Online Sermons of the Rev. Canon Ann M. Smith

Speaking With Authority

2012-01-28T09:45:00.004-05:00

The Fourth Sunday after Epiphany
Year B

Based on the readings from Deuteronomy 18:15-20 and Mark 1:21-28

During the season of Epiphany, we have been exploring the many ways and times that God calls us, not only on a personal level, but also as a Church, and as a nation. The readings this week continue the theme of call, as they explore how God speaks to us through other people. They explore the whole concept of authority. How do we determine God’s truth? How do we determine who is speaking with integrity?

I came to a new realization about what authority meant a number of years ago when I participated in a healing circle. I felt a sense of embarrassment and complicity in being white in this otherwise aboriginal group. We were encouraged to pick up a stone that was placed in the centre of the circle and say what was in our hearts. I spoke of feeling honoured by being part of the circle. I expressed my own hurt at the residential schools and my sense of complicity in having taught in the system. The Elder who was leading the group let out a whoop as I finished. It took me by surprise. I was not certain what it meant. Another woman picked up the stone and explained that they were accepting me as a member of the clan, that I was a sister. They heard my words as being authentic. It was a true revelation to me as all in the group embraced me because an Elder, one who had authority, spoke on my behalf.

The question of authority was critical for the people of Israel. Prophets and priests claimed to speak and act in accordance with God’s will, and yet conflicts and disputes arose. They grappled with how God speaks to us. They settled on certain criteria. The prophet needed to be an Israelite. He was called to speak as God commanded, and then what was spoken had to be realized in the events that ensued. It needed to be confirmed.

We sometimes have the wrong idea about prophecy. We think that it is about foretelling the future. But it is far from that. The word prophecy comes from the Greek, prophetes, "one who speaks before others” or from the Hebrew “one called to speak aloud". The prophets were called to speak what had been discerned through the closeness of their walk with God. A prophet was one who listened to God. Their call was to speak with authority as the Elder in the healing circle spoke. The root of the word, authority, is literally “to make to grow”. What they said should help people grow in the way in which God intended.

There are prophets in our age. Sometimes in fact, they are much-maligned. Take for example, meteorologists who work at predicting the weather. A friend of mine retired now as a meteorologist, once told me an interesting anecdote about predicting the weather. It seems that when Pope Paul was planning his trip to Los Angeles he wanted to know what the weather would be like during his visit. A weather consultant was hired by the Vatican to make some recommendations. He looked at the last thirty years of weather in Los Angeles at the same time of year as the Pope's visit was to take place. He came back and said to the Pope, "At the time of your visit it is likely to be very hot and dry." The Pope made his plans accordingly and the trip went off as expected.

That is the basis of long term weather predictions. That is why there is no true certainty about the weather.

Scripture too looks at past history. So often the story begins with God recounting to a prophet all that God has accomplished for God's people in the past. "Wasn't I with you at the Red Sea? Did I not provide you with manna in the desert? Now go and tell my people...” and the prophet is able to speak with authority. "Thus says the Lord:” The prophet is able to challenge the people on a moral level. He is able to speak what needs to be heard in the light of past experience.

Jesus was known as one who could speak with authority. Hearing him speak in the temple gave people an understanding of their potential, of the possibilities. He did not talk down to them. He treated them as friends and equals. He taught them to be realistic about themselves. He helped them to know that God had called them to greater things than they could imagine. His authority made them do what all authority should do. It helped them grow.

Sometimes the person who bears authority is misunderstood. It was so with Jesus. A demented heckler shrieked at Jesus at the top of his voice. Jesus confronted the situation. He healed the person.

This scene is not as foreign to us as it seems. It is played out in our modern world. Jesus was saying something new. New things are often exciting, but at the same time they can seem threatening. Those who bear the prophetic word, those who advocate change, are often rejected or even attacked for their beliefs. The attack on such people can become quite personal. A spirit of open communication is essential in living out our life as a church community.

Bishop Poole loves to point out that there is a statistic that by the year 2160 if we keep on the same track the Anglican Church that we love will no longer exist. We will have died out. It should come as no surprise that we are a church in decline. Many congregations are made up of the elderly. Sunday is no longer a day of rest set aside for attending church. Many people work on Sunday as they do on any other day. Our competition is not other denominations, but rather the arena and the shopping mall. We live in a world where many are unchurched.

My last parish was in Mississauga, which of course is multicultural. I was asked by a community group that works in the school system to give a presentation at St. Francis to a group of children in grade 5 and 6 about the Christian faith. They were making visits to various religious institutions. They came from many backgrounds. Not one child had ever been inside a church before. They were intrigued, even hungry. I took them on a tour of the church and asked them to observe and figure out what was important to us in our faith. Of course, they remarked on the plain wooden cross which dominates the sanctuary of the church. They noticed the font and recognized that it was a bowl for washing and wondered why it was in the church. They loved the pictures in the stained glass windows. And so we were able to piece together the important elements of the Christian faith in a way that these unchurched children could understand. It led me to reflect once again how vast our Christian mission is.

Perhaps the most challenging and transforming call of Christ when it comes to authority is that we must learn to give up our own freedom and power for the sake of others. We church folk tend to hold on to power. We do not want things to change. After all, we are the ones who have supported the church with our wealth. Don’t we deserve to have the same liturgies that have sustained us through our own lives? We want the same hymns. We want to hear the same comfortable words. If they come to our church we want children to be seen but not heard. We want newcomers, but we want them to be just like us, upholding the traditions that we hold dear.

If we are truly following Christ and are committed to the Mission of the Church, if we wish to bear the prophetic word, if we wish to answer God’s call to bring healing, then we must be follow the authority of our Saviour who was the servant of all.

"God Don't Sponsor No Flops"

2012-01-20T14:55:00.001-05:00

The Third Sunday after Epiphany
Year B

Readings: Jonah 3:1-5, 10; Psalm 62:6-14; 1 Corinthians 7:29-31; Mark 1:14-20

God calls us, not once, but again and again throughout our lives. God calls us to renew our baptismal covenant, to renew our life in Christ. Sometimes we are called to choose new priorities. Sometimes we are called to leave behind the things that have been keeping us from God, things that impede our discipleship. Sometimes we are called to make changes in our lives. Often a call comes to us when we are facing crises in our lives, for those are times when change is not only necessary, but even welcome. Whatever our call, it is a call to action. What is happening right now for us as individuals, as a church, as a nation? More importantly, how will we respond? Those are good questions for us to ponder during this season of Epiphany.

I was visiting my sister many years ago. I was sitting in the living room with my then teenaged niece. We were chatting, getting caught up. My sister called her to come and help with setting the table. She ignored her mother completely and kept on talking to me as if she had heard nothing. My sister called again a little louder. Once again it was as if Deirdre had not heard a word that was said. I asked her, “Why aren’t you answering your mother?” Her reply: “She isn’t mad enough yet?” Of course, my sister did eventually really lose her cool. Then Deirdre got up and did as her mother demanded.

When God calls on us to act, it can present a very similar reaction in us. We can find many excuses. “I didn’t hear you!” “I don’t understand what you want!” “It’s too hard!” “Find someone else!” “I don’t have enough knowledge.” “You couldn’t possibly mean me!” The real reason is far more likely to be “I don’t want to” or “I’m afraid.

Consider the story of Jonah. God called Jonah to action. No ifs, ands, or buts! He was to go to the people of Nineveh to give them a message from God. God wanted him to tell them that he was going to overthrow them because of the evil things they had done. Jonah was their last chance. And you know! He refused. Like my niece with her mother he heard what God was saying to him. He ignored the message. God went to great lengths to move him to action. He even had him swallowed by a great fish and thrown up on the shores of Nineveh. Still Jonah was reluctant to act. Finally God got through to him. He began his walk through the streets of Nineveh. “Forty days more and Nineveh shall be overthrown!” he cried out to the people. And, much to Jonah’s astonishment, perhaps even disdain, they heard and believed. They changed their ways. They proclaimed a fast and everyone put on sackcloth. The whole of Nineveh’s society got involved in changing their ways. Nineveh was spared.

The Gospel is about the call of the disciples. Jesus comes to Galilee preaching a message very much like his predecessor, John. A call to repentance. Yet it is a call to far more than simply asking for and receiving forgiveness. It is a call to renewed faith and radical change.

You know the story well. As Jesus is walking by the Sea of Galilee he sees brothers, Simon and Andrew fishing. He calls out to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people."

Surely that is one of the memorable lines in Scripture, even with the change in wording. It cannot help but speak to each of us. It draws us into the story with its very simplicity. At the same time, it raises some questions. How could it possibly be that easy? How could a few simple words spoken by Jesus be heard with such clarity by these simple folk? Did it really happen that way? How could anyone respond so completely and so quickly to God's call? Would I have responded as Andrew and Simon did? I suspect I’d be more like Jonah in my response.

William Clare Menninger, a distinguished American psychiatrist, toured the states for years as a lecturer and consultant. Frequently people asked him for the secret of a good and happy life. He always said: "Find a mission in life and take it seriously."

It is good advice. Even more important for us as Christians, it is our call. It is our call to find the mission to which God has called us, and to take it seriously. Jesus offers us that mission. He proclaims, "The kingdom of God has come near." The kingdom with all its spiritual blessings and possibilities is here, now, in this place, at this very time. Turn back to God. Repent. Accept the Good news. Have faith. Act on it.

No matter what our worldly vocation, we are all invited to share in the redemptive dream of God for this world of ours. We are called to use our own special gifts and talents to ensure the success of the kingdom. We are called to follow, to love, to forgive, to witness, to serve, and above all to hope, to hope that our offering will make a difference.

I suspect that is the most difficult thing to overcome. We look at the task and think, 'it is just too much. There is too much to do. I can never make a difference.' When we think that way it is very easy to convince ourselves that there is no point. But if we are to live up to the hope of our calling, we must trust that we are part of the solution. We must trust that God's plan will ultimately prevail. We must trust that God will enable us to accomplish what we are called to do.

There is a wonderful story about Ethel Waters, the black actress and singer. She was performing in New York when Billy Graham was holding a crusade back in the fifties. She went one evening and slipped into the choir. Reporters found out and questioned her, "Aren't you afraid to identify yourself with something like this? You're famous. You have a reputation. This might fail." She replied, "God don't sponsor no flops."

God calls us, not once, but again and again throughout our lives, to renewed life in Christ, to choose new priorities, to leave behind the things that keep us from truly serving God. Like Jonah, God may call to us through the crises of our lives. Like the disciples, God may call us from the ordinary routines of our lives. The question remains, how will you respond to God's call? Whatever your call may be, remember that "God don't sponsor no flops!"

If You Build It

2012-01-14T09:55:00.001-05:00

The Second Sunday after Epiphany
Proper 2, Year B

Readings: 1 Samuel 3:1-10, (11-20); Psalm 139:1-6, 13-18; 1 Corinthians 6:12-20; John 1:43-51

I understand that Canadians have the distinction of being the greatest users of the telephone in the world. We are used to calling others and to being called. In this day and age we feel uneasy if we go out the door without our cell phone. But when it comes to being called by God, we are less sure. We wish it were as easy as receiving a phone call. We question. What does it mean to be called? How does it happen? How can we discern God’s call? Are we all called by God? Our readings today explore the ways in which God reaches out to us and helps us to discern our calling.

Samuel received a call from God when he was just a child. He was three years old when his mother took him to live in the temple at Shiloh where he was to serve. Eli, the priest in the temple, was an old man. His two sons were servers in the temple. But their greed had given it a bad name amongst the people. Eli had not spoken out about their bad behaviour. This had cut him off from God’s good graces.
There in the darkness of the night, God called Samuel. Samuel heard the call, but not on his own. He needed Eli, the very one who was out of favour with God, to help him respond. He needed someone’s guidance. He needed help to know that it really was God calling him.

Fast forward! Jesus invites Philip to follow him. He in turn finds his friend Nathanael and invites him. Nathanael’s first response is negative, perhaps even scornful. “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” He retorts. Philip knows better than to argue. But he also knows Jesus. And indeed the answer for him is a resounding “yes!” So he invites Nathanael with the same words that Jesus used in inviting him. “Come and see.” What is he inviting him to come and see? Come and gain insight into the mind and purpose of God. Come and deepen your relationship with God. Come and answer the call to serve.

Fast forward to the present! James Hillman, author of the book, The Soul’s Code: In Search of Character and Calling. His is not particularly a Christian way of looking at call, but he comes surprisingly close to describing the process through which God helps us to determine who we are meant to be. He says that even very young children have a sense of call, and that if we really listen to what they are saying, we can help them to discern their life’s work. He recounts the story of the English philosopher, Collingwood, who at eight years of age tried to read Kant’s Theory of Ethics. He could not understand it. He knew with a sense of urgency that he needed to. It became his life’s work. Was he called by God? That is how I would name it.

Martin Luther King was aware even as a young child that God was calling him to fight against racism. Even when his family, worried about his safety, opposing his efforts, he continued to challenge racial discrimination.

How do we personally discern God’s call? Sometimes it happens through other people in our lives, people like Eli who have insights into the way God works. Such people are able to share their insights with us and help us to discern God's call. I had such a mentor when I came to discern my call to ordination. I went to tell my parish priest that I felt called and intended to seek ordination. He leaned back in his chair, gave his characteristic hmmph! "It's to be avoided if at all possible," he said to me. Two hours later after I had given him all the reasons why I couldn't avoid it, he said to me, "Well, that's wonderful, isn't it!" He was a strong advocate as I went through the process.

Sometimes it happens through invitations like the one of Philip to come and see. God calls us as individuals in a personal way to serve, to follow, to share. Where have you heard God’s call? How have you passed on that call to others? How do we become open to God’s presence and call?

Sometimes it happens to a group of people who begin to listen and act on God’s call to them. It rather reminds me of the movie “Field of Dreams”. In it, a man receives the message, “Build it and they will come.” ‘It’ is a playing field. And he builds it, not, of course, without running into difficulties. He converts the field on his farm into a playing field complete with lights and seats for people to watch. ‘They’ are the great players of the past. And they come out of the corn stalks to play great baseball. People come from all over to see the games. But most importantly, the builder is confronted by his own past.

“Build it and they will come” seems to be the way we operate in the church. A few people get together and build a lovely church. They begin to hold services and wait for people to come. And it used to work. Those of us who are ‘Cradle Anglicans’ grew up in a church where that worked. Going to church on a Sunday was a given. Even now given the right location, people may notice the church and come. Like Samuel, they may come in to find out what it is all about. They may even become involved and begin to serve in some way. But, like Samuel, they may not yet know the Lord they are serving.

Or they may be like Nathanael, hanging around the fringes, rather angry and suspicious. Yet there is some sense of longing they cannot seem to fulfill, a sense of need in their lives, or a sense of duty. ‘I come to church for my children, for my family.’ Or a sense of guilt! 'It’s the right thing to do.’

But if the church is really going to be vital, if it is really going to reach out to the community, then just building it and waiting will never work. The people who come will never be enlivened. You see, invitations need to go out. People need to be invited to come and see, to come and meet Jesus, to come and see who we are, to come and see what Christianity has to offer, to come into relationship with the God who walks with us.

It is not enough to assume that people will hear the message. We need to invite them in a personal, eyeball-to-eyeball way. So 'unanglican', isn’t it! We are all ministers of the Gospel. We all have parishes or arenas of service. We are all called. We can invite. People should be able to see something of God’s love and saving power in our lives, in the things we say, in the things we do and primarily in how we live our lives.

And we need “Fresh Expressions” of church. If you have not heard that way of putting it, you will hear lots about it from me. I truly believe that if the Church is to survive, and I am speaking not about this particular congregation but about the Church of God, we need to find new ways of being the church. It means moving out of our comfort zone and finding a way to speak to people in this modern world of ours in a way that they can understand and appreciate. It means finding new ways to draw people in to share in the faith that we take for granted.
What is God’s call to you, the people of St. George’s, Newcastle or St. Saviour’s, Orono? Is God calling you to be a church that meets the needs of its longtime members? Or is God calling you to be a vital and living message of God’s love to this community? Do you want to be an inviting and vital church? If you do, you must lose your complacency. You cannot wait for people to come in. It doesn’t work to simply wait. Just ask yourself a simple question, “How has it been working for us?” Then consider what God is calling you to do about it. How is God calling you to be the church?

You are in a good position to reach out to others. The community is growing. New families are moving here. The church is well located. But you cannot sit within these four walls and wait for people to come. You must be inviting. You must have good programs to offer them when they get here, good music, a fine Sunday School program, activities for people young and old, people on hand to welcome, modern liturgies that speak to people’s souls, programs that reach out not only to those who have an affinity for traditional Anglican worship, but the dechurched and the unchurched.

People are looking for fulfillment and renewed spiritual life. They are looking for God. If God is at the centre of our lives, they will find what they are looking for. This place will be alive in Christ. We will discover what Paul wanted the Corinthians to discover. It is not a matter of just following the laws set out by the community, but of living our lives centred in Christ Jesus. Being different. Being set apart. Living lives of prayer and service to God. And then sharing it with a needy world. Amen.

2012-01-07T09:04:00.001-05:00

The Feast of the Epiphany
Year B
Following the Star

Readings: Isaiah 60:1-6; Psalm 72: 1-7, 10-14; Ephesians 3:1-12; Matthew 2:1-12

The reading of horoscopes is a popular way of predicting the future. Many people read their horoscope as faithfully as they brush their teeth. Now I am not an advocate of horoscopes. Basing life’s decisions on the stars is not the Christian way of dealing with the future. But the custom of reading horoscopes is as old as the people that have been impressed by the thousands and thousands of lights in all kinds of patterns in the sky. The popularity of reading horoscopes is a clear indication that people are searching for meaning in their lives.

In Matthew’s Christmas story, this tradition led some astrologers from the East to the child Jesus. What were they searching for as they scanned the sky, night after night? Were they looking, not just for a new star, but for a new way of living their life? They must have been dissatisfied with their lives to have been searching so diligently. They were hoping against hope for something new. So when they saw a new star they packed their luggage, saddled their camels, and followed without any hesitation. They blazed a trail that has been followed ever since, the trail toward a new vision, a new society. It is a trail that leads in new directions, in new ways of relating to God.
Surely it is our life work as Christians to follow that star, to search for the whereabouts of Christ in every situation, to see where and how and in what area Jesus wishes to be King. It is our vocation to keep asking, “Does Jesus reign in my life?”

These days are the darkest of the year, a time when the stars are most visible to us. One star in particular gives hope to us and to our faltering world. It leads to something significant. The magi followed a particular star through the dark nights and they met Christ. We are called to be the stars that lead others through the darkness of night to Christ who is the light of the world.
What is the star for me? What is the single, over-riding purpose of my life? What is the purpose or dream or hope or challenge in my life? Those are the questions of this season of Epiphany. Does the star bring me into relationship with Christ? Am I willing to follow the star where God is leading? How do I even know where God is taking me? Do I take the time in my busy life to look up at the night sky and see the star? Am I aware enough to see the star stop?

Does anyone notice in the rush and madness of twenty-first century life? Someone is mugged. He screams out to passersby for help. And except for the disinterested glance of the taxi driver, a politician, a salesperson, and a few hundred people, it goes unnoticed, unchallenged. It leads me to ask, “Where are the sages in our world?”
Where does the star lead me? Do I track it through the streets of Newcastle, in my workplace, in the park, to the mall? Do I follow it as it stops over the refugee, the widow, the immigrant, the young woman with the child? Does it take me past the person sitting in the wheelchair, the street person with her shopping bag and cart, the disturbed young man crying out his obscenities, the drunk lying in the gutter? Does it take me past the child shivering in the cold? Does it take me past the needy waiting in line at the Food Bank?

Do I follow the star wherever it leads? Do I follow to Bethlehem where I offer my gifts, my talents? Does it lead me to the place where I can worship God? Do I lead others in the search for Christ? Do I help them on the journey to hope?

To what or to whom do I open my treasures? What gifts do I offer? Are they my finest gifts? Do I give of myself to God and to others? Does that become the consequence of knowing Christ?

The magi were transformed by their visit to the manger. In what way has my life been transformed? If I continue to walk in old paths, in old directions, then what has Christmas accomplished? What difference has the Incarnation made in my life? New life means new paths, new goals, new attitudes, new motivations. What paths are being opened up before me as I enter a new year? Am I a new person? How has my encounter with the Christ child affected my life, my way of living? What is God trying to accomplish in me at this very moment?

The season of Epiphany that we are entering is a time to reflect on the changes that we need to make in our lives. It is a time to make resolutions that we will try to keep throughout the year. Let us think about the gifts we bring to Jesus. What loving actions can we offer to help spread God’s realm? What can we do to help transform our own lives and the lives of those we touch? How can our loving actions be a part of our prayers for them?

This is a time for this parish to reflect on the changes that need to be made in your corporate life. As a parish in transition you face new challenges. You are beginning a search for a new Incumbent. How prepared are you for the changes that will inevitably come about over the course of the next few months? How do you open yourselves to embrace new ways of doing things, new leadership? What growth needs to take place? What are the challenges to growth? How does this parish continue to reach out into the community to draw people into deeper relationship with God? How do you embody Christ in the twenty-first century? Those are the things we need to explore together over the next few months.

We have a huge task ahead of us. But God is there in the midst of us. Jesus comes to us as a little baby, drawing us closer to God. As the magi bring gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, so we bring our gifts of love to God. And in so doing we reach out into a needy world with the light of Christ, a light that transforms all of creation.

Advent Wanderings

2011-12-02T12:12:00.001-05:00

The Second Sunday of Advent
Year B

Readings: Isaiah 40:1-11; Psalm 85:8-13; 2 Peter 3:8-15a, 18; Mark 1:1-8

There is a poem that resonates in me with the message of Advent. It is written by Antonio Machado, a famous Spanish poet, and it became a song during the struggle for independence in Chile.

Wanderer, your footsteps are
The road and nothing more;
Wanderer, there is no road,
The road is made by walking.
By walking one makes the road,
And upon glancing behind
One sees the path
That never will be trod again.
Wanderer, there is no road--
Only wakes upon the sea.

As Christians we follow an unknown path that leads us into new ways of being. There is always tension as we search out new directions. Life is like that. Just when we think that we are at the end of the road, we discover a twist or a turn or a fork that leads us in new directions. Into new beginnings!

Perhaps we think that our children are lost to us, and we discover that they are simply looking for independence, that they are becoming adults. Maybe we think that we have lost a friend, and we find that it has turned from a dependency into a mutual friendship that will carry us through our whole life. Or we think that our parish is in a state of decline, and then we see signs of new, fresh leadership. We see energy and deep spiritual growth. We are in awe of the faith that we see in one another. Or perhaps we look at the world around us. We witness violent terrorist acts. “Surely,” we say, “these are the end times.” And as we are thinking that civilization is about to crumble before our very eyes, we hear about acts of great compassion. And as we worry about the economic climate in our country and throughout the world wondering where it will all end, we open our hearts in generosity so that no one will go without.

And hopefully through all the twists and turns of life we remember that God offers grace, comfort and guidance on the road. We are offered such hope in God’s promises. That is the message of Advent, for it is a season of new beginnings, a season of hope, a season of new found faith, a season of joy.

Isaiah offers the people of Israel a message of hope and comfort. He reminds them of God’s promises. After years of exile, they will return home and God will be with them. God is bigger than all the suffering they have endured. God remains faithful and strong. They are to prepare the way through the wilderness as they might for any monarch. The exiles will return to Jerusalem on a straight and level road. “You can depend on the promises of God,” Isaiah tells them. “God will be there with you, leading, guiding, comforting. The grass withers, the flower fades; but the word of our God will stand forever.” What a message of hope it is! It touches the very depth of human longing and hope.

The early Christians found themselves travelling a new and strange road filled with twists and turns, taking them in directions they hadn’t imagined. They had expected the imminent return of Jesus. When it did not happen, they found their hopes and dreams of a kingdom of shalom shattered. Peter told them that the delay was part of God’s plan. He knows that God wants the whole of creation to be transformed. He challenges them to prepare themselves for the day when Christ will come again. Can we hear in his message that the promise of God is a promise of transformation? We are to be a transformed and transforming people. We are to seek peace by being reconciled to one another and working for economic and political justice. It is through us that the kingdom of God will become a reality.

In the Gospel we hear the call to change direction on the road of life. In this Advent season, John the Baptist is a primary figure. He figures in two weeks of Gospel readings. There is no denying the impact that John the Baptist had on the people of his day. Only slightly older than Jesus, but by far the more provocative character, he drew attention for his bizarre behaviour and his edgy preaching. Even Jesus in being baptized by John acknowledges his charisma. Those who traipsed out into the wilderness did not go out to look at the scenery. They did not go out into the wilderness expecting to find luxury and royalty. They went out seeking a craggy, cranky prophet dressed in animal skins and eating locusts and honey, calling them to repentance. They were looking for someone who would tell them as it is. They were not disappointed. It led them into new ways of being.

That is strongly the message to us at this wilderness time of the year. We are called to repentance, to a new way of living our lives. John offers repentance as the way of entering into the kingdom. He points beyond himself, offering hope through renewal of right relationship with God. It is a call to change focus, to literally turn our lives around, to be converted. It is a call to faith.

How do we answer that call? Do we all really need conversion? The whole subject of conversion always brings to mind my mother, a very faithful Christian throughout her whole life, I might point out. I must have been about ten. We were in downtown Toronto. A man came up to us on the street. “Are you saved?” he asked us. “I’m an Anglican,” my mother quipped back. I suspect that many of us find it 'unanglican' to speak in such terms. But the gospel clearly calls us to allow God to transform our lives. It calls us to be converted.

So the answer to that question is a resounding “yes”. But I do not think for one moment that we all experience conversion in the same way. We think of it as a sudden transformation, a flash of insight, a moment of enlightenment or awakening. And that can be the case. For some people, there is a definite and distinct time in their lives when they experience God's call in a new and life changing way.

I suspect that for most people in church this morning, conversion has been a lifetime process, a lifetime of following God, a lifetime of commitment to the Gospel. For such people, conversion comes as a quiet recognition of how God continues to work in their lives. I know that when I look back on my own life I cannot remember a time when I was not a Christian. For that reason I would find it difficult to pinpoint a time of conversion. There are low times when I wondered if God cared. There are also times when I had mountain top experiences. And there have been times along the way that I can only describe as 'aha' moments when God gave me insights that deepened my experience and strengthened my faith.

What we all need is an authentic faith that we claim as our own. I think for that to happen we must have a sense that something is, not necessarily wrong, but that something is missing from our lives. Then we need a glimpse of who we are meant to be. That happens in many ways and at many times in our lives if we let it. It demands openness, honesty, integrity, and above all, courage. It means working at it. It means spending time in study and prayer, in examining our way of living, in committing as much time and energy to the spiritual dimensions of our lives as we do to the secular.

No matter at what stage of our Christian life we may be, there is possible a deeper encounter with the Christ who waits to enter our experience. So be prepared to search. Be open to the possibilities. The road is, after all, made by walking. Each discovery takes us deeper. It becomes a new beginning, a new birth, as Christ is born in us.

Proper 30, Year A

2011-10-21T10:04:00.000-04:00

I am preaching at St. Mark's in Port Hope this Sunday.

Proactive Love

Readings: Deuteronomy 34:1-12; Psalm 90:1-6, 13-17; 1 Thessalonians 2:1-8; Matthew 22:34-46

They are out to trap Jesus again. This time it is a lawyer who asks, “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” Jesus turns the trap into a teaching opportunity by reminding him of the two great commandments, to love God and to love neighbour.

Jesus makes it clear that 'loving action' is the ultimate authority. Love is beyond the claims of the law. There is ultimately one law alone, and that is the law to love. It is a law, first and foremost, to love God, to love totally in all that entails, to commit our lives to God. And the reality of our love of God is part and parcel of our love of neighbour. If we love God, that cannot help but result in loving action towards others. It cannot be lived out in our lives without looking at neighbourly love and at the question of social justice. It is a call to examine our responsibilities, not only to our next-door neighbour, but also to our global neighbours. It is no mistake that it is an integral part of our Baptismal covenant. Love of neighbour provides a simple guideline by which we can test our lives.

When asked, "What is the most important commandment?" Jesus did not have to think about it. His immediate response was that it was to love God with all your heart. He went on to add that you must love your neighbour as yourself. He knew it was not a question of how to accomplish such love; the real question is why. The answer is that it is because we are in this creation all together. We as well as our neighbour are the dwelling place of God. We may not feel God's presence all the time, but that does not mean God is not with us. Our neighbour may not feel God's presence, but that does not mean that he or she is not carried by God's love. We belong together, God, you and I. When we are one, we can see God and Christ in everyone. We ourselves are then in the heart of everyone. What we do for another is done to ourselves. When another is hurt, we are hurt. Our heart is not limited to the size of the one in our chest, after all; it is as large as God's heart. The more you love yourself, the more you see who you are, the more Jesus' directive to love neighbour as self, to do the loving thing, will become a blessing for all humanity.

All of this requires having a good theology about love. In his book “The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People” Stephen Covey writes the following about love.

“In the great literature of all progressive societies, love is a verb. Reactive people make it a feeling. They’re driven by feelings. Hollywood has generally scripted us to believe that we are not responsible, that we are a product of our feelings. But the Hollywood script does not describe the reality. If our feelings control our actions, it is because we have abdicated our responsibility and empowered them to do so.”

“Proactive people make love a verb. Love is something you do: the sacrifices you make, the giving of self, like a mother bringing a newborn into the world. If you want to study love, study those who sacrifice for others, even for people who offend or do not love in return. If you are a parent, look at the love you have for the children you sacrificed for. Love is a value that is actualized through loving actions. Proactive people subordinate feelings to values. Love, the feeling, can be recaptured.”

His thoughts about love have so much to say to us about the call to love God and to love neighbour. For the great commandment is a call to proactive love. It is a call to recognize that love is more than Hollywood romanticism. Love needs to reflect the love of God. God loves neighbour, us, as God loves self. It is not we who love God first, but God who loves us, who creates us, who sanctifies us.

The most proactive love, it seems to me, is that which results in forgiveness. Corrie Ten Boom, a Dutch woman who worked in the Resistance and was sent along with her family to the infamous concentration camp at Ravensbrook, went on to tell her story and to bring a spirit of reconciliation to her people. In one of her books she recounts an encounter after the liberation with a particularly cruel guard. She was speaking about forgiveness at a Mission. She was shocked as she recognized the former guard in the congregation. Later he came back to speak to her. It was obvious from the conversation that he did not recognize her. However, he told her that he had been a guard at Ravensbrook. He asked her forgiveness for all that had happened. He held out his hand to her. It took every ounce of courage for her to take his hand, as she remembered the death of her sister Betsie, just a few days before they were freed. But somehow God gave her the courage to forgive, and it truly liberated her. That is real love of neighbour. That is the love that God shows us in giving us Jesus. That is the Gospel in action.

Paul's ministry to the people of Thessalonica is a beautiful example, is it not, of what happens when one continues to lovingly minister even in the face of opposition. Paul's story is no fairy tale. His early ministry often took him to towns where he was stoned for his preaching and driven out. Ultimately he lost his life for the faith. Opposition to Paul in Thessalonica was particularly unpleasant. Yet he discovered something important about himself, about ministry, and about the faith from the experience. Despite the opposition, there developed a real sense of commitment from many people. The communities became places of loving action and the beginning of a strong worldwide community of faith, one for which he was able to truly give thanks.

We can put that Gospel into action every day of our lives. To know Christ is not something I think or intellectualize. Christ is a person to whom I respond by loving. And that love is shown by my loving action in the world. The Gospel calls us to more than words.

"We are determined," Paul says "to share with you not only the Gospel of God, but also our own selves, because you have become very dear to us." It is easy as Christians to be in the business of getting things organized, of busily doing good, and of sharing tasks. To share ourselves is harder. Yet that is the Gospel call. That is the loving thing to do.

The wonderful thing about good ministry is that you know when you have done it. We may see it as a tragedy that Moses did not reach the Promised Land. But Moses did good ministry. Moses is the one who stood before God and said "Not me! Get someone else to do it. I'm no speaker. People won't listen to me. Aaron will do a better job." He is also the one who is remembered as the greatest of the prophets, as more than a prophet – as priest, ruler and judge, as interpreter of the will of God.

Paul may have become discouraged by the lack of response he received in delivering the Gospel message. But he saw the loving actions of the people of Thessalonica. He saw their sense of commitment. He saw them as they shared in the Gospel message even when there were differences of opinion. You see, doing ministry, really doing it, really sharing ourselves, brings us into the very presence of God. It opens up a channel into the kingdom that is totally unmistakable. And it is as simple as remembering that Jesus loves me. Amen.

2nd Sunday of Pentecost, Year A, Proper 13

2011-06-25T08:36:00.000-04:00

Forward in Faith

A word to friends who are following my blog: I am retiring from active ministry, so this is my last weekly sermon. However, I do intend to keep writing and will be making regular posts once I am settled in my new home.

Readings: Genesis 22:1-14; Psalm 13; Romans 6:12-23; Matthew 10:40-42

The day has arrived. The plane really is taking off. This is my last Sunday in the parish before my retirement. As I thought about what to say to this parish that is so much a part of my life, whom I have grown to love and care for more than I can ask or imagine, to whom I owe so much, I wanted to reflect on where it all started. I went back and read two sermons that I have preached previously on these readings. Those sermons are far from what I would preach today.

The first was from 2002 when I had been in the parish for only a couple of years. I preached on the Old Testament lesson about how God tested Abraham and about how difficult it is to put our trust in God. “Take your son Isaac,” God says to Abraham, “and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains that I shall show you.” It is truly a text of terror. Abraham must grapple with the reality of what God is demanding of him. God is asking him to offer his son, the one he and Sarah waited for so long to bring into the world. Abraham shows complete trust in God. He does not know how God will provide, just that God will. At just the right time Abraham’s eyes are opened to see what he was not able to see before. He sees the ram caught in the bushes and understands that God has provided it to be sacrificed instead of his son. As Christians it links us directly to our story as God provides Jesus to die for us, to be our salvation.

That theme of trusting in God’s promises, trusting that God will provide, understanding that God has provided, is what I chose to preach on that Sunday. “Trust is an issue in our congregation”, I said. “How do we trust clergy when we consider the number of priests that have served this congregation already? Why would we trust someone with the pain and suffering that goes on in our lives if we think that person may be gone in a year or two? How do we trust that we have a stable community in which to worship? How do trust that God will help us to overcome the financial woes that seem to be part and parcel of our church life? 'I don't go to church', we say, 'to read in the bulletin every week that the congregation is in debt.' ”

It was an instant reminder of where we were in the first part of my ministry here. I remember how difficult it was to gain the trust of people who were hurting from the past. I remember the comments about not wasting our money by paying into a sinking hole. I remember the hurt, hopelessness and frustration that people felt in dealing with the Church Centre.

By 2005 when I preached on these readings again, things had shifted, at least from my perspective. I preached about hospitality, about our need to be an open and welcoming community of faith. I spoke about my experience in visiting South Africa in 1998. “Africans understand hospitality in a wonderful way”, I shared with you. “When I attended the Women’s Festival in Harare, we were invited to visit another African country and to stay in someone’s home. It was my privilege to be hosted by a pair of South African women who lived in Seshego, a township near Johannesburg. When I first arrived, they introduced me to the family. A shy little girl came up to me and thrust a picture into my hand. Across the top of the picture she had printed dumele. It means “You are welcome here,” she told me. I never experienced anything to the contrary.”

I spoke about our need to become a welcoming place. It is there in the gospel for this morning. “Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me,” Jesus said. And remember that it was risky to welcome the followers of Jesus. The reward could be persecution and even death. Welcoming Jesus meant not only giving hospitality, but also hearing the message that Jesus came to give.

I went on to remind the congregation about what a wonderful experience it is to be welcomed. It is something that everyone who walks into our church should feel. They should feel as if they have come home. It is our most effective evangelistic tool. It is our call to love God and love neighbour. It is most of all the way that we are able to show the grace of God at work in our lives. I realized as I reread that sermon how much change had already taken place in those three years. It was the beginning of this parish’s growth in faith and maturity.

The message I have for you today is still about trust and welcoming but in very different ways, for this is a community that has made great strides in assuming responsibility, in taking a risk about the future, in offering hospitality to the strangers in our midst, in opening the doors wide to welcome people into the family of God, and perhaps most significantly to be good stewards of what God has entrusted to us.

If anything I have preached about lasts into the future, if you remember anything that I have said over the years I hope it will be the two things that are most dear to me. The first is about God’s grace, the second quite related to it, that through God’s grace we see Christ in others. We are loved by God. God graces us, not because we deserve it, but because it is in God’s nature. The grace of God accomplishes great things in our lives. Through the grace of God working in us, great things happen. Jesus said that if we have the faith of a grain of mustard seed we could move mountains of hatred, of indifference, of pride, of suffering. Through the grace of our efforts, through prayer, through the sacraments, through the word read, spoken and preached, we receive sufficient grace to move those mountains, grace sufficient to our needs. We reach out, we touch, we use. Grace increases. Others see it at work in our lives.

The second is that through God’s grace we are able to see Christ in others and allow others to see Christ in us. To quote Paul, “Finally, brothers and sisters, farewell. Put things in order, listen to my appeal, agree with one another, live in peace; and the God of love and peace will be with you. Greet one another with a holy kiss. All the saints greet you. The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.” Remember that with the love of God empowering us we can do great things in spreading God's kingdom. We can confront each day of our lives with the determination to love one another and allow the Spirit of God to bring love and grace to those with whom we come in contact.

I have heard from some people that you don’t know what you will do without me. I have a reasonably good idea of what you will do. You will continue to be the people of God. You will continue to hold one another in prayer. What a powerful praying community this is! You will continue to support the ongoing ministry of the parish and FaithWorks through your generosity. You will continue to do the kinds of ministry that you do, reading, singing in the choir, serving at the altar, supporting our youth, teaching in our Sunday School, visiting the sick and shut in … The list goes on. And in case you think that you are not on that list, at the heartbeat of the congregation are you, the faithful worshippers who are here Sunday by Sunday being the church. The body of Christ includes all it members and needs the gifts and ministry of all its members.

So once again it is about trust. Many things will change during this time of transition. No doubt many things need to change. Trust in the leadership that has been raised up in this place. Trust in their ability to find a new priest with the vision to take you where you need to go. Trust in the Diocese for all they are helping to bring about in the Church Centre. Above all, trust that God has great things in store for this parish.

I see Christ in you. You have been Christ to me. I will cherish my time with you forever.

Trinity, Year A

2011-06-18T08:04:00.000-04:00

God Is …

Readings: Genesis 1-2:4a; Psalm 8; 2 Corinthians 13:11-13; Matthew 28:16-20

"Once upon a time," so the story goes, "there lived six blind men in a village. One day the villagers told them, "Hey, there is an elephant in the village today."

They had no idea what an elephant was. They decided, "Even though we cannot see it, let us go and feel it anyway." All of them went where the elephant was. Each of them touched the elephant.

"An elephant is like a pillar," said the first man as he felt the elephant's huge leg.

"Oh, no!" said the second man, touching the elephant's tail. "It is like a rope."

"You're quite wrong," said the third man as he touched the elephant's trunk. "An elephant is like the trunk of a tree.

"It's like a fan," said the fourth man, touching the elephant's huge ear.

"You're all wrong!" said the fifth man as he touched the belly of elephant. "It is definitely like a huge wall."

"It's like a solid pipe," said the sixth man touching the tusk of the elephant. And so each had their own idea based on their unique experience.

So is our understanding of God. "God is our father," we say. "God provides us with everything we need."

"God is our mother, birthing us, nurturing and caring for us," says another.

"God is our brother, our friend, our companion."

"God is the wind; we feel God without ever seeing what God is like."

"God is a flower, a butterfly, a rainbow, a mountain, a thunderstorm …"

There is so much to know about God that we can never comprehend it all. But the great thing about being human is that we keep on exploring and discovering new and wonderful things about this great God of ours. People through the ages have written about their experience of God. In Christian terms we have come to acknowledge that experience as the Trinity.

That is the essence of this Sunday as we celebrate the attributes of our wonderful and mysterious God. Through the ages we have tried to define God. It has never been an easy concept. I have had people point out to me many times, "You've never seen God, so how can you presume to try to prove the existence of God to me." And no! I can't prove it to anyone. But through faith I can prove it to myself because I have come to an understanding of God, not only through the doctrines of the Church and through the study of Scripture, but more importantly through my own very personal experience of who God is and how God has worked in my life.

Barbara Brown, one of the outstanding preachers of our time, says "to know God, we need to learn to see the world as God sees us, and to live as if God's reality were the only one that mattered." She goes on to explain that to accomplish that we would need to use our imaginations. And of course, imagination is a dirty word. It is about make believe. That would make our search for God an emotional exercise rather than the intellectual one we seem to think it should be.

On the other hand it poses an even greater problem if we try to explain God using the doctrine of the Trinity because it is a purely intellectual way of expressing something that needs to be experienced to be understood. We make analogies to help ourselves understand how God can be three persons and yet one God. We get ourselves tied up in semantics and Greek philosophy. And quite frankly, we get nowhere.

Yet when you come down to it, isn't the doctrine of the Trinity simply way of explaining our relationship to God? 'Father, Son and Holy Spirit' are all relational terms. They are not about how we think. They are about how we relate to God. When we speak of God in human terms, we are relating God to ways in which we experience and respond. And isn't that what people are really hungry for? We want to be in relationship to God.

Today's readings open us up to exploring our relationship with God by reminding us of the connection between all living things. The Genesis passage expresses the story of our relationship to God as creator of the world. It is a very human God who whimsically yet methodically goes about the task of creating and then takes a break from it all. God has a special on-going relationship with creation. God does not create and then abandon. God creates for a purpose, for God's purpose.

In the letter of Paul to the Corinthians we meet a group of people who are the product of Pentecost. They have experienced the power of God indwelling their lives. The Spirit that energizes creation is at work in them.

And in the Gospel we meet the disciples, a fractured community following the resurrection, but a redeemed community, an empowered community being sent out into the world to relate to it as God relates to us.

The doctrine of the Trinity is not some great truth that God has put in stone for us to believe. It is a metaphor developed over the centuries to express how we experience God’s presence. The concept of the Trinity should open us up to explore our experience of God in our lives. It calls on us to turn to God to satisfy our hunger. In the midst of anguish and trouble we experience the God who walks with us. In the beauty of nature, we experience the One who created us with wisdom and care. Through the study of science we understand God’s awesome power. When life gets too serious, we experience God joyfully dancing at the thought of creating the human race. When we are filled with guilt, regrets and anxieties, we experience a God who justifies us, not in a legal sense in black and white according to some rule book, not because we are worthy, but because we have claimed it and are significant to God.

I have bumped into God many times over the past few weeks. I bumped into God in a conversation with some dear friends over a leisurely lunch; during a walk with my dogs around Lake Aquitaine; watching a heron take off from the reeds along the shore; over a cup of coffee in the garden early one morning as I watched the sun come up; when memories of good times spent here at St. Francis came flooding back as I read over some of the pages in the Scrapbook you have made for me; being with a family as they celebrated the life of their beloved mother, grandmother and great grandmother, seeing the relationship between the generations. Think back over the past week about your own list. Are those not the kind of events that we translate as love? Are they not ways in which we relate to our loving God?

Truthfully, that can only leave us hungering for still more. Can we ever be satisfied of that hunger for truth? What we need to discover during this season is that the hunger is the Spirit itself drawing us into the truth, guiding, teaching, interpreting so that we may come to a deeper understanding of God. We need to allow ourselves to experience God in new and wonderful ways. Our prayer times can be effective ways of allowing God into our lives, but really the way to meet God is to open up every facet of our lives. All of life is sacramental, holy. The way to be in relationship with God is to understand that and live our lives open to God’s grace.

We can have confidence in God, our loving and caring creator. For we know the saving action of Jesus Christ. We know the guidance of the Spirit. We continue on our life long journey of discovery of the God in whose image we are created. That is the great mystery of the Trinity that we celebrate today. We share in the joy of the God who created us, sustains us and redeems us. Amen.

Pentecost, Year A

2011-06-10T22:03:00.000-04:00

God’s Gifted Ones

Readings: Acts 2:1-21; Psalm 104:24-34; 1 Corinthians 12:3b-13; John 20:19-23

Pentecost, the birthday of the church, does not really celebrate the coming of the Holy Spirit. That gift has always been given to God’s people. Rather it celebrates a fresh outpouring of the Spirit set loose in the world. The image in all of the passages of Scripture today is of Spirit-filled people, on fire with passion for the mission of the Church, strong people filled with gentle breath, people able to celebrate the presence of God’s Spirit in the world and in the Church. And so I wish you all a very happy, Spirit-filled birthday!

The Gospel takes us back to that first Sunday evening when the risen Saviour appeared to the disciples. He gave them a gift that day. He left them a commission and a promise. He commissioned them to witness to what they had seen and experienced and to proclaim the Gospel they had heard him preach. He promised that they would be fully equipped to accomplish the task. He promised that they would be everything they were meant to be. He offered them the peace of the justified sinner. Breathing on them he imparted to them the Holy Spirit, giving them the power to bring reconciliation and healing to a needy world.

The Acts of the Apostles recounts the fulfilling of the promise to pour out the Holy Spirit on the disciples. The Christian church was assembled for worship. A loud rushing noise was heard. The sound gave way to tongues of flame that settled on each person. They were inspired by the Holy Spirit to speak in other languages. No explanation was possible for the newfound ability. The onlookers, bewildered by the happenings, attributed it to drunkenness. It is for us to know and understand. They are people filled with God's gentle breath. They are people who know that God’s power is within them. They are people able to celebrate the presence of God's Spirit in the world and in the church.

Pentecost is about the gift of God’s grace poured in its rich abundance into our lives. Paul speaks to the people of Corinth about how God’s gifts are being manifested in their lives. He reminds them that their gifts are not for their own benefit, but for the common good. Paul knew that the community would thrive if everyone’s gifts were being affirmed and used. Only then, he knew, would there be the kind of energy in the Christian community that would carry them, that would help them to look beyond themselves to those who needed their help. It would be through their loving service to others that the Spirit would bring renewal and fresh insights. It would be through their openness to God’s grace that ministry would flourish. And so it was! We hear over and over again in the Acts of the Apostles that the Church grew with new converts. That is strongly the message that we need to take away with us today as we celebrate new beginnings, new beginnings for four people who will receive the sacrament of baptism, new beginnings for me as I move into a new phase in my life, new beginnings for you as you take on the process of finding a new priest, new beginnings too as you assume responsibility for the Lutheran space.

It is especially fitting that baptism should be part of our celebration today. The message of Pentecost is the message of baptism. Baptism is the fulfillment in our lives of God’s promise to be with us, to indwell us. That same Spirit given to the followers of Jesus is unloosed in our lives. God’s free gift of grace is given to each of us in baptism. The question is what will we do with it? What is our baptismal gift? What is it about those being baptized today that is essentially and truly their gift now to the church that will always be their gift to the church? There are three children who have been brought by their parents and sponsors for baptism. It is your job as sponsors and as a parish to help these children in the ongoing process of discerning what gifts God has given to them. John, being an adult, begins a discernment process of his own. As this parish embraces him in his new life in Christ, hopefully he will discern what gifts God has given him, and what God is calling him to do. As you renew your baptismal covenant hopefully it will remind you that it is your responsibility to use the gifts that God has given you for the common good.

I have been conscious this past month of the many things I am doing here for the last time. I look back on events that give me a great deal of satisfaction and joy.
• Confirmation classes filled with young people questioning, exploring.
• Baptismal preparation lead by the laity of our parish
• Youth Group meetings that have often worn me out but have at the same time miraculously kept me feeling young.
• Amazing Vacation Bible Schools and Children’s festivals.
• Easter Vigils
• St. Francis Day with its Blessing of the Animals
• Contemporary music leaving us all dancing
• Lenten Studies
• Holy Week services
• The fellowship as we come together at Christmas to wrap gifts and fill hampers to overflowing with food
• The beauty of this holy place as we gather Sunday by Sunday
• The diversity of our congregation
• Services in Seniors residences

I look back on some sad, even tragic events in our lives as well. I remember some special people who were part of our community who died and whose lives we have celebrated. And I know as I ponder all of these things that the people of the parish of St. Francis of Assisi will always have a special place in my heart.

And I look back on you your gifts and talents. Especially I look back at the gift that you have been to me. You have allowed me into your lives when you were at your most vulnerable. I have laughed with you. I have cried with you. I have struggled with you over your faith issues. I can never express what it has meant week after week to see your faces intent on the message I am attempting to convey through my preaching. I have seen Christ in you as you came forward to receive the sacraments. You have no idea what it has meant to me to receive a phone call asking for prayer. It reminds me of the strength of the prayer ministry we share.

I have watched this parish grow in faith. I have seen you take up the challenge of sharing ministry in a less than ideal situation. I have seen your ability to accept new ways of doing things. I have seen acts of generosity as you committed yourselves to the ongoing work, not only of the parish but of meeting the needs of the greater community. I am proud of what you have accomplished as a parish. You have fed me. You have nurtured me.

And so we come to this day, not my very last day in the parish, but the day we have chosen to say a formal farewell. It is rather like waiting for a plane to take off, isn’t it? You rather dread the moment that the person heads into the departure lounge. You stand at the gate until they are out of sight. You may even go up to the observation deck to watch as the plane taxis out to the runway and then finally lifts off the ground. But eventually the time comes for you to get on with your life here and look to tomorrow with hope, expectation and love.
That is what I expect this parish will do. You will embrace the future of this place so that it will be everything that God wants it to be. You will use your gifts and talents for the common good. You will continue to embody the Holy Spirit. You will live out your Baptismal Covenant. You will live out our mission statement.

“Together we are walking with and celebrating the spirit of St. Francis on a journey of worship, service, fellowship and peace”

The Seventh Sunday of Easter, Year A

2011-06-03T23:06:00.000-04:00

Who’s Holding the Bag!

Readings: Acts 1:6-14; Psalm 68:1-10, 32-35; 1 Peter 4:12-14, 5:6-11; John 17:1-11

The period between the Feast of the Ascension and Pentecost is a time of transition for the disciples. The resurrection appearances of Jesus to the disciples strengthened them and gave them hope. It was a time of great joy for the disciples as they were reunited with the risen Saviour. The Ascension, as he withdraws from his disciples, as he is carried from them into Heaven, marks the end of Jesus' earthly life. Before he makes his final departure from them, he commissions them to continue his earthly work. As witnesses of the resurrection, it is their task to continue his proclamation. It is their responsibility to carry on the work that Jesus began. Jesus lives! Jesus reigns! Jesus has left his disciples holding the bag!

But Jesus made a promise to them. They are not alone. They are equipped. They have everything they need to carry out their mission. The Holy Spirit will be their ongoing comfort and strength. While Jesus tells them to await the coming of the Spirit it is, nevertheless, that same Spirit that moved on the waters at creation. It is the same Spirit that led the people of Israel through the desert. It is that same Spirit that hovered over Jesus at his baptism in the Jordan River. That same Spirit, Jesus is telling them, will come with new and renewed energy to assist them in the work that God has called them to do.

And so they are to wait, to spend time in preparing themselves for what is to come. They are between loss and promise, a difficult time for any of us to face. And so they turned to God in prayer. They looked back on what Jesus had told them and savoured his message. They remembered his promises and looked forward to their fulfillment. They focused on what was vitally important.

And they lived in hope. There is such an air of expectancy about the disciples during this period of waiting. There is a sense of urgency about their vision for the future. “What next?” they are asking themselves. They are about to embark on a new path without the guidance of their beloved leader. The path ahead is unclear. It is a time of testing and self-discovery. They were fruitful times. We hear over and over in the Acts of the Apostles how the Church grew with new converts. We know that over two thousand years later we still bear the fruit of their faithful witness.

As the Easter season comes to an end we deal with the consequences of the resurrection in our own lives. We enter a period of transition. We are thrust out into our world with that same great commission. “You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth,” Jesus is saying to us as he said to the disciples. We are sent out into the world to communicate the Good News of the Gospel. It is up to us to continue the work that Jesus began, that the disciples continued, and that countless Christians throughout the ages have carried on. We are not called to be observers; we are called to embody and communicate new realities because of what we have seen, because of what we believe.

This is a period of transition in the Church of God. Many see this as the Post Christian era, a time when personal world views, ideologies and religious movements are no longer rooted in the traditions of Christianity. Many people are unchurched. It is more common to hear the name of Jesus used in profanity than in worship. Jesus’ earthly mission may be over, but the work of the kingdom has barely begun. It is to be carried out through us, Jesus’ 21st century disciples. How do we reach out to the unchurched in ways that will open them up to the richness of God’s grace? How do we find creative, new expressions of our faith that will draw people in to the Christian community?

This parish is facing a time of transition. In many ways, we are living between promise and fulfillment. We are awaiting the outcome of the Diocese purchasing the Lutheran space. There are constant hurdles to overcome. It sometimes seems as if it will never end. As well, you will be between clergy as I take leave of you in a few weeks. Hopefully it will be a time not only of testing, but also of self-discovery for you as the people of God.

The question is, what do we do in the meantime? How do we live with our sense of loss as we await the fulfillment of the promises? The disciples are a wonderful role model for that. We can begin by following their example. We need to be people of prayer. The disciples came together as a community and they prayed. They prayed for one another. They prayed for the needs that they saw in the world around them. They looked back on what Jesus had told them and they held onto the message. They remembered his promises and looked forward to the time they would be fulfilled. They focused on what was really important. And they lived as if … They lived with hope, trusting in God’s promises.

And of course we know that we need to gather the community together and pray. We need to pray for God’s guidance about our future. We need to pray that God will be present with us. We need to pray that God will be at work in our lives. But particularly when we face a time of transition, a time of loss or change, we need to pray. We need to pray even when the only prayer we can pray is “God, I can’t pray!” That kind of prayer will help us to look back and remember the times that God has been with us. It will help us to remember the promise that God made to be with us always. It will help us to learn from our sense of loss. What does it mean in my life? What changes need to be made? Does it mean that I need to spend more time with my family? Does it mean that I should look for ways to become a better person? Does it help me to figure out what to do with this time of change? Does it help me to cope with the change?

We still encounter the risen Lord. But it is a mystery which eludes our grasp. It is rather like trying to view a beautiful piece of art through the slats of a venetian blind. We can see the image, but not clearly enough to understand its beauty and perfection. We get flashes of insight. But to fully appreciate it we would have to view it under the proper conditions, our view unobstructed, with proper lighting. When the risen Lord encounters us we do, at least for a moment, fully comprehend. Yet it is almost impossible to hold on to the image.

If we have eyes to see the mystery of the resurrection we will glimpse it all around us. We will catch sight of it in nature – the smell of the rain, the wildness of a thunderstorm, the beauty of a flower unfolding, the sight of a starry sky. We dream it, the kind of dream you wake out of without quite remembering what it was about. We meet it through liturgy, through music, through literature, but most of all we it in other people.

Jesus has left, but we are not alone. His promise to the disciples holds true for us. May we live by the Spirit.

The Sixth Sunday of Easter, Year A

2011-05-28T08:37:00.000-04:00

An Altar on Every Street Corner

Readings: Acts 17:22-31; Psalm 66:8-20; 1 Peter 3:13-22; John 14:15-21

Paul is in Athens preaching in the Areopagus. It is a quiet place where speakers can present their ideas to those who gather to listen. There, people are able to speak freely without interruption. Freedom to speak out about your beliefs and concerns is typical of this centre of Greek culture. Athens is a cosmopolitan city where people are cultured, eager to learn, well read. Here lies the difficulty for Paul, for this is a city overloaded with statues and altars, an altar on every street corner. They worship many gods. And when they are unsure which of their gods has helped them, they set up yet another altar to an unknown god.

Paul sees and judges the city as an apostle of Jesus Christ. Before he even gets to Athens he is feeling down about his mission. He has had little success in establishing a faith community in the Greek world. He views their lifestyle, their secularism, their materialism, their indifference to his message with disdain. He is indignant to find so many pagan symbols in this cultured and beautiful city. He is not enthused by its historical and art treasures. And so he finds himself presenting his views to anyone who will listen.

"I found an altar to an unknown god,” Paul begins. He understands their hunger for spiritual knowledge; he can see it in their responses. He proclaims the Spirit to the Athenians who somehow knew that such a Spirit existed but were unable to name it. He tells them about the God he worships, the Creator of the world, the one true God who does not need temples or sacrifices. He tells them about God who needs only that humanity should seek out and find; God who longs to be known, not fashioned in human or animal form, but known as one who is present; God who longs to be in relationship with humankind.

The altar to the unknown god! What a haunting image that is! What a haunting image it must have been to Paul who served a living God, whose image of God was of one who cared so much that he became one of us, that he died for us.

What Paul said of the Athenians could well be said of our own culture. Statistics show that one in three people in Canada will not attend a single church service this year. We are becoming an unchurched society. Yet many of those same people who never attend church are groping for spiritual fulfillment. Our groping for God, our searching, our longing, is all part of the human condition. People are seeking, but sadly they are not seeking in our churches.

Did it amaze you as it did me how much interest there was last weekend in the possibility that the world was going to come to a sudden and disastrous end? The search for God can take on surprising and frightening elements. Movements predicting the end of the world have surfaced from time to time, but it seemed different somehow as the media listened and took to the airwaves. It is an indicator of how spiritually hungry people are.

Our concern should be why they are not searching for spiritual fulfillment in the Christian Church. At least it should concern us if we, like Paul, know God as our creator, as the one in whom we "live and move and have our being." Can we proclaim that one to the world, because if we cannot how can we expect them not to build "altars to unknown gods"?

And what altars we humans build! Our gods are many, gods of greed, gods of power, gods of lust. We live in a society that needs to know God. It is often difficult to judge whether churchgoers themselves really have a relationship with God. It is difficult to see what difference God makes in their daily lives. It is difficult to recognize any sense of commitment on their part.

Do you know that God is present with you? Do you look with expectation for an answer to your prayers? Do you believe that God makes a difference in your life? If we as the People of God don't really know that God is present to us, how will we ever convince those who are seeking God? People are looking for answers to their spiritual thirst. They are looking for meaning. They are looking for ritual. They are looking for answers to the difficult questions of our age. They are looking for help in making ethical and moral decisions. Who better than Christians to offer them answers?

The first step, of course, is getting to know God in that way ourselves. We need to know and experience God in the same way Paul did. We must know and search out that living God, that God who is present in our lives, not just on Sundays, but every day of our lives.

It is there so clearly in the gospel. Jesus is speaking to the disciples about his need to leave. "God's purpose," he is saying "comes about not through a cold exercise of the will, but by the warm and personal love of the disciple for the teacher." That love is not a one way street. When we reach out to understand and know God, then God reaches out to us. We are not alone. God has sent another Advocate, the Spirit of truth, to be with us. We are not orphans.

That is the profound truth of the Gospel. It is the profound truth of our baptism. It is the most important message to proclaim to a world that searches for unknown gods. Jesus was an advocate for the disciples. He walked with them. He prayed for them. He guided them. He sent the Spirit to continue in that advocacy. The same promise holds true for us. The Spirit of God is within us. In that Spirit we “live and move and have our being.” Love has created a bond that transcends death. It unites us with God. It allows us to encounter the living Christ. We experience him in our hearts.

How do we experience the power of the Spirit at work in our lives? This passage gives us a sense of the bereavement the disciples felt at the loss of their beloved leader. When someone close to you dies, the sense of loss can be overwhelming. And yet we know that the relationship continues. It is different but it continues just the same. We explore our relationship in a different way. We all suffer from the same haunting sense of loss. It is part of the human condition. It causes us to question God’s love. Most of us would admit that it is at times of trouble that we find ourselves turning to God and experiencing God reaching out to us. That makes such sense, because those are the times that we are most open to inviting God to be present to us. Those are the times when we allow God’s Spirit to comfort us.

How do we hold on to that sense of the Spirit at work in us? Certainly there are people who look for signs that the Spirit is present in them. They look for gifts. They seek manifestations. They want to pray in tongues or be slain in the Spirit. They set themselves up as prophets of doom as Camping did last weekend.

The fact is we do not need that kind of sign. We demonstrate the Spirit at work in our lives not by ecstatic manifestations or supernatural gifts but through sacrificial acts of love. We experience God at work in our lives, then we let it happen to others through us. We allow our relationship with God to grow through prayer, through reading of Scriptures and through study of God’s word. Then we risk.

Are we able as a church to allow the Spirit to work within us, to reach out to the community, to draw new people in? Are we able to minister to those already in our midst? Are we able to be relevant at this crucial time in the Church's history? The answer lies in our ability to allow God to be present in our midst. It lies in our ability to experience God "in whom we live and move and have our being."

The 5th Sunday of Easter, Year A

2011-05-20T10:32:00.000-04:00

Living and Chosen Stones

Readings: Acts 7:55-60; Psalm 31:1-8, 15-16; 1 Peter 2:2-10; John 14:1-14

The Scripture passages for today are full of images of rocks. The images range from the poetic to the tragic. In the Acts of the Apostles there is the story of the stoning of Stephen, the first Christian martyr. The psalm uses "rock" as a poetic image of God's protection. God is our "rock and our fortress". God protects us as a rock wall protects people from their enemies. Peter refers to Christ as the cornerstone, chosen and precious. Christ is the foundation on which the Christian faith is built. And we, we are "living and chosen stones."

What does it mean to be living and chosen stones? It certainly conveys to me that I know the immensity of God's grace at work in my life. I know the reality of God's forgiveness. That says to me that now is the time for us to grow into mature, dependable Christians. Like blocks that firm up and reinforce a building we are to build up God's kingdom on earth.

There are many stones that need to be shaped and formed to fit into the great temple of God. They are part of God's plan for creation. We are called to declare the love of God for all God's creatures. We do it in our daily lives and work, in response to the great love of God and God's gift of divine grace. Yet so often, whether through lack of commitment, or through our inability to heed God's word, or through the distractions and troubles of life, we become blocks to God at work in the world. Or we simply miss the real message of the gospel. The passage from John is one that has often been misinterpreted.

My friend Maude loved today's Gospel passage. She was a single woman who had come over to Canada from England during the Second World War. Because of her economic status she lived all of her life in rooming houses. "But when I get to Heaven," she would tell me, "there'll be a mansion waiting for me." One of the earliest modern versions of Scripture changed it to 'rooms'. She was incensed. "I've lived in rooms all my life. I want a mansion." And knowing Maude, that's exactly what she got.

This passage was not meant to portray Jesus as the manager of some heavenly development project. In fact, it is not meant to tell us in any factual way about Heaven. It is not mere platitudes – 'every cloud has a silver lining'. We need to remind ourselves of the context. The disciples are on the brink of disaster. They are about to lose their leader. He will be brutally executed. Their lives will never be the same again. Their dreams of Heaven on earth will be shattered.

Jesus offers them a way forward, a cure for troubled hearts. "Believe in God, believe in me," he says to them. He is offering them real hope, building stones for the faith. Behind it all is the wonderful message of the Gospel, that he will conquer death and darkness. Because he lives, they will live. Jesus goes on to tell them that he is the way, the truth and the life.

That presents us with a deep theological problem, especially in a multi-racial, multi-faith society such as ours. Is Jesus saying that he is the only path to God? For it has been used to mean exactly that. It has been used to exclude any whose faith has led them in other directions. It has been used to prove that Moslems, Jews, Hindus and anyone who professes faith in other than the Christian version of God are lost. Even if people believe in universal salvation they often dismiss other faiths by saying that they simply have not been enlightened, that they will find the true path.

We need to look at it another way. For in another sense, 'believe in God, believe in me' is about each one of us, We do own the way, the truth, the life, but we carry with us the marks of our faith for others to see. When someone is aware of us as friend or colleague, then it is through us that the person views the Christian faith. We become the 'way' by which the Christian faith makes it claims. We become the 'truth' about the Christian life. We become the 'life' through which it is judged.

Mostly it happens in things noted silently, as life and relationship are lived out. We may not discover until much later that this is so. I heard some time ago from a woman about a kindness I did as a teenager that affected her profoundly. It changed her life. And yet, I had no idea. I don't even remember doing it. Yet it had such an impact on her life that she wrote to me forty years later to tell me. It was humbling as I reflected on how God uses us to reach others.

We underestimate the power of our relationship to God and its impact on the lives of those around us. It comes back to Peter's message to us that "we are living and chosen stones." What an amazing thing that is! Jesus is the cornerstone, and each of us is chosen to fit into exactly the place God has for us so that the Church is the place it ought to be.

That calls for us as a church to make a commitment of our lives to Christ. Our Baptismal Covenant reminds us of that call to commitment. We renew it each time we have a baptism. But it can be mere words. How many of us have consciously asked God to be in our hearts and in our lives? Do we take seriously our need to study God's word? We don't seem to have verses of Scripture at our fingertips. Do we take the time to pray for God to work in our lives? Do we set aside time in our day for prayer? Do we learn new ways to come into relationship with God through prayer? What kind of 'living stones' are we if we don't have those kinds of tools to help us convey our faith to others?

We are called as well to an understanding of 'the priesthood of all believers' as a foundation of our life of faith. What does that mean to us? It surely cannot mean that we can simply pay someone to be the priest in our parish and abdicate all responsibility for the work of the church. Jesus may be the cornerstone, but the rest of us need to fit together to build the temple of God. My work over the past ten years has been to encourage you to be everything that God means you to be. You are administrators, teachers, preachers, people of prayer, lay visitors, readers, servers, youth workers. The list goes on. I have worked faithfully in this parish. I have every confidence that as I leave you will continue the good work that you have been doing.

Finally we are called to a commitment that reaches out into society, that calls for change in structures that harm people, that supports the needy in our country and globally, that encourages and invites people into our community of faith. Our parish is intended to be a place of nurture for us. But Sunday by Sunday we are sent out to be the church. We are called to mission, to go out beyond this place with the good news of how the Holy Spirit is working in our lives, of the great love of God and God's gift of divine grace.

We are the living and chosen stones called to give of our time, our talents, and our wealth to reach out to others with the great message of God's love. It is an opportunity to live out our Baptismal Covenant. May we do so with a renewed sense of commitment and fervour for the Gospel! Amen.

The Fourth Sunday of Easter, Year A

2011-05-14T08:53:00.000-04:00

Abundant Life

Readings: Acts 2:42-47; Psalm 23; 1 Peter 2:19-25; John 10:1-10

Each year on the fourth Sunday of Easter we celebrate Jesus, the Good Shepherd, the one who cares for the sheep. We who have no agrarian background strangely find great comfort in that image. Perhaps it is because it appears so often in Scripture that it becomes familiar. To name just a few of the places, the shepherds come to the stable to visit the baby Jesus. Herod quotes that the one to be born is the one who is to be the shepherd of Israel. Jesus is a descendant of David, the Shepherd King. Jesus sacrifices himself as the Lamb of God.

While the Good Shepherd imagery is comforting, those in John’s Gospel are just plain confusing. Jesus does not say that he is the shepherd. He says that he is the gatekeeper. Or is he the gate? Or perhaps he is the one who enters by the gate. While it remains confusing, they are all fine images. They portray Jesus as the one who gives humankind access to God. How badly humanity needs those who can open the way against the burdens of inhumanity! We serve a God who includes all those in society who are without power, the little ones, the lowly, the no account, the expendable, the least, the uncared for. All these are children of God, the very ones that need access to God’s grace and mercy. And so it is fitting that the passage ends with one of the most profound promises in all of Scripture. Jesus says, “I came that they might have life, and have it abundantly.”

That is, after all, what we want out of life isn’t it? Abundance is particularly attractive to our insatiable western culture. We are collectors of things. We spend our lives accumulating possessions. On the whole, even those who consider themselves poor by Canadian standards have their basic needs and many of their wants met. We look to things for fulfillment. Businesses thrive on our desire to live abundantly. Ad companies have discovered that emotion based ads outperform factual ones because they make people feel as if things will be fulfilling to them. They will run faster in a certain brand of shoes. They will make friends if they drink a certain kind of beer. They will be happier if they buy the right car or live in the right neighbourhood.

But when it comes down to it, that is not our experience. The accumulation of things rather than satisfying us tends to make us want more. And so we remain spiritually impoverished. How do we access the kind of abundant life that Jesus is offering? He is not talking about accumulating stuff. He is not telling us that being faithful to God will result in untold wealth being ours. That is the message that some interpreters of Scripture would have us believe. I have heard it espoused by televangelists. “Support my ministry,” they will say. “Send money and it will come back to you a hundred fold.” In telling us that he is coming so that we might have abundant life, Jesus is saying that he is the way to fulfillment, enrichment, meaning, and purpose in life.

How do we tap into that source of abundant life? How do we begin to access the generosity of our God? Jesus knew that his shepherding of people was about accompanying every human being to the place where they could be at home. It is about mutual trust, about opening up our lives so that we can trust in God’s promises. It is about awakening our inmost selves and bringing to light something we have known but deeply hidden, so that we can put it into words and recognize it again. It is about speaking in words that we can understand. It is about walking with us on the road of life and showing us how to live.

Jesus the good shepherd speaks in words we can understand. Lives are opened up. Change takes place. And isn't that kind of shepherding that we as Christians are called to? Loving and leading are the two ministries of the church. First we communicate caring for those to whom we minister. That is balanced with leading which allows change to take place in the lives of those to whom we minister. Ministry challenges. It challenges people to become everything they are intended to be.

The reading from the Acts of the Apostles is a reminder to us of the vitality of the early church, its exuberant mood as it began to live with the knowledge of the resurrected Christ at work in its midst. Today we read about that community as it begins to live out its baptismal covenant in the knowledge of the resurrection. "They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers."

It is a picture of a community working together, living out their faith in their daily lives, and reaching out into their community in love. They were convinced that they were equipped with the Spirit. They tried to show it in their lives, not only by telling others about the faith, but also by expecting that the Spirit would work through them to reach out to others in real and tangible ways. Wonderful things happened in their lives because they believed. "Awe came upon everyone," we read, "because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need." The call to be the Church was the call to assist one another, to help the poor and needy, to expect the Spirit of God to work in and through them.

The church today has the same call to teaching, fellowship, the breaking of bread and prayer. These are surely the marks of a Christian community that is truly alive. We are reminded of them each time we celebrate a Baptism and renew our own commitment to God. What difference do those words make in our daily lives? How can we become a Christian community that is truly alive? Do we recognize our own call to reach out to others in Christian love?

For it is not the specific call of the clergy, but rather the call of every believer. We are all called to shepherd God’s people. As I retire from this place it gives every one of you ample opportunity to respond to that call. If I have done my work as a pastor, then you are already exercising your ministry. Together you can discover how to develop and exercise the gifts of everyone as you learn to share leadership. As you move into what is always an uncertain future, God will give you a vision of your ministry together.

What a church this will be! Like the early Christians it will be a place filled with enthusiasm and spiritual vitality. You will be fulfilling your call to teaching, fellowship and breaking of bread. You will be reaching out to the poor and needy. You will be applying your faith to your everyday life. 'And day by day the Lord will be adding to your number those who are being saved.' You will be the Church.

The Third Sunday of Easter, Year A

2011-05-06T21:54:00.000-04:00

Emmaus, A Road Filled With Questions

Readings: Acts 2:14a, 36-41; Psalm 116:10-17; Peter 1:17-23; Luke 24:13-35

On Easter evening, two of Jesus’ disciples were returning to their village of Emmaus from Jerusalem. The road was long and winding. Their hearts were heavy with sorrow. The death of their beloved leader, Jesus, had plunged them into an impenetrable gloom. Their dreams about him being the long-awaited Messiah had been reduced to rubble. As they trudged along they spoke in hushed whispers about his death. They went over it again and again. They looked at it from every possible angle, and still it made no sense at all to them.

They did not even notice the stranger until he drew near. It was comforting somehow to have the company on this lonely stretch of road. They opened up to him, sharing their grief and uncertainty. It is amazing how easy it is sometimes to open up to someone you have never seen before. They almost felt as if they knew him. There was something about him that seemed so familiar. They spoke about their deep longing for the Messiah, about the hope that had filled them when they first met Jesus, about the events of the past few days, about the shattering of all their illusions.

“And now,” they told the stranger, “he’s been dead for three days. We were convinced that he was the Messiah, but now we know that we were wrong. It’s unthinkable!”

And the stranger opened up the Scriptures to them. “You think that because Jesus died like this he couldn’t possibly be the Messiah. Haven’t you read what the prophets said about the Messiah?”

Their hearts burned within them as they took in all that this man was saying. When they reached their home in Emmaus they invited him in. While he was at the table with them he took bread, blessed and broke it. It was in the breaking of the bread that it all became clear to them. They encountered the risen Christ. They saw with eyes of faith. They believed.

Like the two disciples on the road we may be going down a lonely stretch of road of our own. Even though we are believers, sometimes Jesus is little more than a shadowy figure living in the musty pages of the Bible. It is difficult to find any meaning to what we read. How can we, like the disciples, feel his presence at our side? Can we know Jesus in a personal way?
Haven't we all experienced the journey of the two disciples in some form or another? What does that road represent to you? Perhaps it is a road of disappointment, failure, sorrow, grief, shattered dreams, or lost jobs. Those are the very times that we most need to open our eyes to the risen Lord walking beside us on the road. Yet often we get so wrapped up in our problems that it is not until much later that we are able to understand that God has been with us all along.

It is so easy to lose our perspective when we are going through a difficult time. We are at a loss about what to do, about how to cope. We feel totally alone and inadequate. It is all we can do to simply cope day by day, or even hour by hour. Afterwards, perhaps even a long time afterwards, if we give ourselves the opportunity to reflect, we realize that we were not alone on the journey, that after all Jesus was there with us on the Emmaus road. We may even be grateful for what we learned in the experience. We may realize that because of it we are better people. We may come to understand in some tangible way the message of the resurrection. We may come to see the signs of resurrection in our own lives.

But it is not enough to just see it in our own lives. It was not enough for the two disciples. When they recognized the risen Christ they did not keep it to themselves. They made a choice to return to the city. They recounted what had happened on the road. They shared the good news that Christ was risen.

In turn we may become the companion on the way, the wounded healer. We may find ourselves called upon to deal with people who are hurting. We will find ourselves putting aside our feelings of inadequacy. We will discover within ourselves resources and gifts that we had no idea we possessed. After all, what it takes is something that we can all attain – a listening ear and a generous heart. If we learn to be good listeners we may find people searching us out to share their stories with us. As listeners we can hear their stories not only with our ears, but also with our hearts. Lovingly, patiently, we invite others to share what they need to share. Through sharing our hurts they lose their power. We are able to move forward towards healing, towards resurrection.

How do we share what has happened on our road to Emmaus? We all have a story to tell, but so many of us are silent. Like the disciples we need to make the choice to return to the city. We need to join the community of faith through which we are graced. We come together to be nurtured. We come together to break bread and drink the cup of blessing. We are sent out to spread the good news and to break the bread of life with others. Only if we are willing to do this can Christ be recognized in the Christian community today.

So often we do not share because we are afraid that we will not know what to say. It does not take words. It takes actions. It takes relationships. We have seen the risen Christ. He is at work in our lives. What remains is for us to share that good news with a broken world that so badly needs to come into relationship with a loving God.

The Second Sunday of Easter, Year A

2011-04-30T07:21:00.000-04:00

Believing May We See

Readings: Acts 2:14a &22-32; Psalm; 1 Peter 1:3-9; John 20:19-31

As Easter people we are called to faith in the Resurrection. But let’s face it! For many people it is a real stretch. As children we found it easy to believe in all sorts of things. We believed in Santa Claus, Tinker Bell, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny. But as we grew to adulthood we suspended such foolish ideas. We stopped believing in anything that could not be proven factually. And we became the poorer for it. So how do we reverse those feelings that only what can be proven can be believed? How do we come to faith in the Resurrection? How do we come to know God’s amazing grace?

Last week we read the eye witness accounts of Peter, John and Mary. We saw how each came to faith in his or her own way. John, the Beloved Disciple, saw and believed. He was ready. All it took was a little nudge. But he kept it to himself. Peter saw, but could not figure out just what it was he was witness to. He needed time to reflect. Mary recognized Jesus when he called her by name. She could hardly wait to tell everyone the good news. In each of these faith journeys we can see our own struggle, our own grappling with things we must see and comprehend with eyes of faith, with how we come to faith.

This week there are two further eye witness accounts. The story begins on the evening of the first day of the week. The disciples except for Thomas are gathered together behind locked doors. Confusion reigns. They have heard conflicting stories. No one knows quite what to believe. Then Jesus is there in the midst of them. “Peace be with you!” he says. It is a familiar invitation, his personal way of being present to them, of being in relationship with them. Then he commissions them, consecrating them to continue his mission. He breathes his life-giving Spirit into them.

Imagine their excitement! Like Mary as she heard her name, they can hardly wait to share their good news. When Thomas arrives they pounce on him. “We have seen the Lord!” And so they must have been taken off guard when Thomas responded with anger and vehemence, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”

Yet really, why would they be surprised? How could anyone be expected to blindly believe after all that has happened? They themselves would not have been able to, had they not seen Jesus with their own eyes. A short time ago, he would willingly have died with Jesus. But since that terrible event they had all been lying low. All that they had hoped for had come crashing down. And here his friends were trying to raise his hopes once more. How could he accept what they were saying only to have his hopes dashed? It was too much to ask. He felt betrayed, hurt. He could no longer risk hoping.

Many of us are like Thomas. We can no longer risk believing simply to have our hopes dashed. Perhaps we have been hurt by life. How can we go on hoping when we see the violence and destruction that goes on in our world? What kind of a God allows such things to continue? If there really is a God why doesn’t God simply stop terrible tragedies from happening? What kind of a God allows little children to go hungry? What kind of a God allows suffering? It isn’t that we do not believe in God; we wonder if God cares.

Or perhaps we feel let down by the Church. It has not always been the safe refuge that it should be. The place that should be the healer has often been the abuser. We go to church expecting to find a loving and caring community. Instead we find people bickering and arguing. We find cliques that won’t let us in. We cannot see Christ in those we meet. We come expecting to be affirmed and find no place for our talents. We feel unwelcome. It is no longer the church it used to be. There are new liturgies and new ways of doing things. We cannot cope with the changes that we see.

Or we may have been let down by our profession. It is not difficult to find people who are struggling to face the pressures which come with economic down sizing and high prices. We begin to feel out of control, useless. How can we keep the faith when nothing is going the way it should? Doesn’t being a Christian count for anything? What is the point of having faith if it does not help to solve the problems of everyday life?

The Thomas’s of the world will tell you straight out. “We believe in God. But we find it impossible to believe that God cares.” Yes! We have all met Thomas. We may meet him each time we look in the mirror. Like Thomas we need to see in order to believe. What can bring us to faith?

Aristotle said about faith, “That which is probable and impossible is better to believe than that which is possible and improbable.” It speaks to me about our resurrection faith, about our journey to faith, because somewhere along the line we have to come to terms with what we believe.

It may have something to do with the process that Thomas went through, for his story took a real turn. When he was confronted by the risen Lord, he saw. He no longer needed to be able to touch. In seeing, he could believe. Indeed, he makes one of the most transforming statements in the whole of Scripture. He declares, “My Lord and my God.” He recognizes the risen Saviour. He believes the impossible.

When we think of faith we think often in terms of seeing some miracle that allows us to really believe. “If only God would show me in some real and tangible way, then I would be certain.” We want certainty. We want to be one hundred percent sure. But that is the Thomas’ approach. He needed a miracle. But the real miracle is faith itself.

One night a house caught fire and a young boy was forced to flee to the roof. His father stood on the ground below with outstretched arms, calling to his son, "Jump! I'll catch you." He knew the boy had to jump to save his life. All the boy could see was flame, smoke, and blackness. As you can imagine, he was afraid to leave the roof. His father kept yelling, "Jump! I will catch you."

"Daddy, I can't see you,” the little boy cried out.

His father replied, "But I can see you and that's all that matters."

There are miracles around us if we care to look. We are witnesses to the resurrection. It happens daily in our lives. Like the little boy on the roof we are afraid because we cannot see through our fears and doubts. We cry out, “God, I can’t see you.” God answers, “But I can see you, and that is all that matters.” That is when God is there ready to catch us. The Christian faith enables us to face life or meet death, not because we can see, but with the certainty that we are seen; not that we know all the answers, but that we are known.

It begins when we really believe, when we stop talking about God and start really depending on God’s sustaining grace and love. We may not feel anything very significant. We may not see miracles taking place before our eyes. But we will get to the place where we are in touch with divine power, the same power that raised Jesus from the dead. It is that power that will make a difference in our lives. Believing, may we see!

Easter, Year A

2011-04-23T09:38:00.000-04:00

Love and Death

Readings: Acts 10:34-43; Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24; Colossians 3:1-4; John 20:1-18

I have heard it said that there are two essentials to human life; love and death. The fear behind Easter is surely that death has the power to overcome love. Death can happen so suddenly. It can tear those we love away from us. It can change our lives forever. An earthquake swallows up everything and everyone in its path. The tsunami that follows completes the devastation. A tornado strikes leaving nothing but destruction. An accident wrenches a child from its mother’s arms. Even the gentlest of deaths, the ones we expect as the normal outcome of life, separate us from those we love and depend upon. At such times we see only darkness.

It is in our human nature to fear death. We make it bearable by coining phrases, euphemisms that save us from using the word. We find ways of softening the blow. Pushing up the daisies; joined the choir invisible; kicked the bucket; danced the last dance; and my personal favourite, shuffled off this mortal coil.

Why am I talking about death on this Easter Sunday? Should we not be shouting joyful alleluias and putting all thoughts of death aside? It is because in our anxiety and cynicism we humans see nothing but death. To put our faith in the love of God, to understand that God’s love has overcome death and the grave, to have faith in something as intangible and unbelievable as the resurrection is not a possibility.

It was still dark the following morning when Mary Magdalene made her way to the garden, her heart heavy with the events of the previous days. Not only had she lost her best friend and companion. All the hopes that had built up in the community over the last few years were suddenly shattered. They had been hoping against hope that Jesus was indeed the Messiah, the Christ. But now he was dead, and with him all illusions.

She saw only death as she made her way to Jesus’ burial place. Not the beautiful garden, not the lovely flowers, not the singing birds, nothing could make her see anything but death. She had watched as Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus had laid Jesus' body in the tomb in Joseph's garden in a vault cut out of the rock. She had helped to prepare his body for burial, wrapping it with spices in linen cloths according to Jewish custom. She had seen them roll a heavy rounded stone down the short slope into place. The authorities wanted to ensure that there would be no false claims about Jesus.

Mary was deep in thought as she approached the tomb. "Just a few quiet moments alone," she thought. But that too was quickly shattered when she realized with a jolt that the stone had been removed from the tomb. Who would have done such a thing? What further indignity were the authorities heaping on Jesus? Could he not even rest in peace?

In her grief and sorrow Mary could not see anything but death. And so she ran back as fast as she could to warn the others. She found Peter and John. "They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him," she told them breathlessly. Without a moment's delay they set out for the tomb. They ran as fast as they could, but John, being younger, got there first.

Something – indecision, fear – held him back from entering the tomb. So it was Peter who actually went in first. Not that its impact on him was immediate. He observed the cloths lying there – no body, just the cloths, looking as if the body had simply lifted out of them. Strange!

But when John went in, it was as if a thunderbolt had struck him. He would never forget what he saw – the sheer emptiness of the tomb. Jesus wasn't there. John saw and believed. But, not knowing what to do, the two of them simply left. They left Mary in tears, filled with questions and doubts, still seeing only death.

And there in the garden in the midst of her doubting, she too encountered the risen Lord. Not that she recognized him right away either. At first she thought he must be the gardener. You know what it's like to see something you hope for but don't expect. We do not always see what is real. Have you not experienced seeing someone in the distance, being absolutely certain that it is your friend, only to find when you get closer that it does not even look remotely like the person? Then Jesus spoke to her, just one word, but a word so familiar that she knew every inflection, every nuance. "Mary!" He said. And hearing her name, she recognized the risen Saviour.

"Do not hold on to me," he said to her. "But tell the others. Tell them I have risen and that I will ascend to my Father in Heaven."

So convinced was she that she couldn't wait to tell them, "I have seen the Lord!"

We frequently find ourselves going into places in our lives where we expect to find only death. We need to check out each situation to find the reality in it all. In each dying in our lives, what is the resurrection? In the dying of our planet threatened with extinction, where is the resurrection? In the death of the church as we see fewer and fewer people in our society living the life of faith, where is the resurrection? In the death of a marriage? In the death of a beloved child? In the sickness and suffering of a friend?

It is after all about those two essentials to human life, love and death. In every death there is resurrection. That is the love of God in action in our world. Do I really believe that Christ rose from the dead? What ought to happen in my life if I really believe? How do I demonstrate in my life that Christ is alive and that his saving grace and abundant life are available to every human creature?

Mary was searching for what is real. Everyone in this church this morning is searching for what is real. The gospel presents life in reverse. Yet contradictions bear fruit. Life does not end in death; death ends in life. We make our way from life to death to real life. That is resurrection hope.

Paul says that we must “set our minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.” That is not so that we become no earthly use, but so that we live with a vision of what can be. It is so that we can discover what is real, so that we will experience the risen Christ in our lives. When God’s Spirit moves us to faith in the resurrection of Christ, giving us God’s power to live and act on the basis that it is so, that it really happened, then we will discover, as millions have before us, that Christ is alive in us.

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

Good Friday

2011-04-21T14:01:00.000-04:00

Meditation On the Cross

Readings: Isaiah 52:13-53:12; Psalm 22:1-17; Hebrews 4:14-16, 5:7-9; John 18:1-19:42

There are many moments during Jesus' life which are memorable. But surely none can be as profound as these last days which we commemorate. Here is both the tragedy and glory of his life. Here we see glimpses of our own humanity shining forth. Let us journey together through the final scenes of Christ's earthly life.

The Garden of Gethsemane

First we go with Jesus and the disciples to the garden of Gethsemane. When pilgrims visited the city for a festival like Passover, it was not unusual for a group of people to find a place to spend the night. Jesus and his followers spent many nights under the olive trees in the garden. There, just beyond the city wall, was a quiet place apart, a place of prayer and communion with God and one another.

Judas knew perfectly well where he would find Jesus. It was no secret. His treachery was so simple. Although he brought an armed detachment of soldiers along with him, Jesus offered no resistance. He could have used violence to protect himself. Peter's rash action in taking up a sword is the proof of that. But Jesus chose what is life-giving even in that ultimate moment of distress. He chose to break the cycle of violence. He refused to enter into the violence of the world.

If that is the foolishness of the cross, Lord, then give me the strength to face it. Let me experience the cup of blessing. I am called to drink from the cup in willing obedience to your will whatever it brings. I may be called to stand up for what is right against all odds. I may be called to love the most unlovable of your creation. I may be called to risk everything for the gospel. Whatever it means, I pray that I may be worthy of my calling.

Hymn: Blue 194: Stay With Us

Peter's Denial

Peter's struggle is that of a person for whom there is no perfect answer. "Is it better for me," he must have reasoned, "to lie and remain free so that I can continue the struggle? Or should I risk everything to follow Christ to the cross?"

We see it throughout history. It is the dilemma of the Jesuit priests in the movie, The Mission. One of them chose to face whatever without retaliation. He died, cut down by enemies of the church. The other chose to fight back. He died too. Who was right?
I see people struggling to keep their faith in the midst of crippling sorrow and senseless loss. Peter is practical if nothing else. His world is simple. You have to do this or that, you have to act, you have to establish standards, set things right, even things out. So he tells himself. And even though he wants to be there in Jesus' hour of need, yet he convinces himself that the risk is not worth it.

Peter represents the discipleship of his own day, but he represents also the discipleship in Mississauga, or Toronto, or wherever else there is a Christian community. We can persuade ourselves that our loyalty to Jesus has no limits. We confess our faith in the creed. We proclaim our loyalty as we sing our favourite hymns. But do we proclaim who we are to the world? Do we tell people how much we love Jesus? Or do we worry about being ridiculed? Do we worry about being labelled fanatics? Or do we simply say: "I am a follower of Christ," whatever the risk?

Hymn: Blue 197: O Dearest Lord

Jesus is condemned to death.

Pilate's struggle is not so much an inner struggle, as a struggle with the complex and unbending rules of his society. He knows the law. He is responsible, wise, has all the right arguments, but a frozen heart. He prefers to hand over one whom he knows to be innocent rather than to take on the mob. It is so much easier too if you do not believe that there is such a thing as truth. If you believe nothing, you can do anything. You don't need character or conviction or reflection. It becomes just a part of the power game.

There is something too about the way Jesus faces Pilate at the time of his judgement. His quiet demeanour in the face of death could be taken for weakness on his part. But one only need look back his years of ministry to witness the truth. This is not a weak man simply caving in to authority. He spoke out in the temple. He answered the charges of the Pharisees as they tried to trap him with his own words. He was a friend to outcasts and sinners never worrying about what society might say or think. But here he stands silent before his accusers. Silent for he knows that the way of the cross is the way to glory.

Hymn 202: There is a Green Hill Far Away

At the Foot of the Cross

A group of the faithful gather at the foot of the cross, the holy women, the beloved disciple. It is a time of faith for them. They see beyond the fact of Christ's death. If we consider only the external appearance of Golgotha, the world will go on as it is, and we will become discouraged and follow the way of the world. But if we take in the meaning of the cross we will understand that it creates a place of love and glory. We will know that serving people is more important than having power or control over them. We will know that love cannot die. We will know life, for the cross is the beginning of life if we accept it.

Hymn 201: People Draw Near to God

Jesus is crucified

The crucifixion as John expresses it is not a scene of horror. For Christ on the cross has conquered death and fear. Out of the darkness shines the glory of God. Out of the depths of our despair, we meet our Saviour. The world loved darkness better than light. But from the cross the light shines against the darkness of the sky turned black.

On Good Friday we see the truth of who we are. We see our sinfulness. We know without a doubt that despite all our good intentions we are sinners. In the cross we see the goodness of God. God is a God of love who is determined to forgive us no matter how sinful we are. Such is the grace of God. What Christ has come to do has been accomplished. Our relationship with God is restored.

Hymn 192: Were you there?

Maundy Thursday

2011-04-20T14:10:00.000-04:00

Servanthood

Readings: Exodus 12:1-14; Psalm 116:10-17; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; John 13:1-15

There are moments of intimacy that colour and direct all of our lives. A moment when your mother really spoke to you, heart to heart! A promise that your father kept! A piece of advice given lovingly by a friend! A word of encouragement from a favourite teacher!

That was the kind of moment that Jesus and his disciples experienced that last evening together. He was alone with them in the upper room. He knew what was about to happen. He knew that this was the last day of his earthly life. He decided how to spend it. He invited his closest friends over. They broke bread. They shared a glass of wine. Then the evening became that moment of intimacy. It would colour life for the disciples forever. They would remember it right down to their last reaction. He took a bowl, a jug of water and a towel. He went down on his hands and knees before them and washed their feet. He washed the feet of each of them, one by one, lovingly and thoroughly.

He told them that he did it to set an example for them. He did it to set an example for all of us. He did it so that we would understand what it means to be a servant. He did it so that we would wash one another’s feet.

Servanthood has a bad name in our modern society. We think of serving others as being menial work. We think of it as some kind of enslavement. Parents experience it. They ask their children to perform a simple task, pick up after themselves, help load the dishwasher, take out the garbage. They are greeted with groans and complaints. “Why me? Why do I have to do everything?”

Why is it that we react so negatively about serving one another? We have a sense that it somehow takes away from who we are.

Luke includes an incident in his portrayal of the last supper that we do not hear in tonight’s Gospel. It is a scene of high drama as Jesus prepares to leave his disciples. He prays for them, worrying about what will happen to them following his death. Then a petty argument arises amongst the disciples. It would be funny if it were not such a tragic moment in Jesus’ life. They argue about who is the greatest among them.

Jesus doesn’t roll his eyes at them. He doesn’t shake his head. He doesn’t chastise them. He serves them. He gets down on his hands and knees and washes their feet. He does what the most menial servant in the household does. In being the servant, he gives them an intimate moment to remember when they get discouraged, or lose hope, or get depressed. At such times surely they remember that evening when he washed their feet and said, “I have given you an example.”

He not only said it to them. He said it to us too, privately, in a sacred moment. God got down on his hands and knees in front of us and shared a moment of intimacy with us. He gave us an example of what we should do to each other, washing each other’s feet, breaking bread, sharing with all of humanity, until he is with us in the Kingdom.

We remember it tonight. We wash feet. We break bread. We share the cup of wine. We offer broken hopes and broken dreams, broken relationships and broken hearts. Here in the bread we offer all of our lives, our joys and our sorrows. We acknowledge our brokenness. We seek to be one with Christ who can make us whole. We seek to be joined to broken people. We share in the servanthood of Christ whose service is perfect freedom. Amen.

Palm / Passion Sunday, Year A

2011-04-15T16:25:00.000-04:00

What Will You Do With Jesus?

Readings: Isaiah 50:4-9a; Psalm 31:9-16; Philippians 2:5-11; Matthew 26:14-27:66

Thomas Berry, a Passionist priest, writes, “The most appropriate image of Christ is Mother Earth crucified.” That image is reflected so powerfully in the events of this Sunday which combines both palms and passion. Jesus enters Jerusalem on the back of a donkey. He is hailed by the crowds as a king. He is greeted with shouts of Hosanna! “If they were silenced,” Jesus reflects, “even the very stones in the street would start to shout.”

Then in the Gospel as Jesus draws his last breath and dies, darkness covers the earth. The whole of creation is touched by the selfless act of the Son of God. Yet no wonder, for what was done to Jesus was done to the whole of creation.

And yet how easy it is for us to dismiss it. And so today we are challenged to reflect on what our reaction would have been had we been amongst the crowd that day. There were as many reactions to Jesus’ plight as there were people in the story. Perhaps we see amongst their reactions what we might have done.

Would we have reacted like the disciples? The disciples, his closest friends, those who listened day after day to Jesus’ teachings, could not stay awake with him. They could not watch and pray even for one hour. And when it came time to make a decision to follow him they ran away in fear. They were unable to face the consequences, the danger that knowing Jesus put them into. Even Peter, his words still ringing out loud and clear, “Though all become deserters because of you, I will never desert you.” Under the strain he too runs away. All the good intentions in the world are not enough. When life gets difficult do we blame God and run away?

Judas betrayed him for what he could get. And yet somehow I wonder if he really did want to betray him. There is the possibility that he thought somehow he might be able to save Jesus. Did he want to give Jesus the opportunity to fight back, to become the kind of Messiah that he had been expecting? He does not want to betray him. But he will. He will take what he can get. Is that our approach to the faith? Are we simply in it to get what we can? Is our job or wealth more important to us than those we love? Do we pay more attention to work than to family? Are we faithful to God’s call despite personal sacrifices? What meaning do Christ’s death and resurrection have in our lives?

The crowds jeered at Jesus. The same people who had shouted hosanna just a few short days before turned on him. “Crucify him!” they shouted, the mob mentality taking over. Do our lackadaisical attitudes, our inability to stand up against the crowd, our opting in to the ways of the world, crucify Jesus?

And then there is Pilate. His is surely the most subtle way to react. He is the one person who has the power to release Jesus. He knows that this is an innocent man standing before him. He even has his wife’s dream to corroborate it. “Have nothing to do with that innocent man,” she pleads. “I have suffered a great deal because of a dream about him.” And yet he turns his back on Jesus. He releases a known criminal to the crowds. Not that he takes responsibility for his actions. Instead he calls for a bowl of water. He washes his hands. “I am innocent of this man’s blood.”

We humans are very good at doing that. We wash our hands of it. As if that is going to change anything! Throughout history we have washed our hands of event after event. Our Canadian history with our Aboriginal peoples is a good example. This past Lent several of us have undertaken a course to learn more about the history of our Aboriginal brothers and sisters in order to better understand their current situation. We spent time learning about their history and particularly about the history of the Residential School system. But it was hearing the voices of people tell of the abuse that they underwent and of the impact on their lives that had the greatest impact on us as a group. It was heart wrenching to say the least. We can continue to say that it has nothing to do with us and wash our hands of it as we have for two hundred years. Or we can take responsibility for the past mistakes of both our Church and our government and begin to make amends.

Thank God that God has not simply washed God’s hands of us. God could have looked at humankind and given up. But that is not God’s way. It is not what God did. Instead, God acted. God sent salvation into the world. It was not about making life easy for us. It was not about manipulating us into making a decision to follow God. It was to enable us to reach out to others, to lead people back to God, to act.

It is easy for us as Easter people to say what our reaction to Jesus’ plight would have been. And yet so often our actions show differently. Daily we crucify him.

On Ash Wednesday we began a journey that has led us through wilderness times. The journey ends at the foot of the cross where we await the joyful resurrection to new life. The call of the cross is a call to share in God’s unconditional mercy and goodness. It is a reminder that God’s power is able to transform even the most terrible suffering. It is a reminder that God is with us. In our encounter with the crucified God may we learn that the sharing of suffering is the beginning of its transformation to wholeness and joy. Amen.

The Fifth Sunday of Lent, Year A

2011-04-09T08:00:00.000-04:00

'All-is-Possible!'

Readings: Ezekiel 37:1-14; Psalm 130; Romans 8:6-19; John 11:1-45

We encounter death in many disguises both within society and ourselves. Some people are walking dead. As Benjamin Franklin pointed out, "Some die at twenty-five and aren't buried until they are seventy-five." It is possible to bury parts of ourselves so deeply in our psyche that we are unable to even recall them.

The people of Japan, stoical as they may be about the tragedy facing their nation, are the walking dead. They have faced insurmountable odds, an earthquake, a tsunami, and then the ongoing problems with the nuclear plant. The devastation has been named Japan’s biggest crisis since the Second World War. There are staggering numbers of people dead and unaccounted for. There are thousands of others displaced from their homes. It will be trillions of dollars and who knows how long before life goes on for them.

The people of Israel during the time of exile were walking dead. They had lived through the destruction of their nation and everything that gave them a sense of themselves as a people. They had little to remind them of their former life. Dragged down into despair by years of war and violence, life seemed utterly hopeless. God took Ezekiel into the valley of dry bones.

God said to Ezekiel, "Mortal, can these bones live? Prophecy to the bones!" And he did as God told him to do. Again and again he prophesied to the dry bones. And they came together. God opened that closed and silent grave. God gave it new life as he gave new life to the exiled people of Israel. They changed from those dry bones of death to the blossoming promise of spring rain.

The wonder of God’s power to bring new life is not limited by how dead things are, or by how long they have been dead. God's loving purposes are not thwarted by exile, defeat, destruction or despair. When God's Spirit blows even dry bones can come together.

Witness the power of Jesus to bring life to dry bones. Lazarus was dead, and Jesus raised him from the dead. There was no doubt that he was dead. He had been in the tomb for four days. The mourners had gathered to comfort his sisters. Yet Jesus went to the tomb. He said to the mourners, "Remove the stone."

"But by now it will stink," replied Martha. But they moved it just the same.

Jesus called Lazarus. "Come out!" he said, with a voice loud enough to wake the dead. Lazarus came out of the tomb still bound by the grave clothes. Lazarus was not simply walking dead. He was really dead. Yet Jesus was able to raise him to life.

Lazarus was not the only one who was dead. Others in that group of mourners show symptoms of death too. Martha is suffering a kind of death. In her usual brash manner, she goes out to meet Jesus before he even arrives in the village. Her words of greeting are almost an admonition. "If you had been here my brother would not have died." It's that 'why is this happening to me?' kind of question. We have all asked such questions. But in Martha's case it is quickly followed by an affirmation. "And even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you."

Jesus tells her that he is the resurrection. "Whoever lives and believes in me," Jesus says, "will never die. Do you believe this?"

Martha may not understand the implications of this momentous revelation but she responds in faith. "Yes Lord, I believe that you are the Christ."

Martha responds with vigorous affirmation. But does she understand the nature of her own death? Caught up in the tragedy of the moment, in her grief and despair, she does not hear God's own message that before her stands real life. If only she can reach out in faith, life is within her grasp, a life that overcomes death.

Are we ever like that? Do we become so trapped by the cares of the world, by the daily demands of life, that we lose all sense of spiritual awareness? Like being in a living death? We're dead but we don't know it. Do we go through life being only partly alive?

This Lenten season reminds us of that. It reminds us that Jesus is calling each of us to real life in him. He calls us to live a life of faith that is truly living. What does it mean to truly live such a life? Before we can be called to life we need to understand that we are dead. And we need to understand what that means in us. There are many things that cause us to feel spiritually dead. We all go through times in our lives during which we find it difficult to see any grace. We feel like Ezekiel's dry bones.

Sometimes the call to grace asks us to respond in ways for which we do not feel fitted. "Why me, God?" becomes our cry. Sometimes the things that happen to us overwhelm us, the death of a loved one, a troubled marriage, sickness, unemployment. Sometimes we have had bad experiences and cannot or will not remember. Some have been so abused by others that they have hidden deep inside themselves. Some give way to cravings and addictions. Some people bury themselves in work. Some like Martha just don't get the message. They're not ready. What does it take to come to a sense of awareness?

Over the past week following my announcement that I will be retiring at the end of June I have had many conversations with people who are already grieving my departure. While I am truly glad that you will miss me, the thread of the conversation is usually something along the lines of ‘what will we do when you are gone?’ Who will lead us? How will we cope? It is as if you believe that I am the only one capable of doing anything in this church. We all know that is simply not the truth. If it is I have failed miserably in my ministry here. This church is blessed with capable and spirit filled people. You have gifts and talents that have been demonstrated through your ministries time and time again. Consider the Apple Tree banner at the back of the church! I am in awe as I see the strengths of the people of this parish, as I witness your acts of kindness, your strong sense of community, your resilience, your faith, your hope, your love. The Body of Christ includes all of its members and needs the gifts and ministry of all of its members.

If we went around this church this morning we could find as many stories of transformation as we find people. We would hear stories of how God is working in peoples' lives to bring about change. We would hear how God continues to strengthen peoples' faith. We would hear how people have responded to God’s call. We would hear how many have overcome tragedy and loss. We would hear how people reach out to bring life to others.

Our call as Christians is to renew our own lives, to bring new life into the situations we encounter in our daily lives and work, and ultimately to renew the face of the earth. Dorothee Soelle, a Roman Catholic theologian and writer says that she learned that one of God's names is 'All-is-possible'. She writes: "I know that if I cannot talk to 'All-is-possible', if I do not listen to 'All-is-possible', if I do not believe in 'All-is-possible', then I am dead. Thus my prayer would be to ask 'All-is-possible' to be present."

This is a time in our parish life more than any other to ask ‘All-is-possible’ to be present, to be present in our midst today, to be present in our ongoing ministries, to be present bringing life and renewal into our lives. And so we pray, ‘All-is-possible’ be with us this and every day of our lives bringing life to the dry bones of our existence. Amen

The Fourth Sunday of Lent, Year A

2011-04-01T15:17:00.000-04:00

Now I See

Readings: 1 Samuel 16:1-13; Psalm 23; Ephesians 5:8-14; John 9:1-41

"For once you were darkness, but now in the Lord you are light," Paul says to the Ephesians about the way of salvation. That theme of darkness and light is quite prevalent in Scriptures. Perhaps that is because it speaks to us on a deep level about our human condition. We know that when we are in the dark we grope for some sense of where we are. Who of us as children have not experienced the fear of darkness as we lay huddled in bed wondering what terrible creature lurked under us ready to pounce if we set foot on the floor? Light, even a small amount of light, helps us to get our bearings and recover our sense of direction.

We who are sighted can't really imagine what it is like to be blind. Perhaps you have seen the movie about the life of Helen Keller. She, as you will recall, was not only blind, but also deaf. Until her teacher opened the way for her to understand, to begin to see the light, she was locked inside herself, trapped like a frightened animal, unable to respond to the love of her family.

Sight is one of God's most precious gifts to us. To see the beauty of God’s creation, the oceans, mountains, lakes and trees, fills us with a sense of joy. Seeing our parents, our children, our friends, brings us happiness. To see where we can go, what we can do, and what we can make gives us a sense of freedom. We have sight, but often, as difficult as it is to understand, we simply do not see. We remain in the darkness. We miss the beauty in places and people. We are blind because we do not look. Not looking, being blind to the beauty around us, can make us miss many wonderful things.

Imagine being blind and spending one's entire life in the darkness. Imagine that darkness suddenly being lifted. For that is the scene in today's Gospel. Jesus heals a man who is born blind. The man actually receives much more than physical sight; he receives an insight that allows him to view Jesus, first as a good person, then as a prophet, and finally as the Messiah. "You have seen him, and the one speaking with you is he," Jesus tells him. It is a beautiful moment of faith and insight as the man chooses to come into the light and truly see with eyes of faith.

In so many seemingly ordinary moments, in so many disguises, Jesus stands before us offering us the opportunity of opening our eyes and seeing in a different way, seeing with eyes of faith. We see and seeing, we believe.

Not that it always happens that way! The Pharisees for example may enjoy physical sight but they are blind and choose to remain in ignorance and darkness. It comes out in their attitudes towards Jesus and towards the man born blind. “Who sinned?” they ask Jesus. “Who is to blame? Did he cause this or is it because of something that his parents did?” And when Jesus points out that suffering is not an arbitrary punishment from God they don’t get it. His blindness has to have been caused by some flaw in him or in his parents. They don’t recognize the person standing before them, sight restored. How many times have they passed by him without even a pitying glance as he sat by the gate looking for a handout? Have they ever really looked at him and seen a person with feelings and insights, with hopes and dreams? It is unbelievable to them that a blind beggar, nameless, not worth a second thought, could have been so blessed by God.

Paul writes to the Ephesians reflecting on spiritual blindness. He is quite clear about the responsibility of salvation. When we become enlightened we must live as children of light. Once we are offered the opportunity of seeing, then we must act on what we have witnessed and live as children of light.

Many choose to be blind, to live in darkness. In fact, like the Pharisees they may not even recognize their lack of insight. Don’t we all have blind spots? So the question for each one of us is, what darkness is there in our lives? Do we hide who we are or how we live? Do we live intentionally as Christians? Do we live authentically? What decisions change simply because we are Christians? Does it change the way we live, or the way we speak, the television programs we choose to watch, or how we make our decisions? Does it change our response to those in need or trouble? Do we look them in the eyes and see Christ in them? If it doesn't, are we living in the light? Are we living out our faith? Or are we simply deluding ourselves?

What blindness do we see around us? Have you ever heard as I have an attitude towards suffering that blames the victim? Many attitudes may be seen as a kind of blindness, not that it excuses the behaviour, just explains it. “Who sinned?” We get the mistaken notion that God causes suffering as punishment for the way we live our lives rather than seeing suffering as part of our human condition.

As humans we suffer from terminal blindness. There is simply no other way to explain so many of our attitudes. We are quick to condemn. We label. What a terrible thing that person must have done to be stricken with cancer! Or we blame God. How could God cause illness to strike that family? Why didn’t God stop the tsunami from killing all those people? Why doesn’t God end global warming?

Maybe the answer is, “I was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in me.” If we take that statement to its extreme we could say it of many facets of life. She was born into poverty so that God’s works might be revealed through her. Look at how she has overcome all of the odds. He was born homeless. She was born deaf. He was born a refugee. If there is any truth in it, then how do we begin to see what God is trying to reveal to us? How do we get out of the spiritual blindness that is so much a part of our society?

It truly is about allowing God to open our eyes. That is astonishing! By some miracle God has selected me enter into a personal relationship. By some miracle God has chosen you. God has opened our eyes. There before us stands Jesus. In so many seemingly ordinary moments, in so many disguises, Jesus is there speaking to us. We see, and seeing we believe. It is a beautiful moment of faith and insight that carries us through life.

Along with the seeing and believing comes responsibility. We choose to see. We choose not to remain in our blind state. We choose to hear the truth and to bear that truth into the world. God changes our notions and transforms us. What a miracle of God’s grace that is!

The Christian challenge is to overcome our blindness and live increasingly in the light of Christ. This involves a growing understanding of the truth revealed through Christ and a willingness to reflect it in the practical living of every day. When we are enlightened it becomes our responsibility. Because we know the love of God it is our responsibility to share that love. It is our responsibility to see other people as children of God. It is our responsibility to break down the barriers that cause hatred. It is our responsibility to speak out against injustice. It is our responsibility to see Christ in others. It is our responsibility to do everything we can to usher in God’s kingdom of Shalom.

Jesus loved the blind man enough to do what he could. Everyone else was sitting around wondering why he was blind and blaming him for his inability to see. We can expect God to respond to our problems with action in the same way that we are called to respond to the needs of others. And the wonder of it all is, that when we begin to open our eyes we will find that God’s ways are surprising. Shepherds become kings, blind people see, religious leaders are blind.

When we consider human suffering, it is good to remember that failures are not always just disasters. Jesus changed a disaster into good. A man’s blindness became a blessing. The work of God was displayed in his life. The light of Christ does not magically remove all of our ills and troubles; it enables us to experience them in a new way. Let us prayerfully do what we can to bring hope where there is none, and to bring light where there is darkness.

The Third Sunday of Lent, Year A

2011-03-25T17:13:00.000-04:00

The Well is Deep

Readings: Exodus 17:1-7; Psalm 95; Romans 5:1-11; John 4:5-42

My father used to take so called ‘busman’s holidays’ with our family. It took us on many wonderful adventures, but often there were problems as well. One summer we had entirely too much water as it rained day in and day out. One summer we had too little water. Our family of seven was staying in a rectory on Manitoulin Island that had a cistern big enough to supply two. We longed for a much deeper well. In fact, there were many complaints to my father about the lack of water, particularly by my teen aged sister.

Water was definitely a practical concern for the Israelites as they travelled through they made their journey through the wilderness. They thirsted, and, true to form, they took it out on their leader. “Give us water to drink,” they complained. “Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?” At a time of thirst, of longing, of insecurity and loss they blamed Moses. And God took pity on poor Moses! “Go to the rock at Horeb,” God told him. “Strike the rock, and water will come out of it, so that people may drink.” God graced them with water there in the wilderness, for God’s well is always deep. The water from the rock was a sign that God understood the people's thirst. But you can be certain that God's grace was more than a physical meeting of their needs, for the people of Israel thirsted spiritually as well. They needed to experience God's grace washing and refreshing them in the midst of all the loss and confusion that they were feeling. They needed to know that God was with them, leading them through that desert time, abundantly gracing their lives.

Water was a daily concern for people at the time of Jesus. Jesus himself experienced thirst as he travelled the dusty roads of Israel. One hot day as they approached a village, the disciples went off to look for food while Jesus headed for the well to quench his thirst. His throat was dry and his tongue hard. He looked into the depths of the well. There was lots of water there. But without a bucket how was he to get any. He had no choice but to wait until someone came along.

It was a Samaritan woman, an outcast even in her own society, who finally arrived at the well. The well was a deep one. It had an abundant supply of clear, sparkling water. Jesus watched as she lowered her bucket and brought it filled to overflowing.

He asked her for a drink. She was surprised that he would make the request of her. A Jewish man speaking to a Samaritan woman! Any self-respecting Jew would have endured his thirst. Even as a man, it was his duty not to descend to the level of asking a woman for help. But had he not done so, the conversation that followed could never have taken place.

That is what is behind her question. “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” She knows her place. She feels threatened by his request, and she gives voice to it. But she passes the bucket to him just the same. He sinks his head in and takes a long drink.

He goes on to tell her about a well so deep that it will never dry up. He speaks about living water. As he speaks she begins to see where her life has gone wrong. Somehow Jesus makes her conscious of the futility in her heart and life. He offers her fulfillment. The Samaritan woman left home for the purpose of drawing water. She found water of a very different sort. She met Jesus at the well and became a new person.

Her story does not stop there. She goes back to the village, filled with joy and expectation, filled with good news about this person that she has met and what it has meant in her life. “This couldn’t be the Messiah, could it?” she says to them and invites them to find out more about Jesus. They believe in him because they see such a transformation in this woman’s life. Their faith journey begins. They invite Jesus to stay with them for a time. They too drink from that deep well.

As individuals we all go through times of uncertainty when we feel that the well has run dry. Many have suffered loss of one kind or another whether it be through sickness, or the death of a loved one. In these uncertain economic times many have suffered through insecurity in their work, downsizing and even job loss. There are all the disappointments and difficulties of life. At such times it becomes difficult to hold onto our faith.

As a congregation too, the well has often seemed dry. We have certainly gone through many times of uncertainty. In fact it sometimes seems that uncertainty is the normal way of life in this parish. At such times it becomes difficult to trust the leadership, either clerical or lay. It is difficult to trust that the Diocese has our best interests at heart. We know as a community that people come to church looking for spiritual answers to their thirst. And we know too that this parish has much to offer to people who come. God’s abundant grace is so apparent in the ongoing life of this wonderful, dynamic parish. How do we truly trust God and open ourselves to the good things that are happening in this place? How do we begin to trust that the well is deep and the water is abundant and pure. For the well is deep. Our parish of St. Francis continues to be a life giving source of grace for many people. We offer good liturgy, faithful ministry, diversity, a strong life of prayer, and a wonderful sense of community. We reach out into the community with ever increasing generosity of spirit.

Are we thirsty enough to meet Jesus at the well? Do we with David say, "My soul thirsts for the living God?" Our journey through this wilderness time of Lent is an opportunity to acknowledge our thirst for God. Out of that kind of thirsting, out of the kind of acknowledgement that the Samaritan woman made, out of the acceptance of our need for God, out of our reliance on God's mercy, comes that gift of grace that is able to quench our spiritual thirst.

Grace affects all of our relationships beginning with our relationship with God. But most important, it manifests itself in action in our lives. Our lives become focused on others. We learn to share the grace by which we have been graced. Not by looking for Brownie points. First of all, God doesn't give them. But even more important, we don't need them. Grace is free. We share grace by offering Christian service, the kind of service that is always offered by practicing Christians. It is the kind of service that the world needs to see us doing, because it offers Christ to the world. It is seeing God's grace manifested in us that will change the world. People will begin to say for real, "See these Christians – how they love one another!"

Marvellous things happen when we begin to awaken to the wonderful things that God has in store for us. Let us put our trust in God's promises. God has the answer for our spiritual needs. God has the answer for our physical needs too. Let us pray that God will give us the grace and the vision to be everything that God is calling us to be.

The Second Sunday of Lent, Year A

2011-03-19T08:39:00.000-04:00

Welcome Spring!

Readings: Genesis 12:1-4a; Psalm 121; Romans 4:1-5, 13-17; John 3:1-17

Today is the first day of spring. According to the Farmer’s Almanac it will happen at precisely 7:21 pm. When we consider the coming of spring we think in terms of growth and new life. Already around us we see the signs. This past week we have felt its warmth. Daylight is coming earlier and staying longer. In the warmer spots in the garden shoots are beginning to appear. The earth is warming up and preparing for the growth that marks our spring weather.

The word ‘lent’ although quite properly associated with fasting and penitence literally means ‘spring’. It is a very good way to consider the season, for just as spring is a season of growth so Lent is meant to be a season of spiritual growth, a time of re-awakening. It is a season of great hope. It gives us time to reflect on change and transition in our lives.

Not that change is easy for any of us! When our lives change we are often faced with a new awareness of how attached we are to our old ways. We find it difficult to put down new roots that help us grow in new directions. That takes more trust than most of us are able to muster.

That is why the story of Abraham is so important to us. For it is a story not only of the great faithfulness of God, but also of our human ability to trust in that faithfulness.

In a time of migration of peoples about four thousand years ago, Terah travelled west with his son Abram, his daughter-in-law Sarah and his grandson Lot from Ur near the deltas of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. They settled for a time in Haran, but after Terah’s death God called Abram to leave his homeland and set out to a strange place. It was a time of hope for this band of people, for Abram received God’s promise of new life. His descendants, God promised, would become a great nation if he trusted in God.

Amazingly Abram did not hesitate. He acted on God’s promise. He went where God led, even though it meant living as an alien resident. It is the touching story of a family leaving a homeland in search of a better life. Being uprooted and displaced, whether by war, disaster or choice is part of our human heritage. It is the experience of millions of people living as refugees in our own times. It is the story of many people in this parish. But of more importance to us today, seeking new life is a part of our faith story.

It is the story of Nicodemus in the Gospel. He came to Jesus by night, sneaking in the back way so that others wouldn’t see him. After all he was a devout and learned leader in the Jewish community. It would not have been good for his reputation to seem too interested in this upstart young revolutionary. He had witnessed some of Jesus' miracles. He wanted to check them out. He had some faith, but his faith was based on wrong assumptions about what Jesus was about. His wrong assumptions left him with some burning questions about Jesus. Who was this man? How was he able to perform such amazing miracles? What was he all about? He wanted to understand, and yet when Jesus explained it to him, he kept taking it literally. When it comes to faith, literal, concrete explanations simply won't do. Faith needs to be experienced. Nicodemus needed to get beyond his intellect; he needed to have a change of heart. He needed to begin to rely on God’s grace.

Nicodemus learned, that night what we all need to learn. He discovered who Jesus really is. He began a lasting relationship with Jesus. This is just the first of several times that we meet Nicodemus. He later defended Jesus against the Pharisees. He brought spices to the tomb to prepare Jesus’ body for burial. Was he amongst the faithful who saw the resurrected Lord? I suspect so, for he discovered what we all need to find out. He learned that knowing Jesus, coming into relationship with him, is about accessing God's free gift of grace. He learned that it is not about carrying a heavy load of guilt around with you, but about unburdening your load and letting God's forgiveness take effect in your life. He learned what it means to be born from above. He learned that life abundant and eternal is a gift from above. It isn’t something to be earned or achieved. It isn't something that can be claimed or proven. It isn't a reward for being awfully good or studying the scriptures.

That is something that each one of us needs to understand. We really need to take it in. “God so loved the world”, John says, “that he gave his only son so that everyone who believes in him may not perish, but have eternal life.” That is about having a relationship with God. It is about being born again, converted, transformed, saved. I recognize that for many Anglicans such language is often foreign. Whatever language you wish to use to describe it, every one of us needs it, no matter how we arrive at it.

For some people conversion is an earth shattering and dramatically sudden change in perspective. Take St. Augustine for example. In his “Confessions” he relates the following. “I was weeping in the most bitter contrition of my heart, when I heard the voice of children from a neighbouring house chanting, "take up and read; take up and read." I could not remember ever having heard the like, so checking the torrent of my tears, I arose, interpreting it to be no other than a command from God to open the book and read the first chapter I should find. Eagerly then I returned to the place where I had laid the volume of the apostle. I seized, opened, and in silence read that section on which my eyes first fell: "Not in revelry and drunkenness, not in licentiousness and lewdness, not in strife and envy; but put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to fulfill its lusts." No further would I read, nor did I need to. For instantly at the end of this sentence, it seemed as if a light of serenity infused into my heart and all the darkness of doubt vanished away.” There is no doubt that the experience changed his life. His conversion led to his devoting his life to his faith.

We do not all experience that dramatic change in our lives. Many of us meet God in a quiet way, through the beauty of our world, through prayer, through meditation, through a blessing, in a sermon, in a conversation, through a personal relationship. God even meets us at the least expected times when we think our lives are crumbling around us. God is there at times of loss in our lives. All of the ways in which God meets us are times of grace. Such times of grace meet particular needs at particular moments. They all answer God's command to "love one another even as I have loved you."
The grace of God accomplishes great things in our lives. Through the grace of God working in us, great things happen. Jesus said that if we have the faith of a grain of mustard seed we could move mountains, mountains of hatred, of indifference, of pride, of suffering. Through the grace of our efforts, through prayer, through the sacraments, through the word read, spoken and preached, we receive sufficient grace to move those mountains, grace sufficient to our needs. We reach out, we touch, we use. Grace increases.

John’s gospel focuses on our relation with God. It is a relationship modeled and embodied in Jesus Christ. It is a relationship of love flowing in all directions. To be born again means grasping God’s great gift to us, the gift of this relationship and allowing it to bring new life into our darkness. Let this Lent be an opportunity to grow in new directions, to come into a deeper awareness of God's grace at work in our lives and to know God's abiding presence in our lives and the life of the world. Let it be a time to move out of the darkness into God's own gracious light.

The First Sunday of Lent, Year A

2011-03-11T14:53:00.000-05:00

Making Choices

Readings: Genesis 2:7-9; 3:1-7; Psalm 32; Romans 5:12-19; Matthew 4:1-11

In the Old Testament lesson we heard the account Adam and Eve's disobedience and the resulting tragic story of fallen humankind. God begins by giving human creation freedom and limits, leaving us with choices to make: "You may eat freely of every tree of the garden;" God tells Adam and Eve, "but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat."

The serpent, one of God's creatures, poses a tempting question. "Did God say, 'You shall not eat from any tree in the garden?'"

The woman explains. "We may eat of any of the trees but the tree of good and evil. If we eat any of its fruit we will die."

The serpent continues, "You will not die; your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God." What a temptation that was. What a choice to have to make! To be like God! In fact, it was so tempting that they began to recognize the state they were in, their nakedness and their sense of shame, and ultimately their sense of brokenness, of broken relationship with God, the alienation that is part and parcel of our human condition.

Our lives are filled with opportunities to make choices. Most are simple. What should I wear today? What would I like to eat? What time should I get up? Most choices do not even require much thought. They are automatic.

But there are choices in our lives that require considerable reflection. Is this the right person with whom to spend the rest of my life? Should I change jobs? Where should I live? These are choices that may affect the very fabric and direction of our lives.

Olympic athletes must make difficult choices. It is not enough to have talent. Competing in a sport sounds glamorous but when you are standing outside ready to begin practice at five o'clock in the morning and your muscles still ache from yesterday's workout there is nothing to hold you there except your goals. To make it to the top, athletes put aside everything else – family, friends, relationships. The final performance at the Olympics may seem effortless but those athletes have chosen to put everything else aside.

In extreme cases, choices can even be a matter of life and death. In one of my favourite Star Trek episodes, Jean Luc Picard, the Captain of the Starship Enterprise once again encounters his nemesis, an immortal being named Q. Picard is dying because of some damage that was done to his heart in a youthful accident. Q takes him back in time to the place where it happened, and forces him to consider whether he chose wisely. He shows him how it would have turned out had he chosen other paths. Picard knows that he would survive if he changed his early choice. But in the end he realizes that the changes would not have been for the better.

Choices, particularly moral choices, are difficult for us to make. Sometimes the distinctions between them are unclear. Society constantly presents us with choices between what the world chooses and what we know as Christians to be right, questions about how to live with integrity in the business world and in society. As Christians in a secular world, we very often fear making unpopular choices. We do not want to be seen as different. Yet this is a society that very much needs us as Christians to take a stand, to be at the forefront of ethical decision making. If we, the church will not take an ethical stand, who will? Yet when we do so, we run the risk of being ignored or branded as fanatical.

In all of this we have a choice. Our choices can be God's choices for us. We can choose not to participate in activities that we know to be detrimental to society. If we were to choose good over evil in each situation, how would our world change?

And so that brings us to Jesus and the choices that he made. In that wilderness place Jesus was confronted by three very human temptations. "You must be hungry,” Satan said to him. “Use your power to turn those stones into bread. Throw yourself down from the temple. You will not be harmed. Angels will protect you. Fall down and worship me. Everything you see will be yours." Jesus is confronted by three temptations that come to all of us; food, religion and politics. What could be the harm in any of them? They are all ways for Jesus to become an influence, to become known to people. Wouldn’t that be a good thing? The problem with such temptations is that they all have powerful meaning in our lives, so they can all be abused. With his deep connection to humankind, Jesus resists the temptations. He lives by that great commandment, “Love God and love your neighbour.”

Times of temptation will occur in our lives. We may have a deep sense of loss because of the death of a loved one. We may lose our job, or go through the pain of a broken relationship. We may suffer through sickness, or depression. We may be tempted by power or by wealth at the cost of integrity. How we allow such times in our lives to bring us into relationship with God and with others is the measure of the temptation.

Each of us has the power through our choices to shape and give meaning to life. Living as a Christian is a response to a deliberate choice. It calls for a decision to place our faith in Christ. It is a call to commitment.

Lent is a wilderness time in the Church year. It is a time of commitment to spiritual growth. It provides us with an opportunity to reflect on the meaning and consequences of our choices. Our life is a series of choices. What has shaped your life? What shape would you like it to take? How can it take new shape during this holy season of Lent? It is an opportunity for us to reform ourselves, to allow God's Holy Spirit to re-shape us so that our whole community is re-created. I have heard that forty days is the optimal time in which to re-shape some aspect of one's life. Let us use this time, not primarily as a time to give up something, but as a time to bring ourselves into a closer and more open relationship with our creator. Let it be a holy and life-giving Lent for each of us.

Ash Wednesday

2011-03-09T16:18:00.001-05:00

A Time for Listening

Readings: Joel 2:1-2, 11-19; Psalm 103; 2 Corinthians 5:20-6:2; Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

The trumpet call of Joel is sounded as a warning. A locust plague is about to descend on the people of Israel. The sky is black with its approach. It is devouring everything in its path. "Even now," he tells them, "it is not too late." He calls them to fast and pray. It is a call to conversion. It is a call to return to God.

Such a call could go out into the world in which we live every single day. The world needs to be converted, not primarily to Christianity, but simply to humanity. Look at the injustice in our world. How many children will go to bed hungry tonight? How many people, even in our own wealthy cities and towns, lack shelter? How many people have died in the struggle for freedom?

We live in a world of injustice and cruelty. What a topsy-turvy place it is. There are hockey players who earn more than entire towns in Africa! There are people whose personal wealth could wipe out the national debt of any third world nation. What greed exists in a society that allows a few people to control that much wealth when millions are living in poverty, even in first world countries? There is more than enough wealth in the world to wipe out economic poverty. Do we care enough to make it happen?

Joel calls us to rend our hearts, not our garments. Romero, the Bishop of San Salvador, martyred for his advocacy of the poor, calls us to a preferential option for the poor. Jesus calls us to store up for ourselves treasures in heaven rather than on earth. They are all calls to examine our lives and consider how we might live differently.

There are many ways that we can begin to live more responsibly, creatively and compassionately. I hope that this Lent we will take seriously our call to change our hearts of stone into hearts of flesh. In a world like ours, we truly have to rend our hearts, acknowledge our guilt and ask God to create in us a clean heart. Then we have to act on our convictions and change the way we live our lives to reflect our faith.

We think of Lent as time for giving up. I think that Lent is primarily a time for listening, for going into the sanctuary of our hearts and searching the corners and shadows for the way God wants us to live.

Lent is a time for listening. It is a time for resting in the life, passion and death of Jesus. It is a time for choosing a unique, personal path of discipleship. It is a time for listening. It is not a time for self-denial unless that is what we hear in our hearts. It is not a time for giving or self-giving unless we hear those words within our hearts. It is not a time for fasting unless we hear those words in our hearts.

Lent is a time for listening. Let us listen to God's call for the way God wants us to live. Let us trust our hearts and live as God calls us.

The Last Sunday of Epiphany, Year A

2011-03-04T15:54:00.000-05:00

Glimpses of Grandeur

Readings: Exodus 24:12-18; Psalm 2; 2 Peter 1:16-21; Matthew 17:12-18

Throughout this Epiphany season God has been revealed to us in many ways. We have worshipped with the Magi. We watched Jesus as he entered the waters of baptism in the Jordan River. We have talked about what it means to serve God. We have learned about the God we serve. We have been encouraged in our own sense of discipleship. We have reflected on the Beatitudes with their radical call to justice. We have struggled with what God requires of us. Today on this last Sunday of Epiphany we follow Jesus to the mountaintop where we see him transfigured before us. It is a mountaintop experience, which is intended to carry us through the forty-day journey that lies ahead of us and ends at the foot of the cross.

If you have ever been on a mountaintop you know that everything looks different from up there. I travelled one summer through the "Rockies". It was an awesome experience. I had seen postcards of Banff and some of the other scenic spots showing the beauty and grandeur of the mountains. But the experience of being there, of standing as if you are on the very edge of the world looking down on God's creation, is inexpressible. The breathtaking beauty is only part of the experience. To drive up and up on those winding roads, to feel the change in gears, to experience the change in atmosphere, are all part of it. I remember leaving Banff in the warmth of a summer day and then a couple of hours later having my breath taken away by the rush of cold air that greeted me as I stepped out of the car in Rogers Pass.

In the worldview of ancient Israel it was on the mountaintop that Heaven met Earth. God could be perceived more clearly and completely from the mountain. It was from the mountaintop that the most important revelations were issued. Indeed it is sometimes so far beyond our ability to understand God that we cannot begin to get a clear picture from where we usually live. We need to get away from the distractions and demands of everyday living to keep our vision clear and fresh.

The disciples who gathered around Jesus during his earthly ministry had left everything to follow Jesus. They may have assumed that their sacrifices would resolve into positions of wealth and glory. Did they think that Jesus was to be Israel's future king? Certainly Peter, James and John were in a wilderness time in their lives. The euphoria of following Jesus has been shattered by the revelation of what messiahship would involve. They have discovered that this is a call for Jesus, not to insurrection, but to rejection and death. How shattering that was for his faithful followers, especially coming so close on the heels of Peter's confession that Jesus is Messiah!

And so Jesus takes these three close disciples to the mountain where he is transformed or changed before them. "His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white," we are told. It is a totally new way for the disciples of viewing Jesus – a view of the ultimate glory of righteousness. And then Moses and Elijah, both of whom experienced rejection and suffering, both of whom were expected to return in connection with the messianic age, are there with him.

No wonder Peter wants to enshrine it. He wants to hold the memory in a real and tangible way. He has caught a glimpse of glory. He doesn't want to lose it. But there is more. So much more! Once again God speaks those same words for the three that Jesus and John heard at his baptism in the Jordan River. "This is my Son, the Beloved! With him I am well pleased; listen to him!" If they have any doubts about who this is, they are dispelled. God is revealed to them.

We tend to think of "mountaintop experiences" as being ecstatic experiences, emotional highs. True revelations are very difficult to express to other people. I suspect that is because it is a uniquely personal experience. It is meaningful to the person within his or her own context. And so we search for the right words to describe our experience of God. It is that inexpressible quality that leads us to call those deep revelations "mountaintop experiences".

Those of us who live a normal Christian life spend most of our time with both feet firmly on the ground. We try to live the Christian life. We participate in worship. We give our time and talents to the work of the Church. We spend time in prayer and study. We try to live a good and moral life.

Life is not an easy journey. We all experience wilderness times in our lives, times of frustration, pain, suffering, difficulty. Sometimes it seems as if there will be no end to the wilderness time. When one thing after another happens to us, we ask the age-old questions. Why is this happening to me? Why must I suffer? Our faith comes into question. It is at those times that we call on our mountaintop experiences, those times when God was revealed to us in some inexplicable way that gave us a glimpse of glory.

It is those deep experiences of God that make it possible for people facing deep tragedy not only to sustain their faith, but to continue to affirm that God is a God of love, that God is there for them. When I look back over my life I become aware of many such moments. They are often just fleeting glimpses of the grandeur of God. The easy ones to express are times when I have experienced God through a great piece of music, a walk in the woods, a stimulating conversation with a friend, a synergistic moment when the right story or the right word came at exactly the right time. I have to say that some of them I would have great difficulty even beginning to explain to you. There have been moments of great clarity when I knew that God was with me. There have been times of prayer when I felt a deep connection to God. There have been times of danger when life was spinning out of control, and yet I knew that God was there.

They are not experiences that we can go looking for. They are ways in which God chooses to be revealed to us. It is about letting God lead us. It is about opening ourselves to God. It is about letting God come into relationship with us.

During this season we have reflected how God has been and is being revealed to us. We began and ended with the same words, “This is my Son the Beloved.” Hopefully those words are a wonderful reminder that God wants to come into relationship with us. God is powerful and mysterious beyond our understanding. It is through our relationship with Jesus that we glimpse the mystery a little more clearly and closely.

On Ash Wednesday we begin a wilderness time in the Church's year. We begin a forty-day journey that ends at the foot of the cross. We take with us a glimpse of the mystery of God. We take with us the knowledge that God wants to be in relationship with us, and that we too are beloved children of God. Amen. Alleluia!

Eighth Sunday after Epiphany, Year A

2011-02-26T09:54:00.000-05:00

“Where Do We Go From Here?”

Readings: Isaiah 49:8-16a; Psalm 131; 1 Corinthians 4:1-5; Matthew 6:24-34

Today we are celebrating Black History month as we have for the past nine years. Once again we welcome friends and family members to this joyous occasion. It is an opportunity to celebrate the gifts and talents of this parish that is home to people of diverse cultural and racial backgrounds. A few years ago one of our Lay Readers preached for this service. I remember her saying that she hoped that some day soon it would be unnecessary to set aside a special day to celebrate Black History. She hoped and prayed that in this city of ours we would all be of one mind. It reminded me of a question that Martin Luther King asked in a famous speech he gave in 1967. “Where do we go from here?”

He said that in order to answer the question we needed to know where we had been. He went on to explain that when the American Constitution was written there was a rather curious formula that declared that the black was sixty percent of a person. However, at the time of his speech he figured that the percentage had actually dropped to fifty percent since blacks had approximately half of the good things of life and twice the bad things of life when compared to whites. He backed his statement by giving some of the shocking statistics of the United States about the situation of blacks in terms of education, the unemployment rate, and the death rate of blacks serving in Vietnam. He also said that because of our sense of superiority, on the whole we whites do not educate ourselves out of our racial ignorance.

As we celebrate today in our parish, I hope and pray that the last forty years have seen big changes when it comes to racial prejudice. Indeed, we pride ourselves as Canadians at being an open and welcoming nation to people of every race and colour. However, looking at the current statistics about education and crime, it would appear that vast injustices still take place here. In Canada, blacks compared to whites have a higher suicide rate, a greater chance of being incarcerated, a higher high school dropout rate and lower income than their white counterparts. So we do still need to come together in celebration. We do need to continue to ask Martin Luther King’s question, “Where do we go from here?” Where is the hope?

The first reading today from the prophet Isaiah is a song of consolation written to the people of Israel during the Babylonian exile. It was, for those exiled people, a song of great hope. Its promises helped them to look forward to better times. Those who were imprisoned would be set free. Those living in darkness would be drawn into the light. Those who travelled along desolate highways would be provided with food and shelter and guided to refreshing springs of clear water. It would all come about through embracing a right relationship with God. God, the prophet points out, is so committed to the relationship that freedom is bound to be the result.

The passage resonates in me. It reminds me of one of my Welsh mother’s favourite hymns. I remember her singing it to us in her beautiful, clear soprano voice. The hymn was “Hark, My Soul it is the Lord” from the old Book of Common Praise, but it was one particular verse that she loved. It brought out her maternal instincts. The feminist in me says that it was the surprise to her to see an image of God that was other than white male.

“Can a mother’s tender care
Cease toward the child she bear?
Yes, she may forgetful be
Yet will I remember thee.”

It is a beautiful image of God caring for us even more than a mother cares for her child. And as I reflect on Isaiah’s message the hymn evokes so much more in me than those warm memories. It speaks of a God of consolation who can give hope to any number of people in our world. Today its message might bring hope to the people of Christchurch in Australia as they mourn the loss of life and the destructive powers of the earthquake that destroyed much of their city. It might bring hope to the people of Libya as they continue to fight for freedom. Surely for our black brothers and sisters it brings a message of consolation and hope. For it, and such liberation passages of Scripture have resonated with people throughout history. It is a song that is resonated in the words of many of the Spirituals and other black music. It reminds us of the love of a God who cannot see the petty differences we fabricate, but only the beauty of the image in which God created each one of us.

Perhaps the most important message for us to carry away with us today as we celebrate Black Heritage is the call to Israel to be a “covenant to the people” and a “light to the nations”. It speaks to us of our need to pay attention to the physical reality of people who are in exile whether it is the result of war, natural disaster, poverty, racism or injustice of any kind. Our God is compassionate beyond measure. God feels the suffering of humanity as much as a mother might feel the suffering of her children. God works to bring us all back into the safety and joy of a covenant relationship. The mission of the Church and of each one of us as Christians is to reflect the divine effort of reconciliation in a world which is still characterized by exile, by racial division, and by prejudice.

And so that question, “Where do we go from here?” continues. The Gospel reminds us that God demands our ultimate obedience. Nothing less will do. God needs to be ultimate in our lives. If we are to experience peace within revolution, security within instability, we must be set free by God to serve God. We must be committed, not to what is in it for us, but to God’s teachings and purpose. That is what we need to consider in our every aspect of our lives. It needs to drive our relationships, our friendships, our skills, talents, charisms and gifts. If it does then racial divisions will end. We will be an inclusive community of faith that cannot help but be covenant and light. Amen.

The Seventh Sunday after the Epiphany Year A

2011-02-18T17:27:00.001-05:00

Walking the Extra Mile

Readings: Leviticus 19:1-2, 9-18; Psalm 119:33-40; 1 Corinthians 3:10-11, 16-23; Matthew 5:38-48

The gospel for this Sunday is once again from the Beatitudes, the Sermon on the Mount. I have to admit, that “Don’t worry! Be happy!” philosophy that runs through the chapter begins to cloy after a while. The Old Testament reading from Leviticus is one thing as it reminds us of our need to love our neighbour. What is Jesus thinking in taking it all so much further? Jesus reminds us that we are called to love those who harm us, oppress us, and even enemies intent on destroying us. We are to offer those harming us the other cheek. We are to give those trying to steal our coat, our cloak as well. We are to offer to walk the extra mile, to give liberally to everyone who asks, to do good to those who persecute us. We are to smile through it all. And then the clincher as Jesus sums it all up. “Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.”

I think it is the perfection that really gets to me. That kind of hyperbole, if that is what it is, is a sad reality that has driven many to despair, compulsion, perhaps even suicide. It isn’t enough that many people drive themselves to perfection in their work and in their scholastic endeavours. The lives of saints are filled with tales of self-abuse. Then there are the young women whose body image causes them to diet to the point of anorexia. Or the cult leader who imposes his doctrine on a group of people. The path to human perfection has even led to schemes to rid the world of whole races of people.

So what is Jesus on about? What did he mean by telling us to be perfect the way God is perfect? How can we be perfect, flawless, completely pure and whole? We will never be able to get rid of all the imperfections in our lives. We will never be able to cut them away or change them so that we are perfect. Truly Jesus must have had something else in mind, something that issues from his unique understanding of God. In the Beatitudes, Jesus is teaching the disciples about the coming of the kingdom. It is a teaching deeply rooted in his understanding of the call of the Christian to perfection in this life. It is a call that brings God and humanity into closer relationship and allows the kingdom of God to exist here and now. It is a call that truly asks of the Christian to walk the extra mile in everything that they do.

So when Jesus asks us to learn to love even our enemies it is so that we will no longer return evil for evil, but will find some way to offer blessing and love. Because Jesus knows that it is what the world needs. The question remains for me. How do I even begin to learn to do that? How do I begin to learn to breathe love the same way that my heart beats? How does love become a part of my very being?

I would have found it much easier to understand if Jesus had told me a story. It might have gone something like this. A man set out on his usual jogging route one afternoon. He headed down a busy street towards the park. He had not gone far when he felt a terrible pain in his chest. He fell right there in the street. There were lots of people around. A woman close by noticed him fall. “He must be drunk!” she said to herself as she crossed over to the other side of the street without even a second glance.

A man in a business suit looked at his watch. “If I stop and help him I’ll be late,” he muttered to himself and pretended that he hadn’t seen what happened.

Mary was driving her daughter home from school. She saw the man as he began to fall. She saw him grab at his chest. She pulled over. “Call 911!” she said to her daughter. “Tell them where we are and that we need an ambulance right away.” She got out of the car and turned the man over. She could see that his colour was poor. Somehow or other her Girl Guide training in CPR came back to her. By the time the ambulance pulled up she was breathing life back into him. They got him stable and prepared to take him to the hospital. Not wanting him to face this all alone, she followed along in her car. She and her daughter waited with him until his family arrived at the hospital. He called her his guardian angel. When asked why she stayed with him, she said, “We need to walk the extra mile for one another.”

Come to think of it, Jesus did tell that story. He told it many times and in many ways. It is after all the story of the compassion of the Good Samaritan who walked the extra mile for a stranger in need. It is the story too of the Prodigal Father who cared so much for his son that he would not give up on him but lavished love on him. It is Jesus’ own story, for he loved us so much that he gave up his life on the cross for us.

Walking the extra mile, turning the other cheek, giving until it hurts is not about trying as hard as we can to love God and to love our neighbour. It is not about being perfectionists. It is about living generously. It is about allowing God’s grace to work in our lives. After all that is how God lives with us. That is the possibility for which we were made. So it is about understanding how much God loves us and then allowing God’s love to transform our lives so that we have all the love we need to pour out for others to become everything that God is calling us to be. Wouldn’t that bring about God’s kingdom here on earth?

Not posting this week

2011-02-11T10:37:00.001-05:00

I am not posting a sermon this week. Our Lay Pastoral Associate is preaching. If I were preaching, I suspect it would be about choosing life from the Deuteronomy passage.

The 5th Sunday after the Epiphany, Year A

2011-02-04T10:27:00.000-05:00

Salt and Light

Readings: Isaiah 58:1-12; Psalm 112:1-10; 1 Corinthians 2:1-16; Matthew 5:13-20

Discipleship is an exciting and challenging task that demands of us every ounce of creativity and energy we possess. How do we distinguish between the ways of the world and the ways of God? The choices are usually far from easy. The real measure of right and wrong comes, not from pronouncements made by the governing body of the church, or from rules and regulations rigidly adhered to, but by our actions towards others. The ethics professor at Trinity constantly reminded us that the basis of our ethical decisions should be whether or not we were doing – here his West Indian accent always came out! – "the lovin' t'ing."

It is the doing, the action, the lovin’ t’ing, that is behind two powerful images in the Gospel, salt and light. “Salt of the earth,” Jesus called the disciples. “Light of the world,” he said to them. “You are salt and light.” When Jesus says 'you are salt' it is no small compliment. Salt was essential to life in the ancient world. It was, of course, used to preserve food. It was also a requirement for sacrifices. It was mixed with incense for the temple. It was used as a sign of covenant. It was even rubbed on newborn babies. Not that it was easily attainable. It had to be mined and transported with considerable labour and expense.

And yet to us it is such a modest metaphor! It is not dramatic at all. It is certainly not overwhelming. It is simply a functional, everyday metaphor, and yet it has a dramatic effect on the environment. In many cultures salt is a symbol of hospitality. It changes food. It makes it tastier, livelier. At this time of year in Canada it is especially vital. It melts ice. Where would we have been during this past week without salters out on the roads? We use it as a healing agent, a cleanser. Yet simple and everyday as it is, salt has caused wars and revolutions. It has led to trading partnerships. It is a basic human need. Without it we would not survive.

For the Jewish nation every sacrifice was seasoned with salt to remind the people of their need to remain faithful to the Covenant between them and God. The salt made the covenant a binding agreement. It represented loyalty and truthfulness between them. Salt was a symbol that could heal the rift in a relationship. If there was no salt used in the Covenant it meant barrenness. So being a disciple of Jesus called for a good seasoning of salt.

Light is also a simple metaphor, but a wonderful compliment. It abolishes darkness. The darker the darkness, the more visible the light! We do not even realize how essential light is to us until we find ourselves in the dark hunting for a flashlight or a candle. We have all experienced blackouts. We had one in the north end of Mississauga a couple of weeks ago. There have, of course, been serious blackouts like the one a few summers ago that left us without power for days.

When Jesus says 'you are light' it is a contemporary Christ making an unapologetic call to contemporary Christian vocation. We are meant to see the metaphor of light in terms of our relationship as disciples of God.

In Aboriginal folklore, God first created animals. God called all the creatures together and gave each of them a gift in a box. The Old Turtle immediately opened his box and from it came the earth for the animals to inhabit. The whale opened her box and out poured life-giving water. One by one the creatures opened their gifts and creation came into being. But they could not see the beauty of what God had given them, for there was no light. Finally there remained only one box unopened. It belonged to the seagull who was determined to keep it for himself. The animals pleaded and pleaded. But the gull refused to share his gift. Finally the animals tricked him into opening the box and out poured streams of light. They could finally see the beauty that God had created.

Being light is a social thing. It must be shared. Light shines in our Christian community not only through personal conversion to Christ, but by our actions in the world, by doing the 'lovin' t'ing'. Our call to be light is a call to reach out to others in compassion. It is when we live with compassion that we truly encounter God and understand the joy that comes from discipleship.

So what does it mean for us to be salt? What does it mean to be light? Jesus calls us, his followers, to be salty Christians. He calls us to light up the world around us. It is a call to conduct our lives so that we will bring attention to the presence of God within us. It is a call to discipleship, an exciting and challenging task which takes every ounce of creativity and energy that we possess.

As we move forward in ministry we need to be salty Christians. To be salty is to have a spiritual thirst that means that you cannot help but want to learn more about God. It means that you want to share what you have learned with others. To be salty is to keep alive our baptismal covenant in which we promised to follow Christ’s teachings, to resist sinful behaviour, to be a Godly example to the world, to see Christ in others, to let others see Christ in us, to strive for peace and justice.

You are called to be light. You are called to light up a world in desperate need of light. In so many ways these are dark days. There is much to be worried about in our modern day society. It is a violent society. We face economic shifts that affect us globally. The environment is sick. We as the people of God have experienced the grace of God’s light. We are called to share that light with others.

When did God use you as salt? We have all been salt to someone. Perhaps God has used you to help thaw someone’s heart so that they could love again. Perhaps you gave someone hope when they were feeling desperate. Maybe you helped someone to heal from life’s hurts. Perhaps you listened in compassion to someone’s story as they opened up to you, trusting you with their innermost thoughts. Was it when you comforted a lost and frightened child? Was it the time you cried with someone in their pain and sorrow?

Has God used you to light up someone’s life? Did you mend a lost friendship? When did your smile light up a room and bring joy into another person’s life? Have you brought someone to faith? Have you seen the change in that person as God transformed them? Have you acted on an impulse and brought dinner to someone in need? Have you given a helping hand to a friend? Have you reached out into the community?

Then you have been salt. You have been light. In remembering to do the 'lovin' t'ing we are salt, and we are light, and we are Church. Amen

The Fourth Sunday after Epiphany, Year A

2011-01-28T16:14:00.002-05:00

I am not preaching this Sunday. My Lay Pastoral Associate is. I look forward to hearing what she has to say about the Beatitudes.

Third Sunday after Epiphany, Year A

2011-01-22T09:00:00.000-05:00

Called to Discipleship

Readings: Isaiah 9:1-4; Psalm 27:1, 4-9; 1 Corinthians 1:10-18; Matthew 4:12-23

It is no mistake that during the season of Epiphany the consistent theme has been our call to discipleship. Epiphany is about the many ways in which God is revealed to us. From the revelation of God to the Magi to the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan to our own call as Christians, it is about our relationship with God. It is about how God's coming to us changes us.

God calls us as society. Isaiah speaks to Judah, a nation in exile. They have lost their relationship with God. Here finally he gives them a message of hope. In spite of their lack of faithfulness, they will know joy in the midst of darkness. God will not abandon them. Isaiah links the coming of new light with regaining their freedom, with bringing an end to the oppression that has caused them to abandon their faith in the first place.

Many Christians in South America and Africa have experienced first hand what Isaiah is speaking about. Consider the end of apartheid in South Africa. It took the faith of a nation led by political leaders like Nelson Mandela and faithful leaders of the Christian church like Desmond Tutu to bring that kind of joy in the midst of darkness. Archbishop Tutu is widely regarded as South Africa’s moral conscience. His work with the Truth and Reconciliation Commission made him the voice of the voiceless. He called the people, not just to freedom, but to condemn corruption and deal with the social issues of the nation. When I visited South Africa in 1998 as part of the Women’s Festival celebrating the decade of the churches in solidarity with women it was electrifying to experience the joy of the people in the community of Seshego where I stayed. They had a sense, not only of freedom, but of everything that God was calling their nation to be. They considered that they had a calling to bring light into the darkness of the world. Nothing, not the suffering of the past, not the continuing violence of their society, not even the scourge of AIDS, could keep them from expressing their joy and hope in serving God.

God calls us as Church. Paul writes to the churches in Corinth tackling the problem of their many divisions. He reminds the people that their loyalty must be to Christ and not to the particular leaders in their community. It is God that calls them. It is God who gives them their unique gifts. Their relationship needs to be with God and it needs to be a strong one that moves them past the quarrels and divisions so that they are able to be the people of God and bring transformation to their community.

It is a call to us at this time and in this place. As we end the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity we are faced with the challenge of where God is calling us to end the divisions in our own faith communities. The conflict experienced in the early church is not far different from what we face today. The challenge is certainly how to celebrate the diversity of styles, gifts and leadership without descending into destructive rivalries. It is especially poignant for us in the Church Centre as the Lutherans go through the painful process of closing. They are, I am certain, reflecting on where God is calling them as Church. Those are reflections that need to be before us constantly as a congregation. Where is God calling this community of faith? Are we being faithful to our call?

And God calls each one of us as individuals. Matthew recounts the story of Jesus calling the disciples. What has gone on before is of real significance. John baptized Jesus in the river Jordan. Jesus went into the desert by himself for forty days. He was tempted by the devil in the wilderness. He refused to use his divine powers for his own ends. Now he is ready to begin his ministry in earnest. He settles in Capernaum, rather a strange choice of place. It is a harbour town, home to cutthroats and pagans, not the easiest setting in which to begin his ministry. The words of Isaiah about bringing light into darkness flood into his consciousness. Empowered by those words, he realizes that God is with him illuminating the path. He sets out to find disciples to assist with the work.

The story of the call of the disciples is really pretty simple. But it raises two big questions, at least in my mind. The first is about Peter and Andrew. Jesus sees them casting their nets into the sea. He invites them to follow him. "I will make you fish for people," he says. They respond immediately. Why would two fishermen respond to an invitation from a total stranger?

Then the second question! James and John are helping their father mend the nets. He calls them. They leave their father and the boat and follow Jesus. Why would Jesus even ask James and John to desert their father in the middle of their work? Didn't Jesus care about their father, Zebedee, who depended on their help in the family business?

The crux of the matter is that being a disciple involves making decisions. If they were to do God's will they first had to respond to Jesus' invitation! As Christians, we too need to respond to the invitation. We need to make a conscious decision about what we will and will not do. Only then can God reach out to a society in need of transformation. So what is our response to the invitation? What will we do to bring light and healing into the lives of others?

We live in a society that is dehumanizing in so many ways. Many people in this day and age relate far more to a machine than they ever do with other people. Many of our friendships are in cyberspace. The sheer number of people who live and work in our cities also does not allow for relationship. I experienced that over this past week. For two days I went on the Go train into Toronto to attend a conference at Trinity College. Union Station is a maze of corridors meant to lead as many people as possible in the right direction. People become very goal oriented as the work their way as fast as possible to their destination. Despite the number of people I found it strangely quiet. I was unsure of exactly where to go, but the crowd carried me in its direction. I did end up in the right place, but I felt a total lack of connection to those very people who were compelling me to follow. I felt like a rat in a maze just going through the motions of making my own decision about where to go and how to get there.

As I reflect on our call as Church I believe our most important call is to be a warm and welcoming community that stands in contrast to all in society that dehumanizes. I suspect that most of you come to St. Francis because you find it to be exactly that, a warm and welcoming place that you call home. If it is that for you, then what action are you taking to make certain that it continues to be a place of nurture? How do we bring this church alive? How do we become a community of faith that engages society with a vision of God's kingdom? How do we convince people that we really do serve a loving God? Would they know it by the way we live our lives?

Our community needs the commitment of every one of us. We need to make a faith commitment that says that we are not simply a rat in a maze being carried along by the crowd not really knowing where we are headed. We must be disciples, each one of us, leaving the nets and following Jesus to learn at his feet. It takes a commitment to being in regular attendance at church. It takes a commitment to read Scripture, not just on Sunday, but every day; to take in and understand the Word of God; to become literate in the Christian faith; to prepare ourselves spiritually to be Christ in the world.

Our community needs each one of us to make a commitment of time and talent. This church depends on volunteers. As we approach Vestry it is a good opportunity to take seriously you call to give your time and your talents. It is easy to leave it to the faithful few until they simply burn out. Consider how you might serve. What are the skills that God is calling you to share in this community?

Our community needs each one of us to make a commitment of treasure. God has richly blessed us. We are privileged to live in one of the richest countries of the world. We may not be the wealthiest people in our country in the whole scale of things, but we have enough and more than enough. Yet we often live as if we are impoverished. Can we learn to give to God from our abundance?

Our community needs each of us to be so committed to the faith that people will be drawn in. For me that really is the only reasonable option. I must be so committed myself that people will be drawn in. I cannot be lukewarm about my faith and expect to encourage other people. It only takes a spark, but the spark has to be there. Bishop Victoria said that people are drawn to the faith because they smell God on you. There is a wonderful truth in that. The best way I know to bring people to faith is to live it out in my life. That means constantly inquiring further into the spiritual, learning all I can about God. It means setting aside time for reading the Scriptures and for prayer. It means examining my life and realizing that I fall short of God’s glory. It means asking God for forgiveness. It means seeing things the way God sees them. It means watching for the opportunities that God gives me to share the good news. It means following where God leads me. It means seeking out people in the way that Jesus sought out the disciples. It means engaging others in the vision and agenda of the kingdom with light and compassion.

I invite you to do exactly that! Amen.

The Second Sunday after Epiphany, Year A

2011-01-15T08:31:00.000-05:00

How To

Readings: Isaiah 49:1-7; Psalm 40:1-11; 1 Corinthians 1:1-9; John 1:29-42

One can find out how to do almost anything on the internet. There is actually a site called exactly that. It offers information amongst other things on how to teach an old dog new tricks, how to service your car, how to cook, how to run a garage sale, how to write a will or get a divorce, and even should you ever need to know, how to raise mealy worms. Now I have not checked out the information, but there are, of course no guarantees that what you might discover on such a website actually works.

The readings this week, on the other hand, present us with many useful ‘how to’s’ tried and trusted over many centuries. The psalm suggests how to find inner strength, how to tap into our hidden gifts and resources. It is a psalm that praises God for deliverance from a tumultuous experience of desolation. In it, despair turns to praise as the psalmist remembers how trustworthy God is. Even in the midst of his troubles he remembers the times that God has been faithful. He opens his heart in praise.

Paul writes a letter to a Christian community not noted for its harmony. It is a fractured and divided community. They are richly endowed with spiritual gifts, but love often seems to be lacking. Paul knows that God has chosen them. God only knows why. Paul’s actions give us a good model for ministry. He continues to pray for them, to give thanks for their gifts, and to understand that part of his call is to bring back those who are struggling with the faith. He affirms the work they are doing. He affirms their gifts. Somehow or other God does get it right. Everything comes together.

In the Gospel there is a very simple ‘how to’ about evangelism that gives a demonstration of what God calls us to do. Two of John’s disciples overhear a conversation in which John the Baptist proclaims, “Look! The Lamb of God!” It is enough to pique their curiosity. They follow Jesus. Jesus engages them in conversation and finally invites them to see where he is staying. It is an invitation they immediately accept. But it does not stop there. Andrew, one of the two disciples heads off to find his brother. He can hardly wait to share his experience. When he finds his brother he says to him, “We have found the Messiah.”

What can we learn from these simple ‘how tos’? Many people are calling for a return to faith in God. People are searching because they are reeling from the brokenness of the world in which we live. The drug culture, the violence of our modern society, the breakdown of family values, the failure of marriages, terrible events like 9-11 and the Tucson rampage of last week, the murder of a police officer on the streets of Toronto, the impact of the natural disasters which seem to be happening in every corner of the globe! People are more and more aware of the uncertainty of time. That is when people begin to ask deep faith questions about life and about life to come. That is when they look for fulfillment in their lives.

That makes it a fruitful time for the Christian church, a time of opportunity, a time in which we should have increasing relevance. And yet often we don’t. We remain stuck in old ways of doing things. We should be reaching out to the seekers and the unchurched in our society. We should be finding ways to meet the spiritual needs of the community. In this season of Epiphany during which we celebrate the many ways that God is revealed to us, we have an opportunity to reflect, not only on our baptismal call, but also on our responsibility to do exactly that, to reach out to those who are seeking.

The gospel does not simply tell us that we are called to discipleship. It demonstrates it for us. It gives us a wonderful model to follow. The first thing, the very first thing that Andrew does when he is introduced to Jesus is to take his brother to see him. He does not worry about his lack of qualifications. He does not consider what his brother might think of his actions. He does not wait for someone else to do it for him. He acts. We think that it is such a big deal to share our faith. It is so 'unanglican'. It was natural for the disciples. How do we make it natural to share our faith in our workplace and in our community? How do we begin to share our religious experiences?

It surely begins by considering our own call. Why do you go to church? Seriously, why? Why are you called? What difference does being a Christian make in your life? If you don't know the answer to that question, you are not ready to share the gospel.

What really counts is that Jesus Christ calls us to this tradition. We are still reading the same Scriptures that were read two thousand years ago. We are breaking the same bread and sharing the same cup that have been broken and shared for two thousand years. Our baptism calls us to share in a tradition that goes back two thousand years. Either we are in a terrible rut, or God is calling us to do something about it. What does God want from us? How do we live that out in a changing society?

We are called to discipleship, to share our faith, to have an impact on society. Most of us just say that it is an impossible task. We become so immobilized by anger or fear or insecurity that we cannot do anything to bring about change. But surely if we are creative, we can do something to improve conditions. We can feed hungry people. We can lobby the government for adequate housing. Think of the wonderful outreach our parish accomplished during the last year. We gave money to FaithWorks that funds community ministries like the Dam and Anglican Houses. We provided services at Credit Valley Hospital, Erin Meadows, Edenwood and Heritage Glen. Our ACW raised funds for many wonderful projects. We provided families with Christmas hampers. We made over twenty gift boxes for Samaritan's Purse. We provided hundreds of dollars in food vouchers for needy people in our community. The list can go on and on.
But there is more to discipleship, isn't there? We need to show people what God is like. And truly it may not happen as it has in the past. People who have no memory of church or what impact faith can have in one’s life will look for fulfillment in other ways. We may need to explore new ways of being church. We may need to find what are being called “Fresh Expressions” of church. We may even discover that we already have some fresh expressions of church happening here.

The question still remains, how do we get across to people what God means in our lives? John knew Jesus because the Spirit remained on him. And that same spirit is given to us. It remains with us, strengthening, guiding and leading us on to experience more and more of God. We in turn share it with others.

About your own call, you wouldn't be a part of the church if you weren't called. So know that you can make a difference and do something about it. Share with others what God is like, what God has done in your life. Live out your calling. And do not worry about how to do it. God will provide the words. God will provide the way. Amen.

The Baptism of the Lord, Year A

2011-01-08T10:12:00.003-05:00

Reflections in the Water

Readings: Isaiah 42:1-9; Psalm 29; Acts 10:34-43; Matthew 3:13-17

The season of Epiphany which we have entered takes its name from the Greek word ephiphania which was used by the Greeks to explain the visit of a god to earth. As Christians for us the season celebrates how Jesus becomes known to us as the Son of God. It is about how God is revealed to humanity. These Sundays during the season of Epiphany show the divine power of our Lord in some of his most striking miracles. All are ways in which God makes God's self known to humanity.

Today the readings centre on the baptism of our Lord as he enters into his time of public ministry. We hear the story of Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan River. It is a story that celebrates who Jesus is. Jesus, the sinless one, is baptized by John in a baptism of repentance. For the Jews a baptism was a ritual washing. For the Greeks baptism meant literally to wash. John was ritually washing people to demonstrate that a change was taking place in their lives. For Jesus it was a call to ministry that changed the whole meaning and role of the rite. As he comes up out of the water the heavens are opened, the spirit of God descends like a dove and lights on him. Those present hear the voice of God announcing, “This is my Son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Jesus is revealed as God’s chosen one. It is, if you wish, his ordination, the beginning of his earthly ministry.

This Sunday is not simply a celebration of who Jesus is. It is a celebration for each of us, for baptism is our ordination, the beginning of our ministry. In our Lord’s life, his offer of himself for baptism was followed by his full commitment to ministry. In the excitement of the day as we celebrate baptism, particularly the baptism of a baby, we often forget that it must always be followed by commitment. We see it more as a rite of passage, as a time of naming rather than as full membership in the body of Christ. We need to affirm baptismal ministry by living out our faith in every sense of the word. We need times of re covenanting, reminders of our baptismal promises. That is why at every baptism there is an opportunity to renew our covenant. Even though we have no baptism today, the renewal of our baptismal covenant will be part of our worship.

So what does it mean to celebrate baptism? The heart of the Christian faith means that by baptism each of us is brought into intimate relationship with a loving Lord. The simple fact is that I am God's beloved daughter. You are God's beloved son or daughter. It is for each of us to claim that and to live in the joy and confidence of it.

There is something very special about baptism. Something miraculous happens! I sense it in every baptism that I do. It is about realizing as I say the words, “I baptise you” that this person now belongs to God in a special way. When I hold a baby in my arms and pour water over the child's forehead, I share in the hopes and dreams of the parents who have brought the child for baptism. I have no way of knowing what the future holds, but I know that this particular child is in the hands of a loving God.

I see the reflected in the waters of baptism some of the children I have baptised. I remember my first baptism. I was working as a Chaplain in a Toronto Hospital during my studies at Trinity. I was on call one night when I was paged from the ward I was working in, the neonatal unit. I knew what that meant. In fact, it was what I had suspected. A mother had gone into early labour and had delivered a tiny preemie, scarcely the size of my hand. She was not expected to live. The family wanted her to be baptized. I found a basin and some water. I baptized her there with her family gathered around her. “Katie Harper Hall” they told me when I asked her name. I remember the feeling of awe as I looked around the room at those gathered for her baptism. I named her, choking back my own tears. I sprinkled water over her, baptizing her in the name of God, the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. It was a sacred moment in which we all shared.

I see reflected in the waters of baptism some of the children from my first parish. There was a set of twins from Bequia adopted by one of the parish families. There was the baby girl who sang as I held her in my arms.

I see reflected in the waters of baptism many people from this parish. There is Jack. He was old enough to participate in a meaningful way in preparing for his baptism. I told him that I would sign him with the sign of the cross using holy oil and that that sign would stay with him throughout his life. He asked me several times after that if I could still see the sign of the cross on his forehead. Many of the children who have been baptised here continue to participate as full members of the body of Christ. They come to our Sunday School. They are servers at the altar. They are living out their Baptismal Covenant.

I see reflected in the water of the font, adult baptisms that have taken place. There is something so inspiring about an adult baptism. It is a joyful celebration that recognizes the transformation that takes place in our lives as we come to faith and accept it as our own. A wise woman named Corrie Ten Boom told me when I was just a child, “God has no grandchildren”. I did not fully understand what it was she was saying to me. That came later as I realized that just because my parents were believers did not mean that I was. It was something I needed to accept for myself.

Even though it is normative to baptise infants, there still comes a time when each of us is called on to accept the responsibility that comes with serving God. That is why adult baptisms are such special occasions. They are not being baptised as is sometimes the case with infants simply as a formality, as something that parents have “done” to their children. They are responding to God’s call. They are recognizing the longing in their hearts. They are feeling that need to belong, to be a child of God.

I see my own reflection in the waters of baptism as well. I know the story of that day, both from my parents and from my godparents. I certainly do not remember the event. I was a little over a month old. What I do know is that something extraordinary in my life took place that day in that small church in Byng. It was the most important day of my life. The fact that I am baptized fills me with sheer wonder. To know that God has received me as a God’s child is a source of endless joy. That day I became a member of the Body of Christ. It was the beginning of a life long journey of discovery about God, but also about myself. It amazes me to think that God says about me, “Here is another one of my beloved children”.

So what difference has your baptism made in your life? There are consequences to baptism. We are redeemed and reconciled by the Spirit. We are called to follow Jesus. We have the task of being light to the nations, of opening blind eyes, of bringing prisoners out of bondage, of feeding and clothing the poor and hungry. We are called to serve God. We are called to be Christ in a broken and needy world.

That brings me to the final reflection in the waters of the font. For reflected there in all of his risen glory, I see the face of Christ. Amen.

Epiphany 2011

2010-12-31T15:42:00.001-05:00

Our Light Has Come

Readings: Isaiah 60:1-6; Psalm 72:1-14; Ephesians 3:1-12; Matthew 2:1-12

Today we are celebrating the Feast of the Epiphany. The central image for the season is light. The light of God blazes and draws people to it. Light transforms the world into a society of peace and justice. It brings joy in the midst of despair. It gives hope in a world that knows darkness all too well. Epiphany is a joyous celebration that recognizes that God’s light shines out for the whole of humanity.

What comfort it is to see even the smallest flicker of light when you are wandering in darkness. How terrifying it is to live in darkness, whatever the reason for it! When you wander, lost and alone in the darkness, you long for the least glimmer of light. Light brings hope and alleviates fear.

The darkest time I ever remember experiencing was the blackout of the Eastern seaboard back in November of 1965. No one knew why we were experiencing such widespread power failure. There were speculations of course. Some people were certain that there had been a nuclear attack. Others suspected an invasion from another world. People feared some terrible natural disaster. But the most terrifying aspect of the whole ordeal for me was simply finding myself alone in the blackness unable to distinguish anything.

I was in the library at Trinity College studying as I often did back in the stacks. Now the library at Trinity was at that time in the basement of the old building. Even on the brightest day, it was totally dependent on electricity. In the stacks there were not even any windows. So when I say that it became dark, the darkness was total. The library went strangely silent. I waited at my desk for some time thinking that the lights would come back on or that my eyes would get used to it. But nothing changed. Finally I gathered my things together and tried to get my bearings so that I could grope my way to the door.

By this time although I still could see nothing, I could hear the murmuring of other people. I made my way towards the sounds. Then someone thrust out a hand. I took it. I remember how wonderful it felt to be linked to another person. How it gave me courage! How it gave me hope! “Reach out for someone else,” he said. And I reached out in the darkness and another hand grasped mine. We became a human chain, snaking our way towards the door.

But the best sight was yet to come. Before we got to the doorway, we could see a pin prick of light. By the time we reached the staircase, a soft glow was spreading through the building. Some of the students had thought to go into the chapel to find candles to light our way. Fear quickly gave way to laughter as we recognized friends in those gathered there. A prayer was sent up. Peace was restored.

The prophet Isaiah speaks of people being drawn to the light. Isaiah was a trailblazer. “Take heart,” Isaiah says, “for God comes like light in the midst of darkness and transforms the world.” What hope that brought to people who had long been exiled from their homeland! The Israel they had returned to was poor and shabby, a pale shadow of its former greatness. But God, Isaiah assured them, had not abandoned them. New blessings would transform Israel. Isaiah saw his nation possessing such light that others could not help but be drawn to it.

The story of the Magi is a story of being drawn towards the light. The Magi are seekers. They did not just happen to follow the star. They must have been searching for something, for someone. You do not scan the sky night after night unless you are searching. Perhaps they were dissatisfied with their old ways. Perhaps they were hoping for something new. They packed their luggage, saddled their camels, and followed without any hesitation. They blazed a trail toward a new and inclusive society, a trail that lead in new directions, in new ways of relating to God, in new ways of being God's people.

They are searching for Christ without the exact directions. They follow a pinpoint of light in the dark sky. Their story is a struggle – a long journey, a tedious search, manipulation by an power-hungry king. Like the people of Israel they can take heart. For their struggle is rewarded. They find a child filled with possibilities. They offer their finest gifts truly giving of themselves. In true wisdom they allow God to direct their journey as they return home another way.

We too can take heart. We hear the words of the prophet Isaiah in the context of the salvation God offers us in the birth of Christ. We hear clearly the message of the magi that as the best of the world’s wisdom acknowledges Christ. When we follow the light to the place where Jesus was born, when we kneel there in adoration, we place ourselves in the story. The story becomes our story. It becomes the story of the people of Bethlehem. It becomes the story of the children for whom Rachael weeps. It becomes the story of refugees who must flee for their lives. It becomes the story of rulers who are anxious and fear change. It becomes the story of the wise and educated who willingly bring their gifts and talents and offer them to God. In these stories, we hear the pleas of the disadvantaged for a more equitable share of things and are reminded of the darkness in our lives. We are reminded of how we are people who stumble for so many reasons. We come to understand our need for God to illuminate the darkness of our lives.

We come to realize how our churches would be transformed if we thought of ourselves as witnesses to the light of Christ. God’s grace has brought us light, has brought us truth. Is it obvious to the community of Meadowvale that God lives in the midst of our congregation? Are we part of the story? Are we reaching out with the light of Christ into our community? Are we an open and caring community of faith that invites people in to share faith?

Our world would be transformed if we Christians recognized ourselves as witnesses to the light of Christ. For we would be following the star through the streets of our towns and cities, into our work places, parks and malls. We would see the star as it stopped over the veteran, the widow, the immigrant, the young single mom. It would lead us to the man in the wheel chair, the street person with her belongings in a shopping cart, the prostitute, the aboriginal fighting for dignity, the drug addict, the mentally ill. It would lead us to look after a world that needs renewal.

And it would not stop there. For we would be opening our treasures and offering our finest gifts. We would be giving of ourselves to God and to others, because the Christ child would be born in us, not just at Christmas, but every day of our lives. The best of who we are, body, mind and soul, would be offered to God. The best of the world’s wisdom would acknowledge the Christ seen in one another.

As we enter this holy season, this time of renewing our relationship with God, this time of setting out resolutions to take us through the year, may we allow the light of Christ to illuminate the darkness of our lives. Amen.

Christmas Eve

2010-12-23T16:40:00.001-05:00

The Contradictions of Christmas

Readings: Isaiah 9:2-7; Psalm 96; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-20

Tonight we celebrate the cosmic event of some two thousand years ago. A night when the sky opened, a star appeared, angels sang and life was born again. It all came as a surprise, though it had been dreamed and foretold for thousands of years. There are many who come year after year to celebrate this miraculous feast without having any real belief in the story. And let us be honest here! It is an unbelievable story. A Virgin birth, angels, shepherds? It sounds like the ultimate fairy tale.

So what if it is! What if it is just a heart-warming story! Christmas is a time for joyous celebration. There is no doubt about that. It is not something which needs a whole lot of discussion. We see celebrations going on all around us. There are many homes in Canada where no prayers are offered at Christmas, no carols are sung, no nativity stories are told. But there can be few homes where Christmas is not seen as a time for celebration. The secular world may reject our faith perspective. But who can reject the feelings of joy and happiness surrounding Christmas? Who can reject the warm fuzzy image of the baby in the manger?

Happily, such images transform society. And that is good, even if it lasts only a short while. We greet each other in a different way. It is a time to give. It is a time of outreach to the poor and to those in need. The celebration is everywhere. One cannot miss it.
But we Christians seek a deeper meaning in our celebration. Without the truth of the Gospel story the lights, the trees, the carols, the gift giving, all become something else – something very fine, something well intentioned and desirable, but something quite empty. For Christmas has become secularized in a way that leaves out the most important, and the best part.

And the miraculous truth of the story does not lie in facts, in history. The story of Jesus' birth is a story filled with contradictions. His earthly parents, Mary and Joseph had to uproot themselves, and leave their home in Nazareth to go to Bethlehem, several days journey at the best of times. When they arrive there, the few inns to be found are filled to capacity. And so they are led into a stable. And there the baby is born, and they name him Jesus. The Son of God, the bringer of peace, the king, the Saviour, is a baby whose family cannot find accommodation. The child is born in poverty, without a proper roof over his head.

The contradictions continue, for on a hillside outside of Bethlehem some shepherds are watching their flocks that night. These are poor humble folk, despised for their way of life. It is not the kind of occupation you choose for your sons, scarcely the best livelihood. Shepherds are the outcasts of society, not trusted, even scorned. Because of the nature of their work they are not even able to attend synagogue. But they are the ones God chose to hear the message of the angels and to spread the good news.

As darkness falls, they settle down on the hillside with their sheep. They look out over the rolling hills toward the town of Bethlehem, resting but alert. After all, a marauding animal could decimate the flock if they are not awake to protect them. They warm themselves over the fire. The sky is bright with stars. Although it is the middle of the night, there is a glow in the darkness. Colours begin to dance and weave like the Aurora Borealis in the northern sky. Suddenly the whole sky is a blaze of light. The heavenly messengers come to them with great news. “To you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour who is the Messiah, the Lord.” The jubilant song of the angels rings out over the hills. “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favours.”

It is a story of deep contradictions. And yet it is a story of great truth. The truth of the story lies in the fact of our relationship with God. God took a chance with humanity. We received God's most precious gift. Humanity is threatened by goodness. We resist it. We reject kindness and healing. Yet God sent Jesus into that very world. God continues to love, hope, trust, even as we bungle through our mistakes. Don't you wonder what it is that God sees in us?

So once again I ask, what if it is just a wonderful story? There is a deep mystery at the heart of Christmas that makes it a time of transformation. The secular world cannot begin to understand Easter, but it can identify with the homey human scene of a newborn baby, a courageous mother, a faithful husband, poor shepherds and rich kings. It can identify with our need to reach out to the poor and to those in need. So there in that stable, a strange diverse crowd huddles around a baby. Such is the mystery of the Incarnation. It does not simply symbolize. It incarnates, it embodies what we know to be true. God is with us. The story of the birth of Christ is a perfect introduction to his life, death and resurrection. The clear message of Christmas is that God is love. Love came down and dwelt among us. The purpose of the loving act was so that God could reveal to us the nature of the divine. It came about so that we might come to know and love our creator.

It is a message that continues to be shared. Christmas, even if the person celebrating does not call it that, is a time of giving, a time when peoples’ hearts open to those in need, when they give for once of themselves. It is a time when people make an attempt to reconnect with their faith community. Our churches fill up. Even those who do not make it to church take on some of the festive spirit and reach out to others in a spate of generosity. We greet each other in a different way. It is a time to give. It is a time of outreach to the poor and to those in need. The celebration is everywhere. One cannot miss it. And secularized though it may be, the world continues to get the message. And it becomes a better place, even if for a few fleeting moments.

We may look at the story in all of its improbability. We may say, “Is that any way for a king to be born!” Is it even plausible? And yet he was. For Jesus continues to be born in poverty. He continues to live with rejection and betrayal. He continues to be nailed and crowned. He continues to burst through the tomb of death and echo in the souls of those who believe. He continues to be born in us day by day. He continues to call us, his messengers, to share the good news that Christ is born in us.

Fourth Sunday of Advent

2010-12-18T07:54:00.000-05:00

Our Aboriginal Christmas Pageant

This year during Advent we have been following an Aboriginal theme as we begin to educate ourselves about our First Nations people. We have replaced the usual blue candles on our Advent Wreath with yellow, black, red and white to represent the four directions in Aboriginal Spirituality. This Sunday, the children of our parish are presenting a pageant based on Jean de Brebeuf and the Huron Carol, "Twas in the Moon of Wintertime".

The Third Sunday of Advent, Year A

2010-12-10T20:51:00.000-05:00

Living Lives of Generosity and Love

Readings: Isaiah 35:1-10; Magnificat; James 5:7-10; Matthew 11:2-11

My first parish was rural in many aspects when I moved there. People would give me directions to come out to their house for a visit. Drive up through Ashburn. Turn right. You'll see a small blue house on the corner. Turn there. Drive a couple of miles. You'll see an old shed. And so on. They would always end with, “You can’t miss it!” Believe me! That was not always the case.

Now we depend on GPS to get us to our destination. We think somehow because it is computerized that it cannot possibly make a mistake. We will surely find our destination if we simply put the right address into it. We trust it to take us to our destination by the best route. I was meeting a friend at Erin Mills Shopping Centre. Her GPS took her to a small mall on Eglinton. She went into a store to ask she was in the right mall. The woman said, “No! But it's right across the street. You can’t miss it!” But of course, my friend had indeed missed it. By following her GPS instead of her eyes, she missed it entirely.

Living in an age of uncertainty and unrest, a time in society when we worry about the state of the world, about the ecology, about whether there truly is a future, it is easy to miss the signs of hope. We long for the coming of God’s kingdom of Shalom. We look for signs of the activity of God in our daily lives. We look for signs of healing. But somehow we are not attuned to God. We are unable to look beyond our own limitations for signs of the activity of God in history.

But take heart! For John the Baptist, the one of whom Jesus says, “among those born of women no one has arisen greater than he,” missed all the signs of Jesus' coming.

John was in prison. What he heard about Jesus from the confines of his prison cell prompted him to ask some serious questions. He had an inkling that Jesus was the long awaited Messiah, but doubts kept creeping in. This Jesus with his urban approach, wandering through the towns and villages preaching good news to the poor, the needy, the outcast presents a totally different perspective to John. After all, he is the wild man out in the wilderness, preaching repentance. And so he sends word through his disciples. “Are you the one, or do we wait for another?”

And Jesus sends back word, “Tell John what you hear and see.” John does not understand what is happening. After all, signs of life are difficult to see from behind prison bars. From that perspective, it is so much easier to see death, blindness, disease, and evil. John had announced what Jesus would do. He had dreamed about how God’s power would be shown. He had preached it with fervour. He had shouted at the people, “You brood of vipers!” He was waiting to see what would happen. But it wasn't what he expected. He expected to hear about the axe falling, about retribution, about the overthrowing of the political powers; yet he hears nothing of the sort. Instead of an axe at the root of the tree, there is Jesus healing the sick, cleansing the lepers, raising the dead, preaching the good news of the gospel. It was so far from John's expectations that he could not figure it out.

There is a wonderful Peanuts cartoon of Lucy talking to Charlie Brown. She has convinced Schroeder that her religion is better than his.

“How did you do that?” asks Charlie.

“It was easy!” says Lucy. “I hit him over the head with my lunch pail,”

That was the problem for John the Baptist. He himself expected to be hit over the head, to be judged, to be deemed unworthy. He expected the changes in society to take place through retribution. His mission was to prepare the people for disaster.

For Jesus, the mission was quite the opposite. He preached a Gospel of love and generosity. His mission was to do as he was doing, healing the sick, making the blind see and the lame walk, raising the dead. He knew that it was never going to happen by hitting people over the head with a lunch pail. That would never bring them to their senses. That would never get them to accept God. He knew that it was through coming into relationship with a loving God that the kingdom would ushered in.

Isaiah's prophecies are wonderful images of healing and reconciliation. He had a balanced vision of human healing. For him it was not merely physical but was connected also to emotional well being. He trusted that would re-create new life for God's people. Wilderness would be turned into lush farmland and a salvation road could be fashioned where one had been thought impossible. Even humanity would be remade to walk the salvation road singing all the way to Zion itself. Hope, he knew is alive even at times of apparent hopelessness.

Everything about the Christian story teaches that real wholeness, real change comes from within. Rebirth comes from within our hearts, from within our lives and families from within our communities. That is why Jesus’ ministry worked. Those who found themselves in Jesus’ presence were reborn. They were healed. The lame walked, the deaf heard, the dead were raised, the poor heard good news. Change took place in people’s lives, and what a different kind of change it was. Humanity was getting healed.

We all need that kind of healing. Much as it is needed in our communities, so much more it is needed in Aboriginal communities across Canada. They are beginning to defend their identity, their nationhood, their environment. It is a challenge to every one of us, a challenge that we need to take up. They challenge us to be faithful to the treaties we have made. They challenge us to be faithful to the truth rooted in the creation covenant calling every one of us to be stewards of the land. They call us to be open to their sense of spirituality, wondering if we will accept their desire to be both Indian and Christian. They challenge us to understand our need for strong communities where people are open to helping one another.

In the Curriculum the children are studying during Advent there is a story of how Santa came to a small Gitxsan Nation in Northern British Columbia. Many years ago people found that as older traditions were lost some families became very poor. It was especially noticeable at Christmas. They decided as a community to make certain that every child in the village received a present.

The parents spent much of the year raising money for the event. The children were encouraged to write a letter to Santa saying what they would like. The parents travelled to another town to purchase gifts.

They planned a Christmas concert. Each day throughout December the children practiced songs and skits, and of course, a pageant. Everyone in the village came to the celebration, dressed in their very best clothes. The children performed. Then Santa came in with presents. He called each child by name. Everyone received a gift.

It was a time of great excitement. To this day, every child in the village receives a gift at Christmas because long ago, someone cared and a new tradition was started. The people of the village have gotten to know one another, to care for one another. It has transformed that community into a place of love and generosity.

Advent is a time of renewal and transformation in the Church year. It is a time to be spiritually prepared for Christmas. It is a time for the wilderness to be brought to new life. There are many people who need that kind of transformation in their lives. We need to go where Jesus goes. We need to do what Jesus does – serving, healing, helping, and sharing out in the world. We need to live lives of generosity and love.

Our task during this Advent season is to let Christ come more fully into our lives. It is to share with others the joy of his presence by our concern for the suffering and the poor. It is to embrace this wilderness time and use it as a time to grow spiritually so that the wilderness rejoices and blossoms. It is to embrace the good news that God’s kingdom of shalom is breaking in, that change is taking place and that humanity is getting healed. It is to live our lives in Christ. It is to see Christ in those we meet. It is to prepare the way of the Lord.

The Second Sunday of Advent, Year A

2010-12-03T15:46:00.000-05:00

Peace and Justice Makers

Readings: Isaiah 11:1-10; Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19; Romans 15:4-13; Matthew 3:1-12

Isaiah was a visionary. The times were scarcely ideal. The kingdom of Judah where he lived was under threat, and yet he managed to maintain a Utopian vision of what God was going to bring about for the people of Israel. And so he prophesied. “A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse.” Isaiah sees someone coming through whom God will work in history. It will not be a political Messiah, but a righteous one who takes a moral stance against all the evils of society. Then follows his beautiful image of an ideal world. “The wolf shall live with the lamb. The leopard shall lie down with the kid. And a little child shall lead them.” There will be such a sense of reconciliation with nature that the whole created order will live in harmony. The coming age will be so peaceful that all will wander in safety. God's judgement will permeate the entire world. People will not need to fear because they will understand and trust that God’s judgement is just.

Paul too is a visionary. When he looked at it from his perspective as a Christian, he found great hope in that message of Isaiah. He understood Christ as that root of Jesse. He saw the purpose of Scripture as giving us hope. Hope, he knew, is the great gift of faith. Even in the darkest days of his life, times when he was imprisoned for the faith, he experienced such great hope. He was able to hold fast to that faith because he understood that God’s love is demonstrated in Christ. He may not always have felt it, but if he could find praise in his heart, then hope, he knew, would manifest itself.

Who could possibly doubt that John the Baptist was a visionary? However, with his wild appearance, his strange clothing and fiery message of repentance, he was certainly a frightening character. Like Isaiah he lived in troubled times. However, his words are far from hopeful; they are words of deep challenge. There was no shoot springing up to life for John. Instead he saw the axe lying at the root of the trees. Destroy the roots and there is no hope that the tree will survive. He was writing off the world. His message was, “You will not escape the retribution that is coming.”

John was not speaking to terrible people who had perpetrated unspeakable atrocities. The “brood of vipers” were good, upstanding, synagogue attending folk who had followed this wild man into the wilderness seeking spiritual renewal. Let us face it! You would have to be very hungry for God to do that, especially when you get the response they got from this fiery preacher. He did not tell them to go and pray. He did not tell them to offer sacrifices. “Repent! Change your lifestyle,” he demanded of them. “That is the only way to escape God’s retribution!”

While these three visionaries had very different approaches, all three are peacemakers. All three are justice makers. All three call out to us from time and place urging us to bring about the kingdom of God. They call out to us to change our hearts and to change our world.

During this Advent season we are celebrating the heritage of our Aboriginal peoples. I have to say that it is not one of finer moments as Canadians. The Aboriginal name for North America was Turtle Island. In many ways it fit Isaiah’s vision of a peaceful realm where all walked in safety. Before the arrival of the Europeans, Turtle Island was home to millions of people living in thousands of distinct societies. There were fishing, hunting and farming societies, each with its own distinct institutions, its own language, culture and traditions. These nations cooperated with one another. They resolved disputes as they arose.

Diverse as they were, First Peoples shared things in common. Their relationship to the Land defined who they were. All of their needs, food, clothing, shelter, culture, spirituality, came from the land. They took seriously their collective responsibility to serve the land, not as owners, but as stewards.

Then the Europeans came and claimed the land from the First Peoples. They set themselves up as discoverers of North America. They made treaties that gave them ownership of the land, something that would never have occurred to the Aboriginals.

More and more the Europeans devised ways of taking the land from the Aboriginal peoples. Some was taken in war. Some was stolen outright by the government who wrote laws to enable them to do so. They even resorted to killing. Whole nations of people were wiped out.

British policy was to assimilate. Part of that assimilation took the form of removing Aboriginal children from their communities and placing them in church-run boarding schools, often far from their home communities. I taught in one such school on the east coast of James Bay. We were told as young teachers that our job was to teach the children to become white. We were discouraged from learning their language and culture. The children themselves were punished for speaking in their native language. Having arrived at the school at the age of five many of the children never saw their families again until they left the school after grade seven. You can imagine the irreparable loss to those families. Whole generations lost what it means to be a family. They lost their parenting skills. And of course, we have heard the stories of abuse, sexual, physical, and cultural, that have led to the largest class action suit in Canadian history.

We do not have to look far for examples of evil at work in the world. To understand the preaching of John the Baptist we only have to take a look at the bad people in our world – the deranged, the wicked, the evil, and then look inside ourselves at how we have fallen short of the glory of God. The thing is that when we consider our own culpability in the scheme of things we can come up feeling pretty good about ourselves. We can look back at the history of our Aboriginal people and simply pass it off as part of the culture of the day. I have heard the Residential Schools likened to an English Boarding School. Or I have heard people say, “That is just the way things were!” Countless times I have heard that Aboriginal people bring their poverty and hardship on themselves. No wonder we cannot see the relevance for us in the message of John the Baptist! The deeds that disturb John are not the works of darkness, of people who never go to church, who know nothing of the faith. They are the self-destructive behaviours of those who do. “Demonstrate to me,” he is saying, “that you really are repentant.” Ask for God’s forgiveness. Stop cheating in your business dealings. Reconcile with someone you haven’t spoken to in twenty years. Take your commitment to God seriously. Look after the poor and those in need. Be an agent of justice and peace. Give evidence that you have really changed your life.

And isn’t that the way that we will arrive at Isaiah’s vision of hope? What an amazing vision! “The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them.” God’s kingdom of shalom will be achieved.

Reconciliation with nature and trust among power structures are within the realm of possibility. We can do something to redress the evil that was perpetrated on our Aboriginal Peoples. We can share with them their vision of God’s amazing creation and our place in it as stewards. There are many signs of hope in the world today. We do not have to have a vision of destruction. We are not helpless spectators. We are stewards and instruments of God. We are in relationship with God. We are part of the process of redemption.

It begins, of course, with an understanding of our own contribution to the evil that we see in the world. We need to recognize the sinfulness in our own lives. And we need to come before God and seek God’s forgiveness. The wonderful thing about it is that we have a God who wants so badly to forgive.

We cannot fathom the wickedness that is in the world. We cannot fathom what possessed our ancestors to treat the People of the Land in such a terrible way. But we do know the secrets of our own hearts and our need for forgiveness.

Let us hear those words of John speaking to us across the ages. “Repent! Change your lifestyle! Demonstrate in your lives that you really are repentant.” That is what Advent is calling us to do. Let us commit our lives to God knowing the power of Christ to forgive. Let us reflect that power to forgive in our own dealings. Let us reflect the love of Christ in our lives. Let us seek the love of Christ in everyone we meet. Then we will be participating in the ushering in of God’s peaceable kingdom. Shalom!

An Advent Calendar from Trinity Wall Street

2010-11-29T11:23:00.002-05:00

The First Sunday of Advent, Year A

2010-11-27T09:02:00.002-05:00

As we enter a new Church year, our Lay Pastoral Associate is preaching. So I am off this morning to our bazaar.

The Reign of Christ, Year C

2010-11-19T22:14:00.000-05:00

The Upside!

Readings: Jeremiah 23:1-6; Canticle 19; Colossians 1:11-20; Luke 23:33-43

Following a turbulent marriage, Joni Mitchell meditates on life in a song.

“I've looked at clouds from both sides now,
From up and down and still somehow,
It's cloud's illusions I recall,
I really don't know clouds at all”

In the song she admits that it is not only clouds, but life that she doesn’t really know. Her whole world is turned upside down. Nothing is the way it should be.

I am certain that we all resonate with her on many levels. I know that in my own life there have been times when nothing seemed to be going right. I would look up at the sky and see only dark clouds, even when the sun was shining. And yet I knew, even at my lowest times, that God loved me. I knew that God was there even when I could not sense God’s presence.

When it comes to faith, things often seem to be upside down. Nothing seems to be the way it should be. That is God's way of looking at things. Consider what we Christians believe! God took on human form. God is a king born in a manger. God is a friend of outcasts and sinners. God came to serve rather than to be served. God died on the cross as a common criminal to bring life to humankind.

Isn't that what we are called to reflect on this last Sunday of the Church Year, as we celebrate the reign of Christ? The readings call us to examine what it means that Christ reigns as king. What is the Christian image of kingship? For ours is a king who reigns, not from a throne, but from a cross. And that is certainly looking at it from upside down.

In our humanity, in our hunger for power, we so often get it wrong. Consider for example how often the cross has become a symbol of might rather than a symbol of peace. Christianity came about as a small group of powerless people in the eastern provinces of the Roman Empire. But by the time of Constantine in the fourth century, the church had become integrated into the social system of the same empire that had persecuted it. The Christians who had been persecuted became the persecutors. Constantine became the righteous king through whom God's reign would be established on earth.

In medieval times, Emperors throughout Europe considered themselves to be kings by divine right, representing the fatherhood of God on earth. How many wars have been fought because of that way of thinking? Fought in the name of God with shouts from both sides that "God is on our side"?

As Christians we are called to proclaim a very different view of kingship. In the Old Testament, the prophet Jeremiah is concerned with the quality of those who are in leadership in Israel. In fact, he does not hold a very high opinion of those who are. He makes a pledge to the people of Israel on behalf of God, the ultimate shepherd. God will gather the people back from exile. God will lead them back to Israel where they will enjoy good leadership.

“The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will raise up for David a righteous branch.” As Christians we discern in it a promise of the coming of Jesus who embodies righteousness and offers a vision of justice that stands out in contrast to the reality of the society in which we live. We know that it will come at great price. King Jesus will indeed come, and will sacrifice life itself to give life to the people of God, because in God’s topsy-turvy world death is life.

It is there in the Gospel as well. We proclaim once again the story of the crucifixion. We are reminded by the sign placed on the cross that Jesus is a king. And even as he hangs on the cross there are those who hope that King Jesus will come in power. “Save yourself and us!” one of the criminals shouts out. Isn’t Jesus the longed for Messiah, the one who will address Israel’s hope of liberation? We proclaim it in the Gospel. Jesus marched into the synagogue and overturned the money changers. He announced good news to the poor, to the hungry, to those who mourned. He announced change.

And then in God’s mysterious way, he died on a cross as a common criminal. In God’s upside down world is it the end of power, or the beginning? Jesus was enormously powerful, even from the cross. He spread a revolution of love and grace. Christ the king is a counter image of a life poured out in compassion. That is why two thousand years later we still follow him.

What a different King he is! King Jesus holds out his hands to us. We see the scars and know that Jesus’ suffering and pain was his royal road to us. It was in giving up his life for us that he showed us God’s glory and passionate love. As Christians we are part of God’s upside down world. It is a world where contradictions bear fruit. Like existence, life does not end in death. Rather, death ends in life.

What are the signs that it is happening in our world? What are the signs of resurrection? Because so often all we can see are dark clouds. All we can understand are the illusions. All we experience is the doubts.

It is our ministry as servants of Christ, our bearing Christ to the world that helps us to see and understand life as it is. It begins with each one of us recognizing that we lead by serving. All of us come every day in contact with people in need. And don't think for a moment that it doesn't matter. And don't think for a moment that you don't know what to do. And don't think for a moment that you need special training. Often it is a ministry of compassionate listening which is most needed in a world where no one ever stops or cares. And every one of us can do that. It is in reaching out to others that we accept the servant ministry that reflects our acceptance of Christ as king in our lives.

As our church year comes to a close, we concentrate on the coming of the king. Does that numb us to the suffering about us and to our responsibility in the midst of it all? Or does it inspire us to loving service?

May Christ the King be king of our lives now as he shall be forever. May the truth of Christ's kingship spur us on to living our lives for him and for others.

The Twenty-fifth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 33, Year C

2010-11-13T08:49:00.001-05:00

Finding Grace in an Apocalyptic Age

Readings: Isaiah 65:17-25; Canticle 3; 2 Thessalonians 3:6-13; Luke 21:5-19

“It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.” So begins Dickens' “Tale of Two Cities”. Every age and culture echoes that lament, for every age and culture seems to have its apocalyptic sense. Some greet it with a sense of excitement and joy; most find that is something to be feared. The question for us is how to find grace in an apocalyptic age.

The prophet Isaiah greets the possibility of the end of time with great optimism. “For I am about to create new heavens and a new earth,” he prophecies. It is a poem of great promise. His vision of that new place is idyllic. No more pain! No more suffering! It’s gates will be named joy and gladness. It will be a restoration of Paradise. God will once more be near to the people, so near that they will not even have to ask in prayer. It will simply happen.

The Thessalonians have a very different reaction. They believed that they were living in the end times, that Jesus would come again in their lifetime. Paul knows that many of them are ready to give up. Fear of what the future may hold causes them to opt out of life. Why bother to work if it will all end tomorrow? They are unable or unwilling to live with the kind of uncertainty that often brings with it a sense of hopelessness and meaninglessness. Paul writes to them. “Everyone of every age,” he says, “should contribute to the life of the community.” “You are to remain vigilant. You are to watch for the things that need to be done, and do them!” And is that not simply part of the responsibility of being a member of a family? He is trying to get across that the responsibility for ushering in the kingdom of God belongs to each and every one of them.

For Jesus’ disciples the message is ominous. They are admiring the temple in Jerusalem. It is the same temple that was continuing to be rebuilt at great price following the exile in Babylon. Historians of the time report that the white stonework overlaid in gold glittered so brightly in the sunshine that people were dazzled by the sight. Jesus tells them that the beautiful temple they see before them will not last. It fills them with a sense of foreboding. “What are the signs?” they want to know.
Jesus paints a portrait of a world in great turmoil and conflict. It is a picture of an apocalyptic age. He speaks of wars, of earthquakes, famine and plague very much like our own age. He tells them that it will be a time of testing for the faithful. They will experience persecution, betrayal, hatred and even death. It is a frightening picture. It was frightening to the disciples. It was frightening to the early Christians as they struggled with the persecution they faced. Through every age such stories have continued to frighten people.
What worries you about the future of the world? Is it the apathy you see in people who care so little about the environment that they will throw their garbage wherever it lands? Is it terrorism, or child poverty and homelessness, or the violence in society? As the G-20 meetings in Seoul end, is it that once again the powers in the world have failed to cooperate about the trade and currency issues that caused the 2008 financial crisis, never mind their inability to agree on the ecological problems facing the world?

What worries you about the future of the Church? Some people fear that we have become irrelevant, that we need to change the way we worship and the way we approach God. Some think that we have deviated too far from Scripture. There are many who fear that we will allow issues like Same-Sex blessing to fracture our unity.

What frightens you about your own future? We all face challenges in our family lives. In these difficult economic times people face uncertainty. Job loss, financial stress, health issues … The list goes on.

Jesus’ answer to the disciples was remarkable when you think about it. He called them to persevere in the faith. He recognized that they were living in a time of terrible threat; yet it was too, as such times always are, a time of deep rewards and rich promise. They are to continue to trust in God’s promises and live in hope. They are to be part of God’s plan as they await the coming of the Kingdom.
I trust that it puts our own faith into perspective as well. It is not up to us to make claims about special knowledge when it comes to the signs of the end of time. It is up to us to remain faithful to the message of salvation and to be obedient to the teachings of Jesus. It is up to us to live out our lives in faith, being like Christ.
So perhaps the question we need to ask is what excites you about the world in which we live? What excites you most about the future of the church? Those are the real signs of the kingdom of God breaking through. I find it so amazing to look back at the changes that have taken place in this particular community of faith over the past ten years. I see such hope in our life together. We have a diverse community that is representative of the rich cultural diversity of Mississauga. We have people who give of their time, talent and treasure to ensure that we are able to reach out into the community. We encourage one another in the faith and in our personal lives. We offer a place of peace and comfort. We reach out to those in need. We are responding to God’s call.
It is a call is to follow Jesus, to be like Christ, to seek Christ in those we encounter in our lives, to be Christ in the world. So what if we stop wondering when the weeping will cease, and start to do something constructive about the state of the world? We live with anxiety and uncertainty, but it is also a time of great rewards and benefits.

Discipleship is not about waiting for God to do something; it is about anticipating God’s actions in the world. It is about being Christ in the world. It is about serving with compassion and mercy. What will you do today in anticipation of the fulfillment of God’s promises? It is ultimately up to each one of us. It begins with putting our trust in our loving God. It continues with living our lives faithfully and prayerfully. It means especially living out God’s promises in everything we do.

24th Sunday after Pentecost, Year C, Proper 32

2010-11-05T20:02:00.003-04:00

Remembering

Readings: Haggai 1:15b-2:9; Psalm 98; 2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17; Luke 20:27-38

An Indian Chief named Crowfoot once proclaimed most eloquently, "A little while and I will be gone from among you, whither I cannot tell. From nowhere we come, into nowhere we go. What is life? It is a flash of a firefly in the night. It is a breath of buffalo in the wintertime. It is a little shadow that runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset."

Those are the words of one who has pondered the meaning of life, one who has reflected on his sense of mortality and faced it with wonder and hope. He sees death as an extension of life. Is he not reflecting on a question that we all think about? "What happens after death?" We all think about it, but most of us don’t talk about it. In fact, we avoid talking about it. We don’t even use the word. We say that someone has passed over, or passed away, or my personal favourite, ‘shuffled off this mortal coil’.

One thing is certain, as we travel through life, we are all confronted with the inevitability of death. We must all face it, difficult as it may be to look at. We fear what is beyond our experience. A friend of mine once described it to me this way. "It is like looking at the sun. You look and then you look away." It causes us to question. It makes us uneasy and fearful. We don't like to talk about it, even, or especially when we know someone is dying. And yet I think perhaps the most tragically lonely way to die must be when one is unable to talk about the experience because there is no one ready to listen.

I experienced that with my father when he was dying. He shared with me that no one would talk about what he was experiencing. I said that I would. We began to talk about the whole process of dying. Just then my sister, a nurse by profession, entered the room. She immediately changed the subject. He said to me, “See! I told you.” I let him know that our conversation wasn’t over. It was some of the best sharing I ever had with him.

As we celebrate the Feast of All Soul's and Remembrance Sunday, that question about what happens after death comes to the forefront. What we really want to know is what is life all about? What has happened to those I love who have gone before? How can I walk in paths that lead to life, now and eternally? What is my place in the whole scheme of things? Such questions are important, in fact, basic to our existence. It is probably the most universal question known to humanity. People of all ages and in every culture ask it. If you question whether or not it is relevant to the average person, you need only consider the number of books that have been written about near death experience and about the afterlife.

It is a universal question because death touches each one of us. How is it possible to wipe away our first childhood experience of death? How can we forget when it invades our family circle taking away one we love? As we approach Remembrance Day, how can we forget the obscenity of war with the death and destruction it causes? I find it especially poignant as we hear of more and more casualities of the war in Afghanistan. We have a whole new generation of Veterans to remind us of those who have died serving their country.

The questions arise from the uncertainty of the world in which we live, a world where war and violence still exist, where people die unnecessarily. But I wonder if the real questions are the deeper existential issues, the issues with which philosophers have grappled throughout the ages. "Why are we here?" "What is life all about?" "Is there purpose to our existence?" Hopefully an underlying concern is "How should I live my life?" Many want to have reassurance. "I'm not certain I can buy into this religious stuff,” they seem to be saying, “but ... just the same, I want to cover all the bases. How can I make sure about what is to come? That I'm in on it?" This is all part of what we are doing today as we remember those dear to us who have died and as we remember those who have died in war. I see it reflected in the readings for today.

The exiles returning from Babylon certainly questioned their existence. They come back to find total destruction; Jerusalem has been turned to rubble. They begin the task of rebuilding the city. Yet it is a city that most of them have never seen before. They have lived their whole lives in exile, dreaming for the day they would be ‘home’ yet knowing nothing of that place. They have no memory of its former glory.   Not only that, it is a period of terrible drought. Money and resources are in short supply. The constant barrage from enemies hampers progress. They question their very existence. The job grinds to a halt. Through it all, the prophet Haggai maintains his sense of vision of what is possible if they trust God. He assures them that they are not alone, that God is with them as they persevere. Of course, his prophecy did come true. The temple in Jerusalem was restored even beyond its former glory. It became a true memorial to those who were not able to return.

Paul has a similar situation with the people of Thessalonica. Life has been difficult for them. It is not a temple that they need to build, but a community of faith. Rumours about the end times abound. Such rumours are always frightening. They cause us to examine the fragility of our lives. They remind us that death comes to all of us. For these early Christians there is always a sense of hope, for they have been taught that before the end times come, Jesus will return. The hope keeps coming to them that they will be spared death through some special intervention; Christ will return during their lifetime. They look for miracles. They look for an end to the misery and hardship around them. Yet time passes. Hope begins to dwindle; the rumours become more prevalent. Paul reminds them that God has chosen them, that they are part of God's purpose. It is a reassurance and also a challenge as they come to terms with their part in God's plan of salvation.

The Gospel begins with an argument about the resurrection. Although the intention of the Sadducees is to entrap Jesus, concern with the afterlife is certainly behind their question. They did not believe in the resurrection. If you don't believe that there is anything to look forward to after this life, then those deep concerns about what does happen become even greater. And so they ask that convoluted question about whose wife the woman will be in the afterlife. Despite its underlying agenda, Jesus answers it in a very pastoral way. What he says in effect is that all life consists in friendship with God. Nothing less is worthy of the name of life. Death in no way severs that relationship. It merely puts an end to physical existence. Relationship is eternal. People may lose their friend by death, but not God. It ends with a wonderful affirmation.

“He is God, not of the dead, but of the living; for to him all of them are alive.” What reassuring words those are! Christ involves himself in human life. He offers an eternal quality of life, not a quality that begins after death, but one that carries us through all of life. It begins when we look at life through our Lord’s eyes, when we try to reflect in our lives what we see in his, when we see how his birth, life, death and resurrection offer us a lens through which we come to see meaning in our human experience.

Today we remember those who have died, but are alive in Christ. We celebrate their lives of faith. We remember everything in which they were great. I invite you if you have not already done so to prayerfully light a candle as a memorial for those who have died having touched your life. On this Remembrance Sunday let us lift up also those who died in the great wars and those who continue to die in service to their country. Let it be more than just words. Let us be mindful of our need to be advocates for peace and justice everywhere and for all people.

The 14th Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 22, Year C

2010-08-28T08:03:00.001-04:00

Where Shall I Sit?

Readings: Jer 2:4-13; Psalm 81:1, 10-16; Heb 13:1-8, 15-16; Luke 3 14:1, 7-14

Some party guest Jesus is! He is invited for the Sabbath meal at the home of a Pharisee, obviously of high standing in the community. His first act on arriving is to heal a man. Remember! It is the Sabbath! To add insult to injury, on seeing the raised eyebrows and silent looks of disapproval at his action, he puts the host’s guests on the spot. He has noticed them vying for the place of honour at the dinner party. Who is going to sit nearest the head table? Who will catch the eye of the hosts? At last everyone is seated. They are waiting for some pleasantries from the host. Instead they hear the voice of Jesus, calm but authoritative, as he reminds them of their manners.

“When you are invited to a party,” he tells them, “don’t demand the best place. Take the lowest place. Otherwise when someone really important comes along you may find that you have lost your spot. Wait to be invited to come to the head table,” he tells them. Jesus is certainly recalling his vision of God’s realm where the last will be first and the first last.

How embarrassed they must have felt as they heard the truth of Jesus’ words! How resentful! How furious! Wouldn’t you love to hear the conversation as they made their way home? “What a radical that Jesus is!” I can hear them saying. “Who gave him the right to judge us?”

And as if that isn’t enough, he then takes on the host. He contradicts the ‘me first’ attitude of his guests. “When you have a dinner party, don’t invite important people simply to get repaid. Invite the poor and the needy. Invite the ones who cannot repay you. Invite the ones who really need it.” How angry the host must have felt! Here you invite a guest into your home, you wine and dine him, and then he turns on you and calls you a hypocrite.

So what are we to make of this story? After all, it is addressed to a very different culture with very different ideas of good manners. Is Jesus touting himself as the Amy Vanderbilt of Jerusalem? Is he giving advice on how to behave in polite company? What are we with our 21st Century mores to make of this story? Does it have any bearing at all in our lives.

There is much in this story that speaks to the kind of society in which we live. Ads and marketing strategies lead us to strive for the best items. We want the latest fads. We wouldn't be caught dead in anything less than designer labels. We want our children to go to the right schools.

While Jesus is speaking to a different culture, there is still some of the same thinking even within the Christian church. Where do people in our churches seek honour? It isn't unknown for someone to actually switch churches to be amongst people who can help them get ahead in business. Within many churches there is a ‘pecking’ order. In one parish in which I was serving, an elderly parishioner came in a little late one Sunday. The procession was already forming in the narthex. She came back out and confronted me. “A family is sitting in my pew!”

“The church is rather full today,” I said to her, and then turned to one of the sidespeople and asked them to help her find a seat. The service began. As I walked up the aisle behind the choir I realized that she was sitting alone in “her” pew. An entire family new to the parish had been moved to chairs at the back of the church. That was her place of honour. She was not about to give it up to these newcomers.

We are called as Christians to hold on to the higher values that are so easily lost in time and society. It is true of all times, but most particularly, I suspect of our own. It is startling to hear that message speaking so clearly to us from scripture. There is Jesus, friend of outcasts and sinners, reminding us that love of God and love of neighbour transcend any other law.

The same concerns are voiced in the other readings. Jeremiah questions the values and standards of his society. Like Jesus, he is either very courageous or really crazy. He begins by challenging the priests for not pressing the people to follow the faith. He then challenges the lawyers for the way they handle the law. He takes on the politicians for their lack of action. Finally he goes after the other prophets of his day. He makes enemies in every sector of society. I suspect that if one is going to truly transform society then it is a necessary step in making change.

In our own society as in that of Jeremiah we see the erosion of long-held values and beliefs. Social norms concerning family and community have changed. Consider the impact of infrastructures like the web on society. We now live in a global economy where a few individuals control most of the world’s wealth. Nations are financially interdependent. We live in a society that is dependent on consumerism. We need to ask the question that Jeremiah was asking. “Are these new ‘gods’ really viable, or are they ‘no gods’?

It is a question that the writer of the letter to the Hebrews may very well have been asking. He offers a list of what it means to live the way God wants us to. He lists the essentials for living in community; mutual love, hospitality, remembering those in prison and those being tortured, holding marriage in honour, being content with what you have, remembering your leaders, and finally doing good and sharing what you have. It is a practical list, far more about our actions and behaviour as Christians than it is about our faith.

It gives us a pretty clear picture of what life in a Christian community should be like. It should be a community where there is empathy one towards another. We need to support one another in faith. We need to be a welcoming and caring community. We need to understand that while wealth is not wrong, to reduce life and love and loyalty to money considerations is. Material things can become gods for us until they are ‘no gods’.

All of this strikes home about our hypocritical society. Jeremiah is not simply speaking about the people of Israel spurning the generosity of God and pursuing worthless goals. Jesus is not just a radical voice speaking out against the Pharisees and their hypocrisy. These are contemporary voices speaking to us across the ages about the way we live. Like the Hebrews we need radical guidelines about how to live as Christians in a secular world. Are we taking the best seats in the banquet hall while the rest of humanity goes uninvited?

Well! You may say to me. That is why we pay taxes. We are caring for the sick and the poor, the crippled and the blind. How much are we willing to lift the barriers that prohibit the poor of our communities and the world from sharing all the benefits that we enjoy?

Jesus, friend of outcasts and sinners, offers justice which goes far beyond the demands of society. It is a gospel that turns the tables on the actions of the most just person in society. We see such a call displayed in the lives of modern day saints like Jean Vanier of the L'arche community where mentally challenged adults lead productive lives in an open and inclusive community. We see it in work done on our behalf in our community. The workers at the Dam are advocates for marginalized youth in our area. How privileged we are to have that kind of ministry going on at our very doorstep! There is the Eden Community Foodbank, which we support with our donations.

What about our own work in the community? What do we do to invest in relationships and causes that are not self-serving? How open is our church? Are we welcoming? Are we just as welcoming to those in need as we are to those who have much? Are we welcoming to everybody? What issues of justice should we as a faith community be tackling? Are there homeless in our midst? Are there those who go hungry? What of the refugees in our community? What are their needs? Are we welcoming of people regardless of their sexual orientation? How do we deal with the issues that our beloved Anglican Church faces? How do we become advocates of change?

The worst thing we can do is to think that we cannot be agents of change, that we cannot do anything about it. We can respond to the needs of others with the same generosity with which God deals with us. We can be the ones who volunteer time and talent on behalf of the marginalized. We can be the calm, authoritative voice of Jesus at the dinner party naming the hypocrisy of our society. As one person quite rightly pointed out, “When we are loved by a loving Creator then it really doesn’t matter where we sit, or even if we have a chair.”

The 10th Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 18, Year C

2010-07-30T17:59:00.001-04:00

When Does Need Become Greed

Readings: Hosea 11:1-11; Psalm 107:1-9, 43; Col 3:1-11; Luke 12:13-21

Ours is a very materialistic age. We want bigger and better homes so that we fill them with “stuff” and it is far more about what we want than what we need. Every once in a while we go on cleaning spree. We sort into what we can sell or give away. The rest we throw away only to buy more things to fill the void.

Thomas Merton known primarily for his more than seventy books, was a Trappist monk. He was preparing to leave his monastery in Kentucky to live alone. It had taken him some time to convince his abbot that living the life of a hermit was the right thing for him. Then on top of that there was the ordeal of moving. He describes it in his diary. It was a time of emptying of closets, of cleaning out of files and of leaving items behind. Many useful things he gave away. Some things he burned – the kinds of things that accumulate but have no purpose in your life. As he lit the fire and then watched all that “stuff” burn up, he experienced a deep sense of liberation. In the ashes, he left behind his past and began to start his new life.

In contrast there was an article a few years back about Oprah Winfrey. In the course of the interview it came out that although she is one of the wealthiest women in the world, yet she feels insecure about her future. She worries that she does not have enough. She worries that she will lose everything and become poor again. It says so much to me about the current attitude in our society. As North Americans we do not seem to know how much is enough. We seem to be far more concerned with our wants than we are with our needs. Materialism has overtaken spirituality. It has become a new religion. We measure success by what we have.

One of the real downsides is that sense of entitlement that is so prevalent amongst young people. “Life is short,” many seem to be saying. “Grab what you can. Get it and get it now.” There are, of course, personal consequences to such a philosophy. Debt! Even bankruptcy! On top of that, the consequences to society, loss of spiritual values, are inestimable.

Yet if you look at Scripture, the problem is not totally new. Just exacerbated by our ability to produce wealth!

A man came to Jesus with a request. “Make my brother share the family inheritance with me,” he demands. Jesus looks behind the request to something deeper. The request, after all, is only a symptom. He could referee the situation and resolve the immediate issue. Nothing would really change. And so Jesus refuses to get embroiled in the argument.

Instead he tells a parable. There is a rich farmer whose land is so prosperous that he has nowhere to store his grain. He does the prudent thing. He builds new and bigger barns. This done, one might imagine that he would sit back and really enjoy life. But no! His sole aim is to amass as much grain as possible. The unthinkable happens. He dies suddenly and without warning.

“What really is the problem?” you may be asking yourself. “It was simply good management on his part. He worked hard his whole life. He made a success of himself. It is tragic that he died before he could really enjoy the benefits of his hard work.”

By telling the story, Jesus is pointing out some important things. Here is a person who is equating material success with spiritual progress. Like so many people, he is saying: “I am prosperous, so God must be blessing me, rewarding me.” He is regarding his possessions as the ultimate measure and value of his life. Possessions are not in and of themselves evil. They could be used responsibly and become a blessing to society in so many ways. They could do so much good. But if building up his empire is the end goal, then it has impoverished him spiritually.

Like Oprah, he is worrying that he does not have enough. What should be worrying him is whether or not he is becoming the person God intends him to be. He should be asking who he is.

It is a vivid parable, not about an evil person, but about a foolish one. There is no problem with looking working hard. There is no problem in being prudent. There is no problem in being successful. It is good planning. It is common sense. But we need to continually ask ourselves at what cost we are prosperous? At what cost has it come to my life? At what cost has it come to my country? At what cost has it come to the world? Who is suffering for my success? And then we need to do something about it. There is a danger in becoming too materialistic. It is tragic when things take precedence over God and spiritual values. How do we refocus, put things into their proper perspective, so that we do not lose out on divine meaning and purpose and its order and joy in our lives?

That makes it a very contemporary problem. As Canadians we enjoy the best that this world has to offer. In the whole scheme of things we may not consider ourselves to be wealthy. But who of us in this parish does not have enough? And let us be honest about what is enough. Enough to put food on the table! Enough to clothe ourselves! Enough to provide shelter for our families! Enough to educate ourselves! Enough to keep ourselves healthy! Enough to share! Even enough to dream!

What we cannot allow to happen is for the dreams to take over lives. When does ‘need’ become ‘greed’? It is when we begin to see our wants as needs that we are in peril of losing ourselves. Then we are in peril of losing our spiritual connection to God. We are “storing up treasures for ourselves but are not rich toward God”.

So how do we ensure that we are “rich toward God”? What would our parish life be like if we were truly “rich toward God”? We are not a wealthy congregation. At least, that is what we seem to like to tell ourselves. Consider the riches of the members of this congregation. We have gifts and talents beyond measure. We have beautiful children and young people who bring such life and excitement into our worship. We have readers who bring the Word of God alive. We have lay readers who help to beautify our liturgies. And we have people who give faithfully of their treasures. Otherwise we would not be able to open our doors.

But we could do so much more! What riches do we bring to our local community? What do we bring in terms of knowledge, of income, of time? How can our gifts be used for the benefit of others? How are our gifts used to spread the message of the gospel?

We enjoy the abundance of God’s grace. Yet often we live as if we are impoverished. Let us, as a congregation, invest our time, our talents and our treasures wisely. Let us use our wealth to build up God’s realm. Let us be “rich toward God”!

The 5th Sunday after Pentecost, Year C (Proper 14)

2010-07-01T12:09:00.002-04:00

Leaving Your Baggage Behind

Readings: 1 Kings 21:1-3, 17-21; Psalm 5:1-8; Galatians 6:7-18; Luke 10:1-12, 17-20

The message of the gospel this week is that sometimes in life we feel powerless and must seek a power beyond ourselves. We must learn to depend on God’s grace, our need of it, and our need to share it for the empowerment of others and ourselves. A bumper sticker that I saw the other day brought it all home to me. It proclaimed, “When the world ends the one with the most stuff wins!” It caused me to reflect that most of us don’t travel through this world lightly. We carry a great deal of baggage, emotional and otherwise. It is a big learning for most of us to trust that God can meet our needs. As Christians we know that God’s grace is abundantly available to us. We know how much we need that free gift. But to really depend on God’s grace and God’s grace alone, to follow God’s agenda, is contrary to all that our self-reliant society stands for. It is very difficult for us to even acknowledge that we are in need of God’s grace. We are often unaware of the needs of others. We don’t even see our own neediness. It comes from the self-indulgent behaviour that is so prevalent in our modern day society.

If you don’t think we are self-indulgent, simply walk through a mall observing how people react. People these days expect doors to open for them. They walk around with cell phones to their ears, oblivious to the effect they are having on other people. Most of us give little thought to how dependent we are on other people, never mind on God. When we find ourselves in need, it is very difficult to ask for help.

Not that it is unique to our society or era. I suspect it is part of human nature. It comes through loud and clear in that wonderful narrative that we heard in the Old Testament reading. Naaman is the commander of the army of the king of Aram. He is a great man, honoured in his country because of his leadership. This man who possesses great power has to learn the hard lesson that he is human and vulnerable, and that there are other kinds of power beyond his own. He has leprosy, probably not the virulent disease that would have banished him into exile, but difficult all the same for a man of his position to deal with. He tries every cure possible, but nothing works. His wife’s maid, a young woman from Israel, tells him about the prophet Elisha who may be able to cure him. He doesn’t take any chances. He gets a letter to the king of Israel, lots of money and clothing, and sets off for Israel. He arrives with all of his entourage at Elisha’s house. After all that, Elisha doesn’t even come out to see him. Instead he sends a messenger, “Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean.” He might as well have told Naaman to go jump in the lake! Naaman is beyond angry. After all, he wants a performance equal to his self-importance. His pride is deeply wounded. He refuses to do as Elisha has told him.

Once again it is one of his servants who persuades him to come to his senses. “If he had told you to do something difficult, you would have done it.” Finally he is able to hear the good sense of what the servant is saying. He does as Elisha has told him. He immerses himself seven times in the Jordan, and he is made clean.

It is a wonderful story that reminds us of the struggle most of us have in accepting help. It is a wonderful reminder that there are sources of grace other than those we know in our public lives.

Jesus’ disciples too must learn to depend on God’s grace for their needs. Jesus empowers them to go out into the society around them, to share the good news of what they have come to believe and experience. They go out trusting that God will provide. They don’t pack a lunch. They don’t take money – not even an extra pair of sandals. They stay wherever they are welcomed. And they come back filled with stories and experiences of God at work in and through them. They are happy, not because of their new found power, but because they belong to God. They know that the glory belongs to God, not to them. They know that they are utterly dependent on God, and that they can trust God to be there in all of their needs.

How do we learn to be grace-filled people, dependent on God for our needs? How do we put God’s grace into action in our world? For most of us it begins with learning that we need God and that we can depend on God meet our needs. I can certainly think of times in my life when it became abundantly clear to me that I had a share in God’s grace and that God would be there in my needs. It has usually been times when I needed God and made an active decision to trust that God would meet my needs.

When I was studying theology I spent two years in urban ministry. The first year I worked in a Food Bank. Most often my job was at the intake desk. I would interview people and make recommendations for how to help them. The desk was at the entrance to the building. I would watch people walk back and forth in front of the building, sometimes for ten or fifteen minutes before they came in. I wondered what kept them from just coming in. We always helped them. For many people, just to say ‘I need’ was very difficult.

Then I did a course that required a ‘plunge’. To pass we needed to spend a weekend on the streets. “Take no money, no sleeping bag, no food!” we were told. We could sleep outside, or we could find a hostel to stay in. I felt like a lamb amongst wolves. It was a terrifying but life-changing experience! I found myself walking back and forth outside a hostel trying to get up the courage to go inside and ask for a place to stay for the night. It was just so difficult to say, “I need”! When I did I received the help I needed. I learned a great deal about myself that weekend. I learned a great deal about people, about how dependent we are on one another, about how kind we can be; and I learned that I could trust God to take care of me.

We don’t all need to take a ‘plunge’ to learn that God takes care of our needs. We do need to learn to depend on God’s grace. We do need to get rid of some of our baggage. We do need to the grace of God with others. Like the seventy Jesus sent out, we are called to seek out people who will respond. We are to listen to them, to share with them in their pain and their joy. We are to meet their needs. We are to relate to them the gospel message that God loves them and is the answer to their deepest needs. We are called to allow God to work through us. We are called to responsible action, to finding the ways and means that others can know God. We are called to live out the Gospel message in our lives. It is a call to respond in the way we live and work. May we know the urgency of that call! May we respond and live in love as God has called us. Amen.

The 4th Sunday after Pentecost, Year C (Proper 13)

2010-06-26T09:16:00.002-04:00

Setting Our Face Toward Jerusalem

Readings: 2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14; Psalm 77:1-2, 11-20; Galatians 5:1, 13-25; Luke 9:51-62

“When the days drew near for Jesus to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem,” Luke tells us in the Gospel. Those few words say so much. We know the end of the story. We know what Jesus was facing in Jerusalem. He doesn’t want to go, but he knows it is what he must do. It is where God is calling him to be. It is a time of change in his life; it is a time of transition. It is a time in which he must move forward even though he knows the consequences. He looks to God for the strength to sustain him in what he needs to do.

A cousin of mine was known for his speed once he got behind the wheel. He claimed that although he drove well over the speed limit he had never had a ticket. “I drive with my eyes on the rear view mirror!” he bragged. I did not find it particularly reassuring.

I realize that many of us live our lives that way. We are constantly looking back, worrying about past mistakes, unwilling to take a risk, unable sometimes even to grow up and take responsiblity for ourselves. It can affect us in our personal lives. Churches too can be places that get stuck in the past.

The readings this week are an invitation to a new kind of journeying, a new way of setting our face towards Jerusalem. We followers of Jesus are reminded that on life's journey there will be tough choices that require clear vision and determination. There will be choices that require moving forward trusting in God's promises. They are choices that remind us not to keep checking in the rear view mirror.

Elisha is being called by God to bear the prophetic word in place of Elijah. Elijah is the tried and tested past, Elisha, the unknown future. It is difficult to assume that kind of leadership, that kind of responsibility. Elisha wants to cling to the strength, reputation and wisdom of the older man. Elijah knows that he needs to hand over the responsibility to the next generation.

He asks a wonderful question, a question that opens up so many possibilities. "Tell me what I may do for you, before I am taken from you." He knows that Elisha must be ready to act. He must be decisive. He must even risk failure. Elisha asks for the right thing, a double share of Elijah's spirit, the same source of strength that sustains Elijah, strength beyond his own that will assist him in the challenges ahead, Godly strength.

Elijah wisely points out that it is up to him. "If you see me as I am being taken from you, it will be granted you; if not, it will not," he tells him. It is a matter of whether or not he has the capacity within himself to accept the grace of God. And of course, Elisha sees beyond the ordinary to the heart of the matter. His anguished cry is the cry of one being deprived of all he trusts and holds dear. It is a cry of loss, but also a cry of suddenly discovered confidence. The challenge for him is to continue to move forward with that same confidence without looking back. The task for him is to channel God's grace through his own gifts and strengths.

It is not easy to set one's face toward Jerusalem. It is not easy to be a disciple of Christ, to live as Christ would have us live, to be all that God wants us to be. Even Jesus’ own disciples did not always live the life of grace. On the way to Jerusalem, Jesus and his disciples approach a village in Samaria. They are looking for a place to stay. The villagers when they hear that Jesus is headed for Jerusalem refuse to receive them. James and John, not named the sons of thunder for nothing, react with anger. “Lord, shall we call down fire from heaven to burn them up?”

Doesn’t their reaction shock you just a little? Wouldn't you think after all the time they have spent with Jesus that they would have known that it was not his way of doing things, that he was not going to approve of their reaction, that it was not God’s call to them? What they were calling for was not retaliation but a show of power that is nothing short of barbarism. It is the kind of thinking that is behind war, apartheid, homophobia, racism and any number of evils done in the name of God.
We may be shocked by the behaviour of the disciples, yet if we reflect on it, their reaction probably is not all that surprising. In similar circumstances any of us, church going and God fearing people though we may be, people trying to live the Christian life, people trying to answer the call of God, might have reacted in much the same way. All any of us need to do is to look into our hearts to see the truth of this. Are we not constantly surprised, shocked, and humbled at the feelings of anger and resentment that arise in us when we are opposed or threatened?

And yet, the question of punishment did not even occur to Jesus. Even if it had, to punish a whole village for the attitudes of a few would be not only unjust, but beyond reason. Jesus knew that the only thing to do when people refuse to love you is to move on.

There follow a number of meetings between Jesus and some 'wannabe' followers. As they travel along the road, someone comes to Jesus. “I will follow you wherever you go!” he says. He is caught in his emotions. He hasn’t really thought it through. Jesus knows that such emotional decisions come from good intentions but often do not last.

“Foxes have holes, birds have nests; we have nowhere to lay our heads,” Jesus points out to the man. Jesus offers change, transience and insecurity. It is a good idea to know what you are getting into before you take the plunge. We often forget that there is a cost to discipleship. We forget that it is a way that requires commitment. For the way of the Christian is costly and demanding. It promises not softness, but suffering, not comfort, but challenge, not safety, but sacrifice. There is security, joy and abundance, but there is also blood, sweat and tears.

Jesus meets someone along the road. Is it someone he has seen during his ministry? Does he see some possibility in this person? He issues an invitation, “Follow me.”
“First let me go and bury my father,” is the reply. A reasonable request, we may say. Indeed it is a sacred duty. And Jesus answers with perhaps one of the most shocking replies in all of Scripture. “Let the dead bury their own dead!” It shocks our sensibilities. It sounds like fanaticism. It forces us to ask how we respond to God’s call. It challenges family values with a higher claim of allegiance, our allegiance to God. Looking ahead is the stance that God seems to call for and affirm. The call to radical compassion challenges all other calls.

Others on the road overhear the conversation. “I will, but not yet,” they respond. It is a common response, isn’t it? First let me raise my family. Let me get the children through university. Let me get settled in my job and save a little money.
Is it impossible to really be a follower of Jesus? As he writes to the Galatians Paul sets out what it means to choose to follow Christ. He affirms the need to choose between grace and law, between wanting to do something and having to do it. The Galatians were saying that if Christ has set them free from the law then that means they can do whatever they wish. “No!” says Paul. “We are under a new law, the law of love.” That sets us free to become everything that God wants us to be. What a wonderful gift that is, but what a difficult law to keep!

Our parish is in a period of transition. The way ahead is often unclear. There are many unknowns as we discern where God is calling us. We may well be tempted to cling to the past, to what we know. We have overcome so many difficulties. We have a congregation that is committed to the Gospel. We have a caring and compassionate community. We have strong leaders with a clear vision for what this church could be.

It will require persistence in the faith on the part of every one of us. Do we have that willingness to follow Jesus? Do we take the promises of our baptism seriously? Are we willing to live differently? Are we willing to see with eyes of faith, like Elisha, to see beyond the ordinary to where God is leading us? Do we have that sense of radical compassion? Let us set our face toward Jerusalem. God will give us the grace to carry it out. We will have that share of the spirit. We will learn to channel God's grace through our own gifts and strengths. We will become all that we are meant to be, not only in our personal lives, but as the Church. Amen.

The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost, Year C, (Proper 12)

2010-06-18T16:28:00.001-04:00

God Restores Us

Readings: 1 Kings 19:9-14; Psalm 42; Galatians 3:23-29; Luke 8:26-39

Through all of life's hurts and sorrows God is there to restore us. God restores us when we are hurt by others. God restores us when we hurt ourselves. God restores us even when we hurt for no reason. That is the theme that flows through the readings this week. It is a theme that resonates for me as we celebrate National Aboriginal Sunday. Hopefully it resonates with us on a deeply personal level as well.

God restored Elijah. He is on the run. The "Rambo" like prophet had stood up against the ungodly forces of Ahab and Jezebel and had revealed the far greater forces of God over the followers of Baal. But it had not accomplished what he expected. The powers that be had not turned to God, and now Jezebel was out to get him. He feels alone in his struggle, totally alone. He cannot put aside what has happened. He is alone, and he alone is the one able to set things right in Israel. He suddenly loses courage and flees for his life.

It is a familiar story if you really think about it. It is easy when we meet opposition to run as fast and far as we can. We feel defeated and despondent. The whole world is against us. We can become soured or angry by what has happened.

That was how Elijah was feeling. He had reached a point of hopelessness. He sat down under a tree, ready to die. And there in the wilderness God restored him. God took care of him, supplying him with food and drink.

Still Elijah kept running. He hid out in a cave. There God met Elijah. Not as he might have expected, with a great show of power, but in the stillness and quiet, God spoke to him.

“What are you doing here, Elijah?” God asked him. He poured out his complaints. “The whole world is against me. I alone have remained faithful to you. They are out to kill me.” God put things into perspective. He is not alone. He does not have to do it all himself. He needs however, to trust God and let go of the past. Our loving God restores us even when we hurt ourselves.

Our Aboriginal people need restoration. They need redress from the past. They have been hurt by government policies. They have been hurt by the Institutional Church. We as Canadian Anglicans have a great deal to repent of when it comes to Aboriginal rights. Our government made treaties with them as nation to nation. We have not lived up to the intent of those treaties. Instead we removed them from their ancestral lands. In an attempt to assimilate them into 'white' society, we shipped their children off to Residential schools, many run by the Anglican Church, destroying family ties and uprooting generations of people. Many of the schools were places of abuse. Even the good schools were places that deprived the children of their relationship to their family and tribe, to their language and cultural heritage.

Work has been done to restore our Aboriginal people. We are beginning to listen to the stories of abuse, of deprivation, and neglect. Yet Canada has still to sign the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous People. It gives them basic rights that every Canadian should expect and enjoy – health, freedom, work, traditions, representation in government. It outlines their right to an environment that supports their livelihood. Why is our government unwilling to sign the document? Why are we not insisting that they do so? We have a call to right the wrongs of the past and be part of God's plan of restoration.

Stereotypes still abound about our Aboriginal peoples. For the most part we are able to ignore their plight saying that their situation is the same or better than that of other Canadians. This is despite findings by the Auditor General of Canada which highlighted the critical shortage of adequate housing on reserves and findings released by Statistics Canada that point to concerns about health, education, housing and water safety for off-reserve Aboriginals. In fact statistics show that the majority of Canadians blame their poverty on lack of effort rather than circumstances, many citing substance abuse as the greatest factor.

God restores us when we hurt for no reason. What an amazing story of restoration we have in today's Gospel. In the person and work of Jesus God confronts and defeats evil so that a human is set free to live the life God intends him to experience. We may not have the same understanding of evil or of demon possession as is present in this story of the deliverance of the man from Gerasene. However, we can see Jesus present in the life of the demoniac, in the lives of the townspeople, and present in our own lives, restoring us to faith, removing our burdens, setting us free. We can certainly see the need for such restoration in the lives of the mentally ill and those victimized through discrimination.

Some people become legitimately burdened by the cares of life. Life is not always easy. Being a Christian does not guarantee that we will not suffer. Sickness, the death of a loved one, unemployment, marital discord, all the troubles of life that people face, can make them feel alone. Is there a God? If so, is God listening to me? Does God care what is happening to me? Why do I feel so alone in all of this? Hopefully it is evident even in our modern day world that God relieves distress, expels demons, cures illnesses and restores lives.

The man whom Jesus healed was so grateful for his restoration to life that he wanted to accompany Jesus and the disciples on their mission. But Jesus pointed out to him that he had a mission of his own. “Return to your home,” Jesus told him, “and declare how much God has done for you.”

The message from God to Elijah was similar. “What are you doing here?” He left the warmth, the silence, the peace of the cave and went out into the community, no longer feeling as if he was on his own, but knowing that God was present with him and would help him to be the leader he was meant to be.

God has done great things for us in our lives. We need to declare how much God has done for us. We need to share the experience of how God is at work in our lives. Especially we need to be aware of the ministries to which God is calling us. To be advocates to the poor and those in need. To speak for those who cannot speak for themselves. To be Christ for our community. Thanks be to God.

The Third Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 11) Year C

2010-06-11T17:24:00.001-04:00

Spreading the Right Rumours!

Readings: 1 Kings 21:1-10, (11-14), 15-21a; Psalm 5:1-8; Galatians 2:15-21; Luke 7:36-8:3

Rumours! We live with them every day. The internet, it seems, is a great medium for spreading rumours. Well meaning people send you the latest misinformation about how some terrible virus is about to attack your computer. While most rumours that spread over the internet are harmless, some that involved personal attacks particularly on young people have had disastrous consequences, leading even to suicide.

The problem with rumours is that it is difficult to overcome them. They seem to take on a life of their own. Church communities adopt rumours about themselves. Take our congregation for example. When I came here there were a few rumours that this parish had accepted about themselves. “We have a revolving door when it comes to clergy!” I was told. And another big one was, “The bishop says that we are the most unfriendly parish she has ever been in.”

Rumours, it seems, have always found voice, sometimes with dire consequences. Take for example the Old Testament lesson for today. Naboth has a vineyard. It has been in his family for many generations. It is a lovely vineyard right beside the palace of King Ahab. Ahab wants it for his own. He requests to purchase the vineyard from Naboth in exchange for either another vineyard or money. Naboth sees it as belonging to God. He does not believe that he has the right to sell what God has given him. He refuses the offer. Ahab understands, but he still covets it, pouting like some petulant child.

His wife asks him what is wrong. He tells the story, leaving out the rather crucial information that it is Naboth's inheritance. “You're the king,” she says to him. “You should have whatever you want.” She hires some thugs to start a rumour about Naboth that he has cursed God and the king. He is taken out and stoned to death. Ahab's pouting leads to the telling of half truths. That leads to manipulation and finally to plotting, murder and theft. The real hero of the story is Naboth who realized that any power or security that he possessed was a gift from God that he could not afford to sell at any price. It cost him his life.

The gospel is another story about rumours. The rumours are about an unnamed woman. There was a party given by a rich Pharisee in honour of Jesus. While they were reclining around the table, the woman, uninvited, and about whose life there were many rumours, all of them bad, came in and began to wash Jesus' feet with her tears. She dried them with her hair, kissing his feet and pouring precious ointment on them. Simon was appalled that Jesus would allow her to touch him in this way. "Can he be a real prophet," he wonders, "if he does not even recognize what kind of a woman she is."

Even before Simon can give voice to his sentiments Jesus addresses him. He doesn't let the rumours influence him. Rather he sees past the rumours to the real person. He sees her loving nature. “Her sins which were many have been forgiven,” he says. The rumours may be well founded, but it is Simon who needs to learn about God’s love. She already knows. That is what has brought her to Jesus. That is what has prompted her acts of kindness and love. She knows that she is a sinner, but she also knows that God loves her. She knows what it means to be loved. That experience of unconditional love has enabled her to become a loving person.

To love as God loves is the Christian call. It is a call to "do" acts of love. We all know that. But let's face it; most of the time, doing the loving thing does not come easily or naturally. It does not always leave us with warm or peaceful feelings. Truly, it is often the way that requires the most effort to accomplish. It is far easier to find other ways to get people to do as we think they should. Fear, punishment, manipulation, even abusing power come to mind as pretty normal tactics.

Don’t you just hate to hear someone say, “I’m only telling you this out of love”? Or even worse, “God told me to tell you…” You know that the ‘advice’ comes with an expectation that you will not only listen to what is said, but you will change, even if it is based on rumour. How different it is when people do act out of love, for true acts of love are responses to the unconditional love of God. They come from our utter dependence on God who is love.

Most of us put conditions on love. If he weren’t so stubborn … If only she would stop nagging … If only I could get them to clean their rooms …

And truly, we live in a materialistic society where nothing is unconditional. We become suspicious if something is offered to us for free. We ask, “What will it really cost?” And when we look into it, of course, we find that our suspicions are well founded.

Paul knew that God's love was unconditional. He knew that it was not by keeping to the letter of the law that we please God. “How is it possible”, Paul responds, “for a human being to stand before the throne of God, perfection itself, and have any hope of being accepted?” The wonder of it is that we are justified through the grace of God who offers us unconditional love. Forgiveness depends on our faith in God’s compassionate love, and not on how righteous we may strive to be.

It is difficult for us to even conceive of that. How can we be expected to understand a God who loves unconditionally? It isn’t how we experience life. We expect to have to earn our way. And the wonder of it is that God does not accept us on some basis by which we can never be acceptable. God does not listen to the rumours about us and judge us on the basis of what is said about us. God does not grade us with some pass/fail system. God does not expect perfection. We are judged by whether we have loved or not. We are judged by whether we do the loving thing. Because we know God’s love, we know that we are forgiven. Because we know God’s love, we are able to reach out in love to others.

So we need to be able to say for ourselves, “God loves me”, knowing that it is not because we deserve it. It is not because we have earned it. It is not because we are clever. It is not because we are attaining perfection. To be able to say “God loves me” and stop there is the beginning of knowing God’s grace at work in our lives. It is the beginning of knowing that we are forgiven, reconciled people of God. It brings us to the understanding that we are created by a loving God who continues to find us precious and valuable.

That is what the unnamed woman did. She said to herself, “God loves me.” She knew it to be true. And so she did a remarkable thing. She wept, knelt at Jesus feet, anointed them with oil, and wiped his feet with her hair. She became a healing presence.

So the real question for me comes back to the rumours. How do we change the rumours about ourselves. In our personal lives it is about telling ourselves that God loves us. It is about saying it over and over again until we believe it.

We can do it as a community as well. In recent years I have not heard you say that St. Francis has a revolving door. You have pretty much dispelled the myth that you cannot keep a priest. As for being the most unfriendly church in the Diocese, that too is pretty much dispelled. But what other rumours have we adopted along the way? I think there is a rumour in this congregation that we are a poor community that simply survives. I think there is a rumour that we can never grow. I for one do not believe the rumours. I want to start a few of my own. This is the congregation that can open its heart to the community around it. This is the congregation that prays for one another and expects God to answer our prayers. This is the congregation that is diverse and youthful and full of life and joy and peace. This is the congregation that is Christ in Meadowvale.

Believing that God loves us is just the beginning, you know. We are called to share that message with others, to reach out with that same loving spirit. Become a healing presence. See Christ at work in others. Share the love of God with those in need. Pass on that message of love. It is a message that is sorely needed in our world. So let us share that all important rumour. God loves us. Amen

The Second Sunday after Pentecost, Year C (Proper 10)

2010-06-04T13:28:00.001-04:00

God's Compassionate Love

Readings: 1 Kings 17:8-24; Psalm 146; Galatians 1:11-17; Luke 7:11-17

The word of the Lord came to Elijah and he answered immediately. Not an easy thing to do, for in responding to God’s call Elijah is deliberately moving into the heart of enemy territory. It is an area where the religion of Baal has its stronghold. He finds lodging with a widow. Without the support of family, she is one of the most vulnerable in her society. Indeed, this particular widow is no exception. She and her son are on the brink of starvation. It is a Catch 22 situation for her. To help him could put her at great risk. Not to do so will mean starvation for herself and her child.

She takes a chance in helping Elijah, and for many days things go well. There is enough food for the household. They seem to be weathering the storm. Then her son becomes gravely ill and dies. “What have you against me, O man of God?” she rails at him. It is a cry from the depths of the human heart. She has lost her child. She searches for meaning where there is none. She turns on the one who has helped her. It is pain, bereavement, loneliness, fear, all pouring out of her.

And then she turns against God. The real culprit is God. After all, God could have prevented the tragedy. God is the villain. Isn't that our human response? Oh, we may not give voice to it. We may fear that if we do then something even worse may happen. Our faith mistakenly teaches us that God is a God of vengeance who will wreak even worse things on us if we do not toe the line. But she rails. In her anger and fear, she rails against Elijah. She rails against God.

And Elijah acts once again. Not without blaming God himself! But he springs into action. “Let this child's life come back into him again,” he prays fervently. And God answers his heartfelt prayer. The child is revived. Elijah returns him to his mother.

It is a wonderful story of the compassion of our loving God and of our need as the people of God to care for the stranger, the weak and the vulnerable.

Fast forward! Two processions, one entering the town of Nain, one leaving. Entering the town is a large and joyful crowd filled with hope for the future following their charismatic leader. Jesus is becoming known as the healer, as the compassionate one who cares for the sick and the downtrodden. Everywhere he goes a crowd follows. Leaving the town is a somber funeral procession. At the head of the procession is a woman, a widow, who is now burying her only son. For her there is no future, only private memories and regrets.

Here on the edge of town the two processions meet. Silence falls over the crowd as the mourners give voice to human loss and bereavement. Jesus has compassion on the widow. He knows that without her son she faces a bleak future. “Don’t cry!” he says to her. He is not telling her that crying is not a necessary human response to her loss. He is not telling her that she is weak for succumbing to her tears. He is not saying that there is something wrong with her. He is simply saying that there is no need for her to cry.

And then he speaks some words which must have startled the onlookers. “Young man, I say to you, rise!” What happened next must have shocked them even more, for the dead man got up and began to speak to his mother.

We could get into the usual arguments about this healing. We have no way of testing the reality of what might have happened, whether the son really was dead, whether symbolism or legend created the account, whether it emerged in a creative attempt to link Jesus with Elijah. What we do know is that the early Christians believed this account. In the whole scheme of things it did not make a great impact on society. It did make a huge impact in the life of one particular widow whose son was restored to her. It made all the difference in the world. At that moment Jesus becomes the source of new life to a young man and his family. By extension, we need to understand that Jesus is the source of new life to us.

It is certainly evident from Paul's story. His story is an amazing witness to God’s life giving action in the world. He loves to recount the transforming miracle of his conversion. Indeed, it almost sounds like bragging. He remembers the Damascus Road, the blazing light, the crashing fall, his blindness, the voice of God calling out to him. As surely as God gave new life to the dying child held in Elijah’s arms, as surely as Jesus gave new life to the young man outside Nain, so Christ gave new life to Paul. And he rejoices in it.

Let us fast forward once again to our own time. A friend of mine says that the saddest thing she had to do was to sell the family home following the death of her father. It brought home the reality of his death. As she packed up his things, memories welled up in her of shared family times, of her growing up years, and of wonderful family gatherings centered around food and always, she told me, there was music. The thing she remembered most about family events was gathering around the piano to sing.

The sale of the home didn’t go well. The house was in a state of disrepair. The decor was less than up to date. The price had to be dropped several times. It finally sold, but for far less than she had expected. And along with it went her treasury of memories.

Some weeks later she had the opportunity to meet the new owners. Not only were they lovely people, but they had children and grandchildren and a wonderful sense of family. The most astounding thing was that they were a family of musicians.

Now looking back at her reaction to the sale, she reflects, “Who cares about money? If Dad’s home continues to be filled with love, life and music, then it was the perfect sale.”

Our human condition is such that there are many ways in which we can be regarded as dead. Our faith can be dead. Our love can be dead. Our sensitivity, or joy, or hope, or trust can be dead. All that Jesus can say to us is, “I say to you, rise!”

Whatever we want to believe about miracles, they have a definite role within the Christian perspective. This miracle in particular has a powerful message for the way we live out our Christian faith. This is Jesus doing the ministry to which he was called by God. His ministry addressed the real needs of people. He did not simply preach. He lived the gospel. His loving and compassionate actions reached out to those in need in real and tangible ways. That is God's mission for each one of us. God loves humanity. Our mission is to reflect that great love as we reach out to those in need. Our compassion and love can bring about miraculous changes in the lives of those around us.

As surely as God gave new life to the dying child held in Elijah’s arms, as surely as Jesus gave new life to the young man outside Nain, as surely as Christ gave new life to Paul, so God offers new life to us.

So rise, and rejoice in it. Amen.

Trinity Sunday, Year C

2010-05-28T15:51:00.000-04:00

You’ve Got the Power!

Readings: Proverbs 8:22-31; Psalm 8; Romans 5:1-5; John 16:12-15

Life is a journey. Our Christian life is a journey of discovery of the God in whose image we are created. The most wonderful experience a human can have is to capture a glimpse of the mystery of God. That discovery comes about for the Christian by the telling and retelling of the story, of our experience of the God of love, our creator God, the God of compassion.

I know very well that when someone wants to tell me their story, they want to talk. They don't want me to talk. They have a need, as we all do, to tell the story of their particular journey, of their life experience. It is through the telling of our stories that we discover who we are. I suspect that is why teenagers spend so much time texting their friends. It is the age in which they are discovering a new self. How else can they discover it except by telling their story again and again until they are sure they know it? They need to recognize who they are. Not to tell your story relegates you to oblivion.

That is why it is so important for The Christian story to be told. We need to keep telling the story of Jesus over and over again. We need to remember who Jesus is. We need to remember who we are as well, for the gospels are stories about us. In them God interprets the events of our lives. In telling God's story we discover more about our true selves. That is why we celebrate the feast of the Holy Trinity. It is, first and foremost, about our relationship with God. It is about how we come to know God. It is about how we come to know ourselves, we who are made in God's image.

God's story is not static. It is a story in progress, for God is a mystery that keeps unfolding. Our journey through life is about the life long experience of coming to know God in all that great mystery.

The Trinity is a metaphor for how we experience God's presence. The readings are not explicit about the Trinity for the very reason that Scripture is not explicit about the Trinity. Rather the readings allow us to explore our experience of God in our lives.
In the midst of our lives they speak to us of a God who creates us with wisdom and care. In our anguish and trouble, they speak to us of a God who has an active, saving concern for the whole of humankind. In our confusion, they speak to us of a God unlimited by our understanding, totally experienced and wise.

The writer of Proverbs experiences God as Holy Wisdom. He names Wisdom as the first of God's creations. She is an expression of God's creativity, a companion who delights God and participates in the creative process. However far off God may seem to us, we know God's will and ways through the orderly beauty of creation and through holy wisdom. Consider how often in your journey through life you have been astounded by the awesome power of God as you experienced the beauty of nature! Perhaps you have stood as I have looking out across the snow capped Rockies and known God's presence. Or was it in the view of a perfect arc of colour across the sky at the end of a storm? Perhaps it was as you watched the opening of a dewy rose on a summer morning. Did you experience God in a beautiful sunset? Or was it the starry expanse of the night sky that transported you into God's very presence? If so, you were experiencing the creativity of God breathing life into the world.

For Paul even the hardships and adversities of life convince him about the love of God and God's saving grace at work in his life. He knew that the life lived in solidarity with Christ would come to look like Christ's life. He knew that would include the hardships and suffering. He experienced such love through God's grace and such peace in serving the risen Christ that the difficulties and defeats he faced did not drive him into shame. Rather they brought him more in touch with Christ's way. As his relationship with God grew, so he received encouragement in his Spiritual life that brought him even closer to God. For Paul peace and hope were not simply based on the past event of the cross, but were ongoing in his life. The love that he felt coming from God kept flowing in him. The more he allowed himself to be loved by God the more he was freed up to reach out to others in Christian love.

Perhaps you have experienced the mystery of God in the same way that Paul experienced it. Perhaps it happened as you sat by the bedside of a loved one as they lay dying. You may have experienced a closeness to God through your own suffering, through that sense of peace that comes in knowing that we do not suffer alone, that God is with us, carrying us through the most difficult times. Perhaps it was at a time of deep need when an earnest prayer was answered, and you knew that it was God’s presence in your life that made all the difference.

We can also experience the mystery of God in the great joys of life. Perhaps for you it was in the birth of a child, holding that new life in your arms. You may have experienced it in a momentous event in your life, a graduation ceremony, the day of your marriage. Such events help us to understand that God is at work in our lives, that God is present with us.

In the Gospel the disciples learn more about the promise of the Holy Spirit and its active presence in their lives. “When the Spirit of truth comes,” Jesus tells them, “he will guide you into all the truth. The Spirit will declare to you the things that are to come.” That same promise of Jesus is ours as well. It is not a matter of the Holy Spirit giving us insight into the future. That is not ours to know. It is not telling us how to live our lives. But the Holy Spirit should be part of our decision-making. We need to ask God for help and insight. The Spirit gives us the honesty and courage to see the consequences of our actions and remain clear sighted about our decisions. What a practical God we worship!

Perhaps you have found yourself pondering the right move in your life. The way has become clear as you prayed for God’s guidance. Perhaps your reflections and prayers have helped you to face adversity. Perhaps you have experienced a sense of inner joy and peace even though you were not even sure how you were going to overcome some great difficulty in your life. That is the power of the Holy Spirit at work in your life.

There was an ad on television. A woman was explaining to her husband how to get the laundry clean. “You’ve got the power. Now use it,” she says to him. I am saying to you this morning, “You’ve got the power. Now use it.” The Holy Spirit has been given to us. We have the power, not as the world knows power, but as God knows it. This is not the power to destroy or put down or harm; this is the power to discover truth, to create, to heal, to bring light into darkness, to bring beauty into ugliness, goodness into evil, sweetness into bitterness, joy into grief. You’ve got the power of the Holy Spirit indwelling you to bring Christ’s gift of salvation into the world.

That is part of the wonderful mystery of our awesome God. Let us experience God in an endless variety of ways, through worship, study and interaction with all that God has created, and especially in our actions in the world.

Pentecost, Year C

2010-05-21T14:39:00.001-04:00

An Eyewitness Account

Readings: Acts 2:1-21; Psalm 104:25-35; Romans 8:14-17; John 14:8-17, 25-27

"I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever." That is what Jesus told us just before he ascended. “The Spirit of truth will be in you. It was clear to all of us. We knew even as Jesus was speaking to us that we would not be left alone. God’s Spirit would be with us, working in us, helping us in our daily lives. The same spirit that guided Jesus in everything he did would dwell in us. Jesus even thought that we, those he taught, those of us who walked with him during those wonderful days of his ministry in Galilee, he actually thought that we would be able to accomplish even more than he himself had been able to do. He healed the sick. He made the lame walk. I even saw him raise Lazarus from the dead. And he said that we would do even greater things than he himself had done!

We couldn’t even imagine it! We had been so afraid of what would happen to us in those days following his death and Resurrection. And then he would be there, filling the room with that wonderful sense of peace that we had always sensed around him. What a joy it was to see him again, to be with him. We had all hoped that he would never leave again. So when he told us that he was leaving, when we realized we were losing him all over again, it was heartbreaking. But Jesus said that we would be God filled. Even as he was saying it, my heart stirred with anticipation. I know how badly the world is in need of Jesus’ transforming grace. He did so much in the short time he was with us. To be able to continue that work would be wonderful.

Jesus told us to wait for the fulfillment of his words. While we were still grieving his departure from us, still it filled us with such excitement. Small groups of us were gathering whenever we could for prayer and to support one another. We would share the good things that were happening in our lives. We would break bread together as Jesus had taught us. It was not very long afterward, just a few days, actually on the day of Pentecost that the whole community of Christians got together. There must have been fifty of us in one small room. You will never believe what happened next. It started with a roaring sound. Like a rushing wind. It was so loud that it filled the whole house. The house shook with the power of the wind. Then I saw it. It was hovering over Thomas. A flame of fire! Then I noticed that it was not just over Thomas. It was over each one of us. And we were transformed. It was amazing to see. We knew immediately that it was exactly what Jesus had promised. The Holy Spirit had been given to us.

And that is only the beginning. The rest of the story is equally amazing. We felt empowered to leave the safety of our meeting place. We headed out into the streets of Jerusalem. You know we have been afraid to proclaim our beliefs. We have been afraid to say too much about Jesus’ Resurrection. But here we were, speaking to anyone who would listen. The look on peoples' faces as we all poured out of that little house. Then I found myself talking to a man from Mesopotamia. You know how shy I am. And yet there I was talking to a complete stranger about Jesus. And you know what? He could understand what I was saying. He kept saying to me, “You're not Mesopotamian. Where did you learn to speak my language?” I looked around me. All around the square were clusters of people listening to us talking about Jesus. There were people from all over the world. Asia, Pamphylia, Egypt, Lybia. They all understood what we were saying. They all heard the story about Jesus’ death and Resurrection. Some people actually thought we were drunk. I can certainly understand why.

Then Peter got up and preached. You should have heard him. What a powerful sermon it was! He explained that we were not drunk, but that God’s Holy Spirit had filled us, not with new wine, but with the wine of Christ. So many people turned to Christ that day.

But you know, it was not just about that day. It has made such a difference in my life. I simply cannot explain it to you. It is as if all the gifts that I have had my whole life have suddenly come to fruition. I am no longer tongue tied when it comes to sharing my faith. I see the same change in my friends and family. Our little Christian community is growing by leaps and bounds. It is a constant reminder to us that Jesus is alive and victorious. It is an affirmation that God's promises are true.

That is a fictional account of what might have taken place on Pentecost. Pentecost is an important event in the life of every Christian. We all need to find a way to express what happened at Pentecost in our lives. Jesus makes it clear that, just as the Spirit was made available to the disciples, so the Spirit would be with us working in us. We too are called to be enthused with the Spirit, to be God filled.

The experience of Pentecost is about how we begin to express that in our lives. Sometimes there are no words to express what we want to say about God. We grope for the right words. We sit in silence and soak in the beauty of a sunset. We dance. We sing. We pray. We express the Spirit in whatever way is right for us.

Do we really know that the Spirit is in us? The Spirit waits to be released and used as the greatest resource for living that we possess. Pentecost is about the energy and strength that come from being enlivened by God’s Spirit. It is about freedom from fear. It is about releasing us from being tongue tied about the faith. It is about the power to transform lives. It is about celebrating the diverse ways in which God’s Spirit works.

But most of all, it is about doing greater things than Jesus did. “The one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these.” Can we even comprehend that? It is not enough to simply go on thinking that what we do is enough. Jesus healed the sick. He ate and drank with outcasts and sinners. He freed people from bondage.

We all have Spiritual gifts. If we used our gifts as God would have us, they could transform the world. The mark of a gift of God is its ability to transform those it touches. Which gifts can you identify in yourself? Which gifts can you see in others in our community? Reflect for a moment about the gift that is yours. Is it your gift to bring joy or hope to others? Do you have a gift of compassion? Are you one who easily encourages others and brings out the best in them? Do you bear the prophetic word? Do you have a dream for this place? Are you a visionary?

Whatever your gift, I encourage you to name it. Write it down on the piece of paper in your bulletin and place it on the offering plate. No one will read it. It will simply be offered in thanksgiving. Our gifts are the means of transformation for God’s creation. God continues through the Spirit to teach us, to be with us, to bring peace. Amen.

The Feast of the Ascension

2010-05-14T15:21:00.001-04:00

Wait for Power from on High

Readings: Acts 1:1-11; Psalm 47; Ephesians 1:15-23; Luke 24:44-53

We read in the Acts of the Apostles that following the Resurrection Jesus appeared to the disciples many times. He speaks with them about the kingdom of God. While staying with them, he orders them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the promise of the Father.

Waiting is something that we humans do not do well. We can all appreciate how difficult it can be to wait. Remember as children what it was like. “I can hardly wait for my birthday!” we would say, as we anticipated ripping the wrappings off one present after another.

Our feelings, of course, vary according to the circumstances. Fear, anticipation, excitement. There are a lot of people who do not know how to live without excitement, without stimulation. Whether it comes from pleasure or from crisis, they simply thrive on activity. They want to be doing things, solving problems, moving ahead with their plans. They love that rush of adrenalin that gets them moving.

But inevitably there come times when even the most A personality must just wait. The time that exists between one crisis or another, between one activity or another is regarded by many people as dead time, as time that is lost. Even people who are not adrenalin junkies find it difficult to face a period of time in which not much is happening, a period of time in which they must wait for a promise to be fulfilled, for an event that they are looking forward to taking place.

I suspect that is a little of what is behind the disciples’ question of Jesus. “Is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” Isn't it strange that of all the questions they could ask the risen Lord, that is what comes springing to mind? What kind of kingdom are they hoping for? Are they looking for a detached God to suddenly transform history and society? When will they understand that it is they who are to proclaim the Gospel of salvation? They have been witnesses to the resurrection. Yet they are not prepared in any way for his response.

“It is not for you to know the time,” Jesus tells them. And then he offers them a promise, a promise of power from on high. “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you. You will be my witnesses to the ends of the earth.”

It is a huge task he is leaving to them. They are to proclaim the gospel that he has been teaching them. He leaves them as well with a promise that they will be fully equipped to do the job. They simply need to await the fulfillment of the promise. And then he is gone leaving them literally holding the bag.

What must it have been like for them to have to wait? After all, they had done their share of waiting already. Following the death of their beloved leader it was all they could do. They retired to the upper room in fear, almost debilitating fear. And then he was back with them for a time. The sense of fear gave way to trust, to trust in the promises Jesus had made to them. Yet he has reappeared just long enough to say goodbye. Like a dream he leaves no trace of himself except the sense that his presence is real and his absence temporary.

Yet that is not so difficult for us as humans to understand. The stories about the ascension of our Lord say that he is taken up into heaven. While we might question exactly how this happened, nevertheless we understand it emotionally. We know about loss. Loved ones are suddenly taken away from us. Even when someone we love has been ill for a long period of time, that passage from life to death is such a fleeting moment. It fills us with awe. We can hardly believe that the person is gone. Even though we know they are in a better place, even though we express our faith that the person is with God, still it takes our breath away. We get that feeling that they will come walking into the room and everything will simply resume where it left off.

The Feast of the Ascension is very much tied in to our Christian attitude about death and dying. The disciples must face a harsh reality. Jesus is gone. He rose, not simply from the dead, but from the world. He is no longer with them. And yet what hope there is in that reality! For if Jesus rose from the dead and is alive, so too our loved ones who have died are alive in Christ.

The question is, what do we do with a time of waiting? How do we wait? Do we question God continually about the purpose of our waiting? The disciples accepted Jesus’ promise that the whole world would be theirs. “You will be my witnesses to the ends of the earth,” Jesus told them. And they accepted that promise. They trusted in what Jesus told them. And so they waited in expectation for the coming of the Holy Spirit. The waiting this time is different somehow. They head, not for the Upper Room, but for the Temple. They did what Jesus told them to do. They set out to witness knowing that from Jerusalem the gospel would be taken to the ends of the earth.

What we need to remember somehow is that times of waiting are not times of inactivity. They are times of preparing ourselves for what lies ahead. They are times in which we work at what is at hand, at what needs to be done right now, in order to forge the way ahead to the future. Our call as Christians is always to live now in the way God intends us to live. The disciples used the time as an opportunity to pray. They stayed together and they prayed. They prepared themselves for the job Jesus had told them they would do.

That is always a good thing for us as Christians to bear in mind. Prayer is of central importance to us as we seek to do God's will and to seek the fulfillment of God's promises.

Comedian David Brenner tells the story of his graduation from high school. Other classmates received expensive gifts from their parents, trips, cars, new clothes. David’s father reached into his pocket and took out a nickel. “Buy yourself a newspaper. Read every word. Then turn tot eh classified section. Get yourself a job. Get into the world. It’s all yours,” he said to him. And he was right. He gave David, not instant gratification, but the opportunity to wait and see what life had in store.

There are times both in our own lives and in the life of the church when we need to withdraw. There are times when we are in need of spiritual renewal. We need to take time to pause and reflect on our purpose as a worshipping community. We need time to wait and pray. This time in the church year can be such an opportunity. That poses difficulties for us, living as we do in a society which is geared to results. Like David's classmates, we judge the gift by its value right now. We are not ready to wait and allow God's gift to come to us in God's time. We find it impossible to fathom that God could possibly be working in us and through us even as we wait. We forget that although the Spirit came to be with the Church forever, we must still constantly pray, “Come, Holy Spirit”. The gift of the Spirit is a promise, not an assured prayer. And so we pray, “Come, Holy Spirit and renew the face of the whole earth.”

We pray it knowing that we are the disciples of Christ, authorized and commissioned to continue the ministry of the suffering, resurrected and reigning Lord Jesus Christ in our world today. We are enabled by the Spirit to do the task. God continues to carry out God’s purpose in our church in the community and in the world. Amen

The Sixth Sunday of Easter, Year C

2010-05-08T09:15:00.000-04:00

Removing the “Unlesses”

Readings: Acts 16:9-15; Psalm 67; Revelation 21:10,22-21:5; John 14:23-29

What a mess the early church really was! There was little organization and no control. Anything and everything could and did happen. As with any new sect it usually arose because of the over enthusiastic fervour of the adherents. There were those in the early history of the church whose enthusiasm for the faith had them rushing headlong into disaster. Couple that with their belief that the coming of the kingdom was imminent. That gave them a sense of urgency that made them less than diplomatic in their care and concern of others. They used the claims of truth as they perceived it to justify abuse. Paul could be as vicious in his defence of the fledgling faith as he had been in his zealotry to guard the sanctity of the Jewish faith. It is not surprising that things became totally conflicted.

The early church faced some serious difficulties. The early Christians were Jewish. To be a Jew meant more than simply religious affiliation. It involved every aspect of Jewish life. Judaism is not an evangelical faith. They do not proselytize. One is not converted to Judaism. One is born a Jew. One is a Jew, not primarily by faith, but by nationality. That was the main problem for the early Christians as they tried to maintain their allegiance to Judaism and live out the Christian faith at the same time. How could they remain faithful to their Jewish roots and still open up the faith to include the gentile world?

And so they came up with a way. "Unless you are circumcised according to the custom of Moses," they told the new converts, "you cannot be saved." Always beware of a statement that begins with "unless". Anything that begins with the word "unless" is bound to pose problems. Because what "unlesses" do, is to exclude. This particular "unless" excluded the new converts, quite emphatically. For circumcision was abhorrent to the Greek world. And as you can well imagine, the debate grew quite heated.

It took a gathering of the early Church, a kind of Synod, to deal with the mess. Paul and Barnabas were sent back to try to rectify their previous failures. It was a turning point for the Church. Had Paul not stayed with his failures he would never have lived out his vision for the Church. People like Lydia, the first convert in Macedonia would never have been converted to Christianity. He would never have had the impact on the Christian faith that he had. Had the mission of Judas and Barnabas not taken place the changes that made it a universal faith would never have happened It was a decision to make a great change, one that affected Christianity for all times. It laid out the essentials, not for the faith. Those essentials were laid out by the teachings of Jesus, but the essentials of what it meant to live the Christian life. And those were simple. The new converts were to abstain from eating idol meat and from fornication. Period.

It is difficult for us to even begin to comprehend how drastic a change that was. It went against culture, against tradition, against religion, and probably for them against all reason. I can only imagine the kinds of arguments that took place. Every aspect of life changed for them, so much so that it would ultimately cut them off from their very roots.

Yet think of the implications for us if they had not been open to such change. Their openness allowed Christianity to become a world religion, instead of a tiny sect. In all likelihood we would not be here worshipping today if they had not made such a move.

As Church, we often make a mess of things. Hopefully we have learned the lesson of the early Christians. Hopefully we go back and try to clean up after ourselves. What are the "unlesses" that we come up with in the church today? Inclusion is a lesson that we continue to learn. The church continues to clarify its role in a changing society. We certainly see the results within our own denomination. As a teenager, I had a strong sense of vocation, but I certainly did not voice any such thoughts. I didn't even voice the opinion that I ought to be allowed to be a server at the altar. When I got my first position as an organist I was told what a great achievement that was for a young woman. After all, the organ was in the sanctuary.

We can be proud as Anglicans that we have such a sense of unity through diversity. We can be proud of the inroads we have made in addressing problems of gender, of culture, of class, of race. But I am not certain that we see the importance of such issues. We are quick to argue that it does not affect us. That it does not matter. But such issues are at the root of the faith. They are issues of justice. And over and over again in Scripture, it is justice which brings about the kingdom of shalom, God's kingdom. And isn't that what we want?

That vision of shalom, that vision of peace that Jesus spoke about to the disciples, that peace not as the world gives it, but as God sees it, is almost impossible for us to comprehend. John the Divine captures it in his wonderful vision of the Holy City. His vision articulates the perfect society, a society completed by God, a society where our vision and God's vision are one and the same. A society where there is no temple. There is no need of such a place, for all places are set aside as God's. All life has become a temple of the presence of God. The glory of God lights the city. Its gates are open. There is no night there. No poverty, no hatred, no injustice, no oppression, no intolerance, no inequality. A kingdom of shalom, of perfect peace.

There is a long road ahead of us before we come even close to that vision of John's perfect society. A large part of it depends on our ability to see the injustice of our actions and to change, to remove the "unlesses". If that kingdom of shalom is to be a reality, then we must be clear about our response to God. It is through loving God, and allowing the Spirit to work through us, that we will begin to know the peace of Christ.

This year's FaithWorks campaign has a wonderful theme. We pray it at the end of every Eucharist. It comes from Paul's letter to the Ephesians. “Glory to God, whose power working in us can do more than we can ask or imagine.” That prayer has a profound effect on me every time I say it. It reminds me that I am not alone on this faith journey. I am part of an amazing community of faith that reaches back throughout the history of the Christian Church and forward to the coming of God's kingdom.

We have so much uncertainty to face in our parish life during this coming year. It is a time in our life to seize that prayer, to pray it meaning every word. As we deal with the challenge of taking on new responsibilities within the Church Centre let us not forget that we are here to minister to our community. We may be tempted to let FaithWorks slide. We may be tempted to look after our own needs. Let us see the opportunities that lie ahead of us, opportunities to reach out to those around us, to offer sanctuary and a place of peace amidst the noise and bustle of the world, to give help and solace to those in need, to see Christ in those we meet.

Glory to God!

The Fifth Sunday of Easter, Year C

2010-04-30T17:29:00.001-04:00

Love One Another

For the Christian, faith is measured by its ability to love. That is the message of the gospel reading for today. It is a good reminder to each of us of our human need for love.

We have heard many times the call to love God and love neighbour. The law, the eternal commandment, calls the community to love neighbour as self. "When you love your neighbour," wrote Kierkegaard, one of the great theologians of the church, "then you resemble God." To love one's neighbour, is to love, not because we have similar interests, to love, not because we are members of the same family, to love, not because we live next door to someone, but to love because we are part of God's humanity. As part of the human family, we are loved. We love because we are called to be like God and God loves.

But, as difficult as this may be to live out, the new commandment of Jesus to love goes far beyond even that.

The gospel passage begins with the departure of Judas. He is about to betray Jesus. Jesus knows that from this point on there is no turning back. The outcome is inevitable. He is going to die. What follows is in effect, a farewell speech.

To those who have been close to him through this time of ministry, he says: "I give you a new commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you." It is a new law that demands that we love, not as ourselves, but better than ourselves. It demands that we die for our friends. It is a law of sacrificial love. The kind of love which is lived out only in community by the care we have for one another. The commandment of love within the Christian community is not a rule to live by. It is a gift of the risen and glorified Christ. It is enacted by the community in the breaking of bread and in loving service to one another. It is the fulfillment of our baptismal covenant.

When I was a child growing up in downtown Toronto, there was an elderly woman who lived at the corner of our street, just a few houses away. The children in our neighbourhood were afraid of her. There were stories about how the house was haunted. We would walk on the other side of the street to avoid getting too close.
It is true that she was rather eccentric. She lived alone. She stayed much to herself. She loved to spend time in her garden. And it was a truly beautiful place. I would see her out there early on summer mornings, watering the garden. She always played classical music as she worked. Being a lover of such music, I longed to talk to her about it. One day very early in the morning, so that none of my friends would know, I got up enough courage to visit her. I talked to her from the sidewalk, a safe distance away. She told me that flowers enjoyed good music. And who am I to doubt? Her garden was certainly the most beautiful in the neighbourhood.

Our early morning talks grew over the years and I began to drop in on her in a more formal way. She enjoyed our chats and always had cookies and milk for me. She took to giving me little gifts – one time a note pad, another an old Girl's Almanac. Then one day she gave me a beautiful cameo brooch. When I showed my mother what she had given me, she said that I couldn't keep it. It was too expensive a gift. I was to take it back. I did so rather reluctantly. When I handed it to her, she simply put it aside. I will never forget what she said. "Things are nothing. They are just doorways to people."
There was a deep truth in what she said. What we experienced from each other was a mutual love for one another, love that went beyond love of neighbour. It was a love that allowed me to see Christ in her and overcome all the barriers and fears that society put in place.

The kind of love Jesus spoke about calls us to generosity. It is a giving, not of material goods, but of oneself. It is sacrificial giving. Not many are called to the ultimate sacrifice. But we are all called to sacrificial love. God’s grace is free; love, on the other hand, is costly.

It requires a commitment to a spirit of giving. It is something we experience and live. It is lived out in community by the care we have, one for another. That is why love is the mark of the Christian.

St. Teresa of Avila, one of the great mystics of the church, put it this way. "Let everyone understand that real love of God does not consist of tear-shedding, nor in that sweetness and tenderness for which usually we long, just because they console us, but in serving God in justice, fortitude of soul, and humility."

How do we show that kind of sacrificial love? Do we show it in the respect we have for the human family? Do we really care for our planet? Do we care for, and nurture others? Do we show it in our values in a society that struggles with issues that devalue human life? Do we show it in our response to the aged, the abused, the hopeless? Who do we love? Whom should we love?

Love clearly has to do with caring for others. If we do not care about others, then no amount of churchgoing, no amount of money, no amount of faith, will give us any cause worth working for. How can we even believe in God if we lack concern for others?

Love is not some sentimental thing. It is shown in our lives by our genuine, sacrificial, Christ-centred love for others. It doesn't come naturally, or all at once. We must be empowered to do it. It begins with us, now, right where we are. Once in a while we are graced enough to recognize it and to come to a sudden, clear recognition of the risen Christ who lives in those we love.

The Fourth Sunday of Easter, Year C

2010-04-23T15:10:00.002-04:00

The Profile of a Christian

A Confirmation class was discussing what being a Christian entailed. They were asked to use certain passages of Scripture to come up with a job description for a want ad to hire a Christian. The final result read something like this.

Wanted: Dedicated and committed Christian to work for the Lord. Must have the following qualities.
- Pray without ceasing
- Be willing to be the servant of all
- Love God with all one's heart and one's neighbour as oneself
- Always put others needs before one's own
- Follow without counting the costs
- Do good deeds
- Perform miracles
- Be kind and compassionate in all one's dealings
- Work for no pay
- Be a good steward

As a follow up they were asked if they would consider such a position themselves. They talked about the drawbacks, but also about what the benefits might be. I suspect that most of us would find many drawbacks and very few benefits if we were to truly take in what the cost of being a Christian should be.

The early Christians struggled with what it meant to be a Christian. Christianity had never been intended to become a new faith. They were Jewish. The link to the synagogue and their Jewish roots was a strong part of their identity. When the Jewish community became hostile toward the new sect, they had to struggle against persecution. They were enthusiastic in their proclamation. They were fervent in their desire to share the gospel message. They understood their vocation. God had clearly called them to continue the earthly work of Christ. They tried always to grow in the image of the one whom they followed. They struggled with their identity as Christians.

Our society can certainly understand the need for identity. It is of the utmost importance to our culture, particularly for young people. It colours the way we think of others. We identify people by the way they speak, by the clothing they wear, or by the colour of their skin. We tend to choose friends who are like us in appearance, in the way they think, in the way they act. It is very difficult to break into a group with an identity differing from one’s own.

What identifies us as Christians? Do we have anything which sets us apart as a community? Do we have a profile? Surely if we consider ourselves to be set apart by God then there should be distinguishing characteristics in our lives, things which set us apart from the world and make being a Christian different.

The readings today give us a sense of the profile of the Christian from the perspective of the early church. The Acts of the Apostles tells the ongoing story of the disciples of Jesus following the resurrection. This time the story centres around Peter. Filled with the Holy Spirit, Peter cannot help but share the Good News of his life and the lives of those around him transformed by the resurrected Christ. Peter and the others continue the work begun by Christ. He is called to Joppa where the community is in mourning following the death of a woman, Tabitha, who spends an enormous amount of time and energy in ministry to those in need. In her own quiet, servant ministry she has had an amazing impact on the Christian community. The women have lovingly brought in tunics and other clothing to display remembering how their lives have been transformed by the compassion and service of this good woman. They offer prayers for each other. They minister to each other.

And then Peter empties the room, approaches her bedside, kneels and prays. It is a simple prayer said in faith. “Tabitha, get up.” Peter's confidence is testimony to the power of God in his life. Hopefully it speaks to the power of the resurrection in the life of the church today, and in our own lives.

The profile continues to build in the passage from the Revelation of John. John was able to look beyond the ragged, frightened band of Christians to what was to come. He saw himself as part of a world-wide community of faith, a countless multitude of believers. He recognized the risen Christ within the earthly community, present amid the trials and tribulations of this world.

The good shepherd passage from the gospel of John with its identification of the characteristics of the Christian gives us a wonderful profile of what it means to be live the Christian life. For one thing we are belongers. “You do not believe because you do not belong,” Jesus says to the people who confront him about who he is. They want to know if he is the Messiah. They want an easy answer. A yes or no. They don’t want to struggle with who he is. They don’t want to take the time to check it out for themselves. They want him to plainly identify who he is so that they can believe. But Jesus tells them clearly that believing is belonging when it comes to one’s relationship with God.

When we belong, it is like being branded. There is stamped on our attitudes, our manners, our personalities, the sign that we are owned by God. That is our belief about baptism. We are signed forever with the sign of the cross. We are branded. We belong to God.
Part of our identity as Christians is that sense of belonging to the community. It is no accident that people come wanting to belong. If ministry is to be effective then there must be a strong sense of community. We may be well organized and efficient as a church. We may have wonderful programs going. But if people are not made welcome and given a sense that they belong, our community will not grow.

Those who belong are listeners. “My sheep hear my voice,” said Jesus. While others in our materialistic society listen for the ring of the cash register, we should be listening for the voice of God. It may be a still small voice. Or God may be heard in the whirlwind, the thunder, and the chaos and catastrophe of our lives. If we are listeners then we will hear the voice of God, soft or loud, communicating with us. Speaking to us through the symbols of our faith. Speaking to us as we come to worship. Speaking to us as we celebrate life. Speaking to us at times of difficulty and despair. Speaking to us through our relationships with others. Speaking to us through our sense of community.

Finally, those who belong are followers. “My sheep hear my voice,” Jesus says, “and they follow me.” Following means serving God. Serving others on God’s behalf. We serve God in our families and in our daily lives. We serve in the community, in the political and economic struggles of our society. We serve wherever lost sheep are struggling to find meaning and purpose in life.

God calls each and everyone of us to loving service. It is the reason God created us. It is the reason we were baptized. It is why we call ourselves Christians. No matter what role we have or what occupation we choose, to be a Christian is our common vocation. Let us allow God to lead is in new directions, to open us up to new ways of worshipping, to respond to a world in need by living our lives of faith. That is how we will become shepherds to others. That is how we will open the doors of faith to those who would know Jesus, the Good Shepherd. That is how we will get on with the work of being the Church in the world. Thanks be to God.

Special Vestry

2010-04-16T15:09:00.001-04:00

We are holding a Special Vestry this Sunday, so I am not posting a sermon.

The Second Sunday of Easter, Year C

2010-04-09T17:03:00.000-04:00

To Believe or Not to Believe

Readings: Acts 5:27-32; Psalm 2; Revelation 1:4-8; John 20:19-31

The passage from the Acts of the Apostles shows the early Christians beginning to leap into action. Peter and the other apostles have had an amazing conversion from the frightened and ragged band of people who scattered in every direction following the crucifixion. They are speaking out about their faith with a sense of total and exuberant conviction. In fact, they feel compelled to speak the truth as they see it. So caught up are they in what they have experienced that these simple fishermen find themselves addressing the council, the religious authorities of the time, learned people.

It was not an easy time for the Jewish faith! What do you do with converts to a new sect who are so totally enthused and filled with purpose! Peter and the apostles are totally swept up in their cause. “We must obey God rather than any human authority,” Peter says to the council. How would that go over at synod? His sense of commitment to the gospel is unswerving and complete. There are consequences to having such a sense of commitment, but he and the others are willing to take the risk. They face persecution. But what has happened to them is so powerful that there are no other options for them. They have witnessed the risen Christ. It is good news that must be proclaimed and shared. Their faith is compelling them to share what they have experienced so that others can also share the experience.

What a different picture it is from this morning’s Gospel! It is evening on the first day of the week. Early that morning a few of the women had come back to the meeting room with a fantastic story to tell the disciples. They had gone to the tomb to prepare Jesus’ body for burial. The stone had been rolled away giving them easy access to the tomb. Two men in shining clothing had asked them why they were looking for someone who was alive in a place set apart for the dead. The women were convinced of Jesus’ resurrection. Yet obviously the story had little impact on the disciples. For there they were that evening sitting in fear in a locked room.

Not until Jesus is there, standing amongst them, are they able to put aside their hysteria and begin to feel that “shalom”, that wonderful sense of the Lord’s peace that he proclaims to them. They have betrayed him. They have run away in fear. They have been unable to believe what the women so quickly accepted. And yet Jesus is there offering peace. Now they see for themselves.

Except for one! Thomas! Ever dubbed 'Doubting Thomas”! But can you really blame him?
Thomas is not one who could not believe, but one who longed to believe. He had seen Jesus destroyed. He is unwilling to trust. For one thing though the disciples tell him with some enthusiasm that they have seen the Lord, they are still sitting safely behind locked doors. It does not make sense to him. There they are with the best news in the world sitting around moping.

If you saw Jesus in all his resurrected glory would you be sitting around moping? Does it make any sense? It is not difficult to believe in Jesus Christ. But it is often difficult to believe that his followers really believe. Maybe if we did less sitting around in church and more talking about Jesus with our friends, they might know that we do actually believe. They might see how faith has changed our lives. They might see that we live out what we believe.

It seems that, because of my chosen profession, whenever I go to a party with my secular friends the topic quickly turns to religion or religion bashing. Often what people want to talk about is the issues of our day. What do I think about abortion? Divorce? Homosexuality? They want to trap me into saying the wrong things.

Sometimes the questions are directly concerned with faith. Mine, not theirs. For most people are quick to point out that they are not “religious”. “I do believe in God, you know,” they love to point out. Or “I believe in God!” And then the clincher, “I don’t believe in organized religion!” For them being religious is a contagious disease. Even my telling them that my religion is totally disorganized doesn’t seem to sway them.

But I have noticed that most people who corner me and want to talk about the faith are searching for something. They are interested in spiritual matters. They have read something controversial and they want to discuss it. What disturbs me most about that is that often the same people who are unable to accept the gospel message, who are quick to point out its irrelevancies, its inconsistencies, are ready to accept as truth what is written about it. For example, they seem to believe that a novel such as the “Da Vinci Code” is fully researched truth. Why is it that so many people are willing to believe a novel but are unable to comprehend the mystery of the Christian faith?

Is it our failure to communicate the message of the gospel? Is it our lack of commitment to the gospel? Do we lack the kind of enthusiasm of Peter and the other leaders of the early church? Are we still sitting behind doors shut for fear? Are we afraid to speak the gospel truth? In what sense does church life show a closed door to the community? Do we reach out to new people? Do we want to open new books and delve into new liturgies and new music? Do we want to hear about the troubling issues of society? Or are the doors of our minds and hearts shut?

Is it simply too difficult to open our hearts and minds to the faith? We see so much around us that bears no resemblance whatsoever to the resurrected Christ. Problems, tragedies, conflicts. How can we come to believe? And after all it is two thousand years since these events took place. Don't you envy Peter and the disciples? After all, they saw the risen Christ. They talked to him. They were challenged by him. “How much easier it would be for me to lose my doubts, to really believe, if only I had walked in Peter's sandals?” I can hear you saying it.

And yet I know that while I often experience doubts there are times in my life when I have been so convinced that Jesus was real that it carried me through. There was the time when I was as low as anyone can get. I had nowhere to turn. Because of an abusive situation I had to walk away from family, friends, everything! It was the only thing I could do. The night I walked away, I ended up in a Roman Catholic Church that happened to be open, praying. A priest saw me there and began to talk to me. He did not really understand my situation, but he listened. He was Christ for me that night. I made the right decision for myself, confronted the demons as it were, and found a safe place to stay until it was safe for me to return home.

We can believe when we hear the stories of resurrected life around us. We can believe when we see how the wounds life brings can be transformed. We can believe when suffering becomes life giving. We can believe when others tell us how they have experienced the power of the risen Christ. We can believe when we accept the grace given to Thomas and to each of us to touch, to see, to feel. Beyond suffering and pain there is a power of life that brings us close to God and lets us speak words of forgiveness that are valid in heaven and on earth. And we may well find ourselves being Christ for someone in need.

Easter, Year C

2010-04-03T09:38:00.000-04:00

It’s Too Good!

Readings: Acts 10:34-43; Psalm 118:14-24; 1 Corinthians 15:19-26; Luke 24:1-12

The women got up early and headed for the tomb. They went despite their fear and apprehension at all that had taken place over the last three days. They went filled with disappointment at what might have been. They went filled with grief at the death of the one they had come to love and trust. But while others had run away in fear, they were drawn to the tomb. They had some unfinished business. Because of the approach of the Sabbath, Jesus’ body had not been properly prepared for burial. They went bringing the spices that they had prepared for that purpose.

They knew what to expect. They had stood at the foot of the cross when the others had fled. They had watched as the life ebbed out of him. When you watch someone die, the reality of death stays with you. They had received his body when the soldiers took him down from the cross. They had lovingly laid him in the tomb and watched, dumbfounded as a huge stone was rolled into place. And yet, they could not help but feel that this dead man was more alive than any of them.

And our God is a God of surprises! When the women arrived at the tomb the stone was rolled away. When they entered the tomb, they did not find Jesus’ body. The tomb was empty.

“Why look for the living among the dead?” they were asked. Why, indeed! He is not in the tomb. He is risen!

And they believed it. They remembered what Jesus had told them. They believed it enough to proclaim it. They went and told the others, “Christ is risen!” And we still echo those words. In the 1920’s Nikolai Bukharin was sent from Moscow to Kiev to address an anti-God rally. For an hour he ridiculed the Christian faith until it seemed that there was nothing left to believe. Then he invited the people to ask questions. An Orthodox priest rose and asked to speak. He turned, faced the people, and gave the Easter greeting, “Christ is risen!” What do you suppose happened? All the people rose to their feet. “He is risen indeed! Alleluia!” they replied, loud and clear.

Belief in the resurrection is the greatest sign that it happened. The women at the tomb saw and believed. It cannot have been easy for them. Faith in the resurrection was risky business for the early Christians. People gossiped about and plotted against those who believed that Jesus rose from the dead. The idea was so absurd and laughable. Christians were ridiculed and shunned, even persecuted for their beliefs. But that did not stop the faithful from spreading the message that Christ indeed was risen from the dead.

It has not stopped in over two thousand years. When asked ‘What do you believe?’ Christians still respond, “Christ is risen!” Today though we live in a world that is often indifferent to faith it is still possible to proclaim, “Christ is risen!” and have millions of people respond, “He is risen indeed! Alleluia!”

What you say yourself in reply to the question is a choice you must make. And you can argue with me and say that you cannot believe because there is not enough evidence, but we believe because we take it on very good authority.

One of my favourite writers, C. S Lewis writes the following about believing. “Believing things ‘on authority’ only means believing them because you have been told them by someone you think trustworthy. Ninety-nine percent of the things you believe are believed on authority. I believe there is such a place as New York. I could not prove by abstract reasoning that there is such a place. I believe it because reliable people have told me so. The ordinary person believes in the solar system, atoms, and the circulation of the blood on authority – because the scientists say so. Every historical statement is believed on authority. None of us has seen the Norman Conquest or the defeat of the Spanish Armada. But we believe them simply because people who did see them have left writings that tell us about them; in fact, on authority. A person who balked at authority in other things, as some people do in religion, would have to be content to know nothing all his life.”

And if it seems too good to be true, look for the signs of resurrection around you. Like the women on that first Easter morning, we frequently find ourselves heading into the tomb, to places and circumstances where we expect only death. It is so difficult to believe in the resurrection when all around us we are experiencing death. There are the environmental issues that the world faces. Is our planet facing extinction? Many people seem to think we cannot possibly do anything about Global warming. We must simply learn to cope with environmental changes. We need to prepare ourselves better for the natural disasters which are inevitable.

Do not assume death in any situation. Expect the possibility that God has been here before you. Even a small rolling away of stones indicates resurrection. People have become more aware of their need for stewardship, of their need to conserve God’s amazing creation. The grass roots take on the responsibilities that governments opt out of.

Are there signs of Resurrection in our community of faith? There certainly are! We have a vision for this parish. We have dedicated leadership that works hard on behalf of this congregation. So many people participate in the life of our parish. We have a strong sense of community. We are meeting our financial obligations. We are a diverse community of faith. That brings so many dimensions to our life together.

Are there signs of Resurrection in people’s lives? Many in this congregation are experiencing difficulties in life. There are those who struggle with employment issues. Relationships can falter. We can experience economic hardships. Once again, do not assume death. Maybe God is taking you in some other direction in your life. Look at what God is doing in your life. Look at where God is leading you.

And at the heart of the resurrection is the one who participated in it, who died for it, and who in a way we will never understand and must accept in faith, moved through death to us to build the kingdom of God in our own lives and in our society and time.

And if the message of Easter is too overwhelming to to believe, consider this little story.

A young boy was an avid fan of both Captain Kangaroo and Mister Rogers. He watched both of their television shows. Then one day it was announced that Mister Rogers would be making a guest appearance on Captain Kangaroo. The little boy was ecstatic. He could hardly wait. He kept asking, “Is it today that Mister Rogers will be on Captain Kangaroo?” Finally the day arrived. The family all gathered around the television. The boy watched for a time and the surprisingly got up and wandered from the room.

His father was puzzled. He followed him and asked, “What is it? Is anything wrong?”

“It’s too good,” the boy replied. “It’s just too good!”

Jesus is not in the tomb! He is risen from the dead. That is the Easter message. And it’s too good!

Alleluia! Christ is risen!