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.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
The Second Sunday of Advent, Year A
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!
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!
Monday, November 29, 2010
Saturday, November 27, 2010
The First Sunday of Advent, Year A
As we enter a new Church year, our Lay Pastoral Associate is preaching. So I am off this morning to our bazaar.
Friday, November 19, 2010
The Reign of Christ, Year C
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.
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.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
The Twenty-fifth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 33, Year C
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.
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.
Friday, November 5, 2010
24th Sunday after Pentecost, Year C, Proper 32
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.
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.
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