Fifth Sunday in Lent
Year B
Readings: Jeremiah 31:31-34; Psalm 51:11-18; Hebrews 5:7-10; John 12:20-33
Jesus is in Jerusalem. There are all kinds of people around him in this Cosmopolitan city. They no doubt hear stories about him. They witness his remarkable deeds. One day some Greeks come to Philip. His name is Greek, after all. “Sir, we would like to see Jesus,” they say to him. Philip doesn’t know quite how to handle it. It is not the simple request that it might seem to us. It is a turning point, a watershed. The Greeks are a far greater danger to the Jewish community than the Romans. They consider the Jewish way of life to be very strange. Their culture in itself is a threat to Jewish belief and lifestyle. Yet here they are, and even more strange, they want to find out more about Jesus.
Most of us, sad to say, even churchgoers, don’t wish to see Jesus. We are too busy! We are busy making ends meet, raising our families, dealing with sickness, and trying to make sense of the terrible things that are going on in our world, We are too busy to even give it a second thought. We get out to church; we may even attend regularly, but somehow it doesn’t make a difference in our lives.
We mourn the decline in the Christian faith; yet we spend far more time grappling with how to close churches than with how to fill them. The so-called 'Generation X' is largely unchurched and sees little need to change that. When they do actually reach out and try to find their way into our churches, they are met with barriers that we have erected. We speak what might as well be a foreign language. There’s the BCP and the BAS and the ACW and PWRDF. We have strange customs; we sit and stand and kneel; we dress up in strange-looking clothing; we may even make the sign of the cross or wear crosses as jewellery around our necks. Our music doesn’t sound anything like what we might hear on the radio. We may even appear to be unfriendly or uncaring. No wonder many see the Church as irrelevant. Even when it comes to the field of ethics, which should certainly be our domain, many no longer look to the Church as leaders in making moral decisions. Most people wouldn’t think of asking to see Jesus. They would be more likely to wonder whether we even know him.
Yet we need to see Jesus more than ever. The mark of our day is alienation. People feel alone, isolated. The family is no longer the strong social unit it once was. Lines of communication so easily break down. Research into family life came up with the statistic that the average couple probably spends between nine and twelve minutes a day in meaningful conversation. Don’t we joke about whom in the family operates the remote control on the TV? We probably consider that it is about who has power in a relationship, but I suspect it is really an indicator of how little we communicate with one another. Far more time is spent in passive activities like watching television than in intimate conversation with one another. If we don’t find time to talk to one another, we certainly don’t find time to talk to God. ‘Pray’, after all, is a four-letter word!
We have lost our sense of community. Our anonymous society locks itself behind closed doors. We have more friends on Facebook than in the real world. Unless you have children or a dog, you probably don’t even know your neighbours. It is easy to say that you love your neighbour if you never have to deal with them. Yet to be human is to seek the strength and support that comes from being part of a community. Companionship is a human need.
The mark of our day may be alienation, but the mark of the Christian Church is community. We gather Sunday by Sunday to break bread together. It is at the heart of what we do. There is a miracle that happens whenever we share our bread or ourselves with others. Bread symbolizes the life of the many who work together to produce it. We are sustained and nurtured by bread. It symbolizes our life, Christ’s body. We are all fed by the same holy bread. We all become that which we eat, the Body of Christ. In the breaking of the bread we see Jesus.
Jeremiah was a prophet during the time leading up to the Babylonian exile. It was a crucial time in the history of the people of Israel. He tried to warn them of impending disaster. They obviously did not want to hear any bad news. They threw him into prison for saying that the Babylonians would defeat them in battle. Even in prison he did not lose hope. He remembered the covenant that God had made with his people; he looked forward to a better time, a time of spiritual renewal, a time when the covenant would be written, not on stone tablets, but in the hearts of the people a time when they would be a real community of faith, when God would "be their God, and they would be God's people."
What a community of faith that would be! Imagine that every member of this congregation is in a deep relationship with God. Can you even imagine what that would mean to this church? This would be a community that trusted in God. It would be a community that lived out its faith in its everyday lives. The community would come together week by week and be fed and nurtured by the Word of God; and then would go out as the Church back to its homes, into the workplace, into its communities, into the world. This would be a community reaching out in faith to a needy world. It would be a community that would see Jesus.
Are there times when Jesus cannot be seen because of the way we present him? Are there times when we are not really looking? Do we want Jesus to fit our preconceived notions of who God is? Our lifestyle? Are we so set in our rigid patterns of worship that we become unintelligible to the uninitiated? Are we so tied to a book or a way of doing things or our own needs that we fail to let someone in to see Christ? Are we so afraid of being the wheat that we live death instead of life? Everything we do as a church is done so that we will see Jesus in our own lives and in the lives of others. It begins as a longing inside our minds and hearts. It becomes a hunger that simply won’t go away. It comes as we journey to the foot of the cross, for we must be willing to see Jesus as the one who died and rose again, the one who accepts and who empowers.
There must be no foreigners when it comes to following Christ. There must be no 'them' and 'us'. We must simply be a welcoming community of faith. When someone comes seeking, we must do what we do in our own homes, open the door and invite them in. If we need to, we must expand the table, add a leaf, lay some more places, find some more chairs, become truly inclusive. But more than that, we must become the kind of community that reaches out beyond itself. We must be sharers of this wonderful faith.
We must seek Christ in others, and let Christ be seen in us. Let us be renewed in the Spirit this Lent.
Open our eyes Lord,
We want to see Jesus.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Friday, March 16, 2012
God's Gift of Love
The Fourth Sunday of Lent
Year B
Readings: Numbers 21:4-9; Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22; Ephesians 2:1-10; John 3:14-21
Many of us studying Theology at Trinity had unique ways of making ends meet. But Helen surely outdid the rest of us. I was always excited to hear that she had received another package. I would meet her for coffee in the Buttery, the cafeteria at Trinity, to hear the latest installment. You see Helen edited Harlequin romances. Prior to that experience, I had always deemed them unworthy of my time, but I must admit some fascination for them after her sharing the odd one with me. In fact, I must admit that many of the stories were touching. There is, after all, something universally appealing about a love story.
Being loved is always a surprise. The very fact that someone chooses to love us is exciting. It supports us in what we do. It gives us new insight into our value as a human. Even when we recognize our self worth, being loved is still a startling experience. "Are we worthy of such devotion?" we wonder. "Will it last?"
It is no wonder then, that being loved by God comes as a great surprise to us. Paul says that we are created in Christ for good works. God has crafted us in God's own image. We are "works of art", part of a great masterpiece crafted by a genius artist. How hard it is to take in just how great that love is! Yet there it is. How much does God love us? God loves us enough to created us. Not one mold, but each unique and wonderful. Each part of God's plan. What love that is! Not some ‘Harlequin Romance’ kind of love, but genuine and real, the kind of love that resulted in something so great that it is beyond our imagination.
"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life." That is an amazing gift of love! A free gift! Love totally unmerited by us! The ultimate example of love! It is the pattern and model of the kind of love that we, as Christians, are called to show in our lives. And it is offered to every one of us.
Lent is a time to reflect on God's great love. Yet love offered is not necessarily love accepted. The suitor can be spurned. We can say yes or no. And yes! There is a personal cost for the gift. Loving always comes at a cost to self. For the love so freely given to us, calls us in turn for us to come into relationship with that loving God, and to reach out in love to our neighbour.
Paul takes every opportunity to help us to understand that salvation is a free gift from God, a love gift. It is not something we have earned. It is not something we deserve. It is grace, freely given. He also emphasizes that, free though it may be, it is not without cost. Opening ourselves to the gift of God's love means that we cannot avoid the experience of the cross. Accepting the gift of God's love means opening ourselves to the possibility of suffering; it also means opening ourselves to the probability of great joy.
We just don't expect that in our lives. When we choose to follow Christ, we expect that it will mean an end to suffering. That it will mean that somehow we have tapped in to a magical way of avoiding anything bad happening. It will all work out like the Harlequin romance where every story has its happy ending.
The people of Israel thought that to follow in God's way would mean an end to suffering and tragedy. They discovered differently. As the time in the wilderness went on and on, they began to see that, just because it's free, does not mean it is without cost. "Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness?" they railed at Moses. "For there is no food and no water, and we detest this miserable food."
What they are saying is that the manna which God has provided, the free gift of God's grace, is not enough. They want more.
Are we ever like that? Do we lose patience on the way to the Promised Land? It simply does not happen fast enough for us. Or the way we expected it to. Aren't we rather prone to wanting instant gratification for our every desire? We don't expect to continue to find ourselves wandering in the desert. We don't expect to meet with any adversity or trouble on the way.
The cross for the Christian is a sign of contradiction. What was once a sign of infamy and disgrace becomes a sign of vulnerability and love, the great love of a great God. The contradiction also arises because it came about through the sacrifice of Christ. It brings about suffering, but without it there can be no resurrection. The cross, a symbol of death, is for the Christian a symbol of resurrection.
"When I am lifted up from the earth,” Jesus says in the Gospel, “I shall draw all people to myself." Moses lifted up the brass serpent in the wilderness, and all those who looked at it were healed. Jesus was lifted up. All who believed were given eternal life. The cross is a call to wholeness in Christ. Belief in the crucified Lord calls us to repentance and healing. It calls us to respond, to respond with love for our neighbour. Not the neighbour I choose to love, not the one whose culture and race match mine, but the one whom God calls me to serve.
My neighbour is the addicted, the perverted, the selfish, the corrupted. My neighbour is the one of another faith. My neighbour is the one person in the parish that I just cannot stand. Our great God, who gave us such amazing love, calls us to extend that love to others. Through service we fulfill our call.
The realization that we are really loved by God is difficult to grasp. Yet the signs of God's love are all around us. The humanity of Christ is God's fullest sign of love for us. That Christ should live and die as one of us is a truly amazing sign. If we believe it, this sign should support, thrill, excite, and re-create us. It should be a constant reminder that we are truly loved.
Year B
Readings: Numbers 21:4-9; Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22; Ephesians 2:1-10; John 3:14-21
Many of us studying Theology at Trinity had unique ways of making ends meet. But Helen surely outdid the rest of us. I was always excited to hear that she had received another package. I would meet her for coffee in the Buttery, the cafeteria at Trinity, to hear the latest installment. You see Helen edited Harlequin romances. Prior to that experience, I had always deemed them unworthy of my time, but I must admit some fascination for them after her sharing the odd one with me. In fact, I must admit that many of the stories were touching. There is, after all, something universally appealing about a love story.
Being loved is always a surprise. The very fact that someone chooses to love us is exciting. It supports us in what we do. It gives us new insight into our value as a human. Even when we recognize our self worth, being loved is still a startling experience. "Are we worthy of such devotion?" we wonder. "Will it last?"
It is no wonder then, that being loved by God comes as a great surprise to us. Paul says that we are created in Christ for good works. God has crafted us in God's own image. We are "works of art", part of a great masterpiece crafted by a genius artist. How hard it is to take in just how great that love is! Yet there it is. How much does God love us? God loves us enough to created us. Not one mold, but each unique and wonderful. Each part of God's plan. What love that is! Not some ‘Harlequin Romance’ kind of love, but genuine and real, the kind of love that resulted in something so great that it is beyond our imagination.
"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life." That is an amazing gift of love! A free gift! Love totally unmerited by us! The ultimate example of love! It is the pattern and model of the kind of love that we, as Christians, are called to show in our lives. And it is offered to every one of us.
Lent is a time to reflect on God's great love. Yet love offered is not necessarily love accepted. The suitor can be spurned. We can say yes or no. And yes! There is a personal cost for the gift. Loving always comes at a cost to self. For the love so freely given to us, calls us in turn for us to come into relationship with that loving God, and to reach out in love to our neighbour.
Paul takes every opportunity to help us to understand that salvation is a free gift from God, a love gift. It is not something we have earned. It is not something we deserve. It is grace, freely given. He also emphasizes that, free though it may be, it is not without cost. Opening ourselves to the gift of God's love means that we cannot avoid the experience of the cross. Accepting the gift of God's love means opening ourselves to the possibility of suffering; it also means opening ourselves to the probability of great joy.
We just don't expect that in our lives. When we choose to follow Christ, we expect that it will mean an end to suffering. That it will mean that somehow we have tapped in to a magical way of avoiding anything bad happening. It will all work out like the Harlequin romance where every story has its happy ending.
The people of Israel thought that to follow in God's way would mean an end to suffering and tragedy. They discovered differently. As the time in the wilderness went on and on, they began to see that, just because it's free, does not mean it is without cost. "Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness?" they railed at Moses. "For there is no food and no water, and we detest this miserable food."
What they are saying is that the manna which God has provided, the free gift of God's grace, is not enough. They want more.
Are we ever like that? Do we lose patience on the way to the Promised Land? It simply does not happen fast enough for us. Or the way we expected it to. Aren't we rather prone to wanting instant gratification for our every desire? We don't expect to continue to find ourselves wandering in the desert. We don't expect to meet with any adversity or trouble on the way.
The cross for the Christian is a sign of contradiction. What was once a sign of infamy and disgrace becomes a sign of vulnerability and love, the great love of a great God. The contradiction also arises because it came about through the sacrifice of Christ. It brings about suffering, but without it there can be no resurrection. The cross, a symbol of death, is for the Christian a symbol of resurrection.
"When I am lifted up from the earth,” Jesus says in the Gospel, “I shall draw all people to myself." Moses lifted up the brass serpent in the wilderness, and all those who looked at it were healed. Jesus was lifted up. All who believed were given eternal life. The cross is a call to wholeness in Christ. Belief in the crucified Lord calls us to repentance and healing. It calls us to respond, to respond with love for our neighbour. Not the neighbour I choose to love, not the one whose culture and race match mine, but the one whom God calls me to serve.
My neighbour is the addicted, the perverted, the selfish, the corrupted. My neighbour is the one of another faith. My neighbour is the one person in the parish that I just cannot stand. Our great God, who gave us such amazing love, calls us to extend that love to others. Through service we fulfill our call.
The realization that we are really loved by God is difficult to grasp. Yet the signs of God's love are all around us. The humanity of Christ is God's fullest sign of love for us. That Christ should live and die as one of us is a truly amazing sign. If we believe it, this sign should support, thrill, excite, and re-create us. It should be a constant reminder that we are truly loved.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Living Passionately
The Third Sunday of Lent
Year B
Readings: Exodus 20:1-17; Psalm 19; 1 Corinthians 1:22-25; John 2:13-22
We are part of a broken world. It is difficult to ignore that fact. We see signs of brokenness all around us. There are places in Africa that have not seen peace in over forty years. The Middle East is a constant hotbed of war. The world faces devastating environmental issues. We cannot open a newspaper without being confronted by stories of injustice and hardship.
The Ten Commandments, God's covenant with Israel, speak to us at every level of human experience. They speak to the individual, to the community, to the nation. They are moral guides to our growth as people who live in communion with one another and all of creation. They cover all aspects of life, but are summarized for the Christian in Jesus’ call to us to love God, and to love neighbour.
If we take the Ten Commandments seriously, and I trust we do, we must surely be asking ourselves some difficult questions about the way we live our lives. What gods do we put before God? Where do we put all of our energies? In placing our energies, do we leave time for God? Are there any discrepancies between what we profess as Christians and how we act towards others? How do we keep Sunday holy when society demands that we work? What injustices do we see going on around us? Are we willing to speak out against them? Are we willing to do something about them? In this consumer society of ours, which causes us to covet from cradle to grave, do we stand up to the desires of the world and put God and neighbour before our own needs? The command to love God and love neighbour makes us responsible for the world in which we live. We are responsible to help those who live in poverty. It is our responsibility to care for the sick, to live in peace, to live out our ministry as servants in a broken world.
The symbol for this third Sunday in our Lenten series is fire. The Hebrews associated God’s presence with fire. Moses describes his first call from God in terms of a flaming bush that did not consume itself. The Israelites were led through the desert by a pillar of fire. As Moses and the Israelites camped at the foot of the mountain, ‘God came down upon Mount Sinai in fire’. God’s presence among the people was like a consuming fire that gathered into itself, uniting while purifying.
For the Christian, fire symbolizes the Spirit of God among us. The Spirit descended as tongues of fire on the assembly at Pentecost. It is a sign of conversion, a symbol of the burning away of the old self. Conversion experiences test us. Something is burned off; what remains is stronger, purer.
Fire gives light. It gives heat and warmth. Fire consumes and transforms, destroys and creates. Fire purifies and refines. Fire describes anger and revenge as well as love and devotion. It is a symbol for living passionately. And Jesus is a model for us of one who lived passionately.
I cannot help but see that in today’s gospel. And yet I admit it. I feel uncomfortable about his anger. That is because I can’t quite understand it. What was his objection? What was he thinking? It was business as usual, a normal day in a busy synagogue at a busy time of the year. Animals and birds were supplied for sacrifice. Foreign currencies had to be exchanged for the temple currency. The very anger of Jesus in doing what he did! It was a deliberate and passionate act of protest. Was he protesting against the power and exploitation of the religious order of the day? That is certainly what it seems to me to be. He seems to be challenging the status quo. And it is bound to get him into trouble.
Jesus’ anger seems foolish. However, what foolishness it is to buy into the nonsense that Jesus the son of a carpenter turned preacher could do any good! Yet it is what I believe as a Christian. What foolishness it is to believe that a God of love reigns over this fractured violence-ridden world of ours; but I cannot help but see the hand of God in this world. What foolishness to believe that God can bring peace where there is enmity. Yet I believe it all passionately. I believe passionately that God can bring about peace. I believe passionately that my fervent prayers along with yours can bring wholeness to our fractured world. I believe that God can change our hardened hearts and help us to live as brothers and sisters.
Fortunately throughout history there have been people passionate enough about the Christian faith to challenge the systems of the Church and the world. It has been said that if Jesus taught us anything it was how to die, not how to kill! Martin Luther King Jr. put it in the following way. "To our most bitter opponents we say: 'we shall match your capacity to inflict suffering by our capacity to endure. We shall meet your physical force with soul force. Do to us what you will, and we shall continue to love you. We shall appeal to your heart and conscience that we shall win you in the process, and our victory will be a double victory.'"
Oscar Romero, the Bishop of El Salvador became bishop because it was thought that he would not challenge the status quo. He had a conversion experience and because of it became a passionate advocate for the poor and underprivileged people of his country. He challenged both the state and his own church. In a sermon preached shortly before being gunned down celebrating the Eucharist in his church he said, "They may kill me, but I shall rise up in the people of San Salvador."
Are we passionate enough to challenge the systems that exist in the Church? Are we passionate enough to challenge the problems that exist in society, the violence, the injustice, the inequality? Are we passionate enough about our world to do our part to bring healing to the environment? Do we believe that it matters? Do we believe that we can make a difference?
These are challenging readings at a challenging time in history. Let us be passionate advocates of peace and justice. Let us be passionate advocates of the environment. Let us be passionate in our love of God and of our neighbour. Amen
Year B
Readings: Exodus 20:1-17; Psalm 19; 1 Corinthians 1:22-25; John 2:13-22
We are part of a broken world. It is difficult to ignore that fact. We see signs of brokenness all around us. There are places in Africa that have not seen peace in over forty years. The Middle East is a constant hotbed of war. The world faces devastating environmental issues. We cannot open a newspaper without being confronted by stories of injustice and hardship.
The Ten Commandments, God's covenant with Israel, speak to us at every level of human experience. They speak to the individual, to the community, to the nation. They are moral guides to our growth as people who live in communion with one another and all of creation. They cover all aspects of life, but are summarized for the Christian in Jesus’ call to us to love God, and to love neighbour.
If we take the Ten Commandments seriously, and I trust we do, we must surely be asking ourselves some difficult questions about the way we live our lives. What gods do we put before God? Where do we put all of our energies? In placing our energies, do we leave time for God? Are there any discrepancies between what we profess as Christians and how we act towards others? How do we keep Sunday holy when society demands that we work? What injustices do we see going on around us? Are we willing to speak out against them? Are we willing to do something about them? In this consumer society of ours, which causes us to covet from cradle to grave, do we stand up to the desires of the world and put God and neighbour before our own needs? The command to love God and love neighbour makes us responsible for the world in which we live. We are responsible to help those who live in poverty. It is our responsibility to care for the sick, to live in peace, to live out our ministry as servants in a broken world.
The symbol for this third Sunday in our Lenten series is fire. The Hebrews associated God’s presence with fire. Moses describes his first call from God in terms of a flaming bush that did not consume itself. The Israelites were led through the desert by a pillar of fire. As Moses and the Israelites camped at the foot of the mountain, ‘God came down upon Mount Sinai in fire’. God’s presence among the people was like a consuming fire that gathered into itself, uniting while purifying.
For the Christian, fire symbolizes the Spirit of God among us. The Spirit descended as tongues of fire on the assembly at Pentecost. It is a sign of conversion, a symbol of the burning away of the old self. Conversion experiences test us. Something is burned off; what remains is stronger, purer.
Fire gives light. It gives heat and warmth. Fire consumes and transforms, destroys and creates. Fire purifies and refines. Fire describes anger and revenge as well as love and devotion. It is a symbol for living passionately. And Jesus is a model for us of one who lived passionately.
I cannot help but see that in today’s gospel. And yet I admit it. I feel uncomfortable about his anger. That is because I can’t quite understand it. What was his objection? What was he thinking? It was business as usual, a normal day in a busy synagogue at a busy time of the year. Animals and birds were supplied for sacrifice. Foreign currencies had to be exchanged for the temple currency. The very anger of Jesus in doing what he did! It was a deliberate and passionate act of protest. Was he protesting against the power and exploitation of the religious order of the day? That is certainly what it seems to me to be. He seems to be challenging the status quo. And it is bound to get him into trouble.
Jesus’ anger seems foolish. However, what foolishness it is to buy into the nonsense that Jesus the son of a carpenter turned preacher could do any good! Yet it is what I believe as a Christian. What foolishness it is to believe that a God of love reigns over this fractured violence-ridden world of ours; but I cannot help but see the hand of God in this world. What foolishness to believe that God can bring peace where there is enmity. Yet I believe it all passionately. I believe passionately that God can bring about peace. I believe passionately that my fervent prayers along with yours can bring wholeness to our fractured world. I believe that God can change our hardened hearts and help us to live as brothers and sisters.
Fortunately throughout history there have been people passionate enough about the Christian faith to challenge the systems of the Church and the world. It has been said that if Jesus taught us anything it was how to die, not how to kill! Martin Luther King Jr. put it in the following way. "To our most bitter opponents we say: 'we shall match your capacity to inflict suffering by our capacity to endure. We shall meet your physical force with soul force. Do to us what you will, and we shall continue to love you. We shall appeal to your heart and conscience that we shall win you in the process, and our victory will be a double victory.'"
Oscar Romero, the Bishop of El Salvador became bishop because it was thought that he would not challenge the status quo. He had a conversion experience and because of it became a passionate advocate for the poor and underprivileged people of his country. He challenged both the state and his own church. In a sermon preached shortly before being gunned down celebrating the Eucharist in his church he said, "They may kill me, but I shall rise up in the people of San Salvador."
Are we passionate enough to challenge the systems that exist in the Church? Are we passionate enough to challenge the problems that exist in society, the violence, the injustice, the inequality? Are we passionate enough about our world to do our part to bring healing to the environment? Do we believe that it matters? Do we believe that we can make a difference?
These are challenging readings at a challenging time in history. Let us be passionate advocates of peace and justice. Let us be passionate advocates of the environment. Let us be passionate in our love of God and of our neighbour. Amen
Friday, March 2, 2012
Salty Faith
The Second Sunday of Lent
Year B
Readings: Genesis 17:1-10, 15-19; Psalm 22:22-31; Romans 4:16-25; Mark 8:31-38
Last week we began a journey from ashes to Easter. Lent always begins with ashes as a powerful reminder of our need for repentance. Last Sunday, the symbol of water reminded us of the new beginning we made as we entered the waters of baptism. Today we add the symbol of salt.
Consider its purpose. It brings out the flavour of food. It was literally worth its weight in gold in ancient times. Before the invention of refrigeration it was vital for preserving food. Once you put it on food you cannot separate it out again. It becomes incorporated into the food. Both the salt and the food are transformed.
Through baptism we become one with the body of Christ. We become part of the community. As members we enhance the community without losing our identity. We are transformed and become part of the wholeness of the community.
We Christians are to be salt for the world. As salt flavours and transforms, so the church permeates and transforms the world. The initiation of new members into the church strengthens us as the body of Christ and enhances our mission. Lent is an opportunity to examine our lives individually and as a community to see whether the salt has lost its savour or whether it is transforming the world.
Lent is an opportunity to renew our covenant with God and our commitment to the faith. What does it mean to believe? Does it mean intellectual assent without any connection to our daily lives? Does it mean never doubting? Faith involves passionate engagement, relationship with God. It involves giving one’s heart to belief and holding it actively with love. It means having enough confidence in its reality to act on it, incredible as it may seem.
Faith begins with trusting God’s promises. That is what brings us to a sense of holiness, of wholeness. Where do we find that kind of wholeness, of meaning? How do we achieve a vision that will sustain us through the difficult choices and tests of life?
We all undertake many covenants during our lifetime. We form covenants in marriage, in friendship, in professional life, in relationships of every kind. Covenants not only give us a sense of responsibility, they make us responsible for our actions. When we make a covenant with another person, we take on a sense of responsibility and commitment. We carry it through. When we make a covenant with God we commit to faithful discipleship.
Paul, in his letter to the Romans, reminds them of the covenant made on their behalf, of the kind of commitment on which their faith and ours rests, for we share the faith of Abraham. Paul reminds them that the unexpected happened to Abraham very late in his life. God gave him the promise of a blessing, the promise of fruitfulness. A fruitfulness which was born out in the birth of their son Isaac , a child born to Sarah and Abraham in their old age.
That promise of fruitfulness is born out in our own lives over and over again. I remember seeing a wonderful film; it must have been a National Film Board undertaking. It was about life in the desert. All you could see on the horizon was sand shifting in the wind. Then it rained, something that happened if I recall correctly only about once in seven years. Yet in no time at all, that barren wilderness was transformed into a beautiful garden. Plants bloomed and took root in that wasteland in a way that you could not have imagined. For seven years those seeds had lain dormant in the earth waiting for enough moisture to bring them to life.
What deserts have you seen come to life? A marriage that seemed to be dead, and grace is given and it blossoms into a stronger relationship. A relationship dies; a new one begins. A life is shattered by illness or bereavement; grace brings about new life. Someone thinks that they have no talent; suddenly they discover great personal gifts. A door closes; another door opens leading in a new direction, to new opportunities, to new possibilities.
The life of commitment brings about fruitfulness. But more important for us to recognize is that the Christian life requires commitment, more commitment than we can imagine, total commitment, costly commitment. After all, anything good that we set out to achieve has a cost. Somehow we seem to think that to put our trust in God is to put an end to all of our problems. If that is the basis of our faith then the Christian life is bound to be one of disillusionment.
I suspect that was Peter's problem when he rebuked Jesus. Jesus told his disciples that he would suffer and be rejected and killed. That could not have been easy for any of them to hear. Their leader whom they expected to be their king leading them to victory is telling them instead that he will be put to death. Suddenly their commitment to their leader takes a turn for the worse. What are the implications in their lives? We like to hear good news. We like comfortable words. When it comes to bearing the cross, then we cop out or crawl back into our kindergarten approach and miss the real point of having faith.
"Commitment to me," Jesus tells them as he tells each one of us, "means taking up your cross and following me." The disciples knew what that meant in a way we can never fathom. They had all witnessed Roman execution. They had seen victims carrying their cross out to the place of execution. To think that their friend and maybe even they themselves might face such a death was unthinkable. Yet through the cross Christ was able to offer real wholeness to the world. The cross, a symbol of torture, became the way to wholeness.
And what a symbol it is to the Christian! It helps us to understand that dying is the step we must take in order to bloom. What does it mean to “deny ourselves” and take up our cross and follow Jesus? What self am I denying? Is it about giving up something for Lent and then going right back to it as soon as Lent is over? Is it about constantly putting myself down?
It is about offering ourselves to be formed by God for God’s purpose. It is about becoming holy people. It is about wholeness. It is about discipleship. It is about commitment to the faith. Through self-denial we accept discipleship in a community that lives the way of the cross. We were signed with the sign of the cross at baptism. What did that signing mean for us as individuals and as community? It is at the heart of our Christian faith. As Christ bore our sins on the cross, so we find the grace and strength to live the Christian life. We accept responsibility for living the Christian life. Instead of thinking of ourselves we embrace the way of Jesus. It is above all finding our true selves, becoming all we are meant to be and understanding in a true sense what it means to be human.
As Christ bore our sins on the cross, so we find the grace and strength to live the Christian life. We trust in God's promises to bring us to a sense of wholeness and allow us to enter into the life of the community. We commit ourselves to the gospel message. We commit ourselves to faith in a gospel which calls us to service, to make a difference through our lives, through love of God and of neighbour.
Our mission is to salt the earth. If we are to be salty people it begins with our own commitment to the gospel. Let us be salty people!
Year B
Readings: Genesis 17:1-10, 15-19; Psalm 22:22-31; Romans 4:16-25; Mark 8:31-38
Last week we began a journey from ashes to Easter. Lent always begins with ashes as a powerful reminder of our need for repentance. Last Sunday, the symbol of water reminded us of the new beginning we made as we entered the waters of baptism. Today we add the symbol of salt.
Consider its purpose. It brings out the flavour of food. It was literally worth its weight in gold in ancient times. Before the invention of refrigeration it was vital for preserving food. Once you put it on food you cannot separate it out again. It becomes incorporated into the food. Both the salt and the food are transformed.
Through baptism we become one with the body of Christ. We become part of the community. As members we enhance the community without losing our identity. We are transformed and become part of the wholeness of the community.
We Christians are to be salt for the world. As salt flavours and transforms, so the church permeates and transforms the world. The initiation of new members into the church strengthens us as the body of Christ and enhances our mission. Lent is an opportunity to examine our lives individually and as a community to see whether the salt has lost its savour or whether it is transforming the world.
Lent is an opportunity to renew our covenant with God and our commitment to the faith. What does it mean to believe? Does it mean intellectual assent without any connection to our daily lives? Does it mean never doubting? Faith involves passionate engagement, relationship with God. It involves giving one’s heart to belief and holding it actively with love. It means having enough confidence in its reality to act on it, incredible as it may seem.
Faith begins with trusting God’s promises. That is what brings us to a sense of holiness, of wholeness. Where do we find that kind of wholeness, of meaning? How do we achieve a vision that will sustain us through the difficult choices and tests of life?
We all undertake many covenants during our lifetime. We form covenants in marriage, in friendship, in professional life, in relationships of every kind. Covenants not only give us a sense of responsibility, they make us responsible for our actions. When we make a covenant with another person, we take on a sense of responsibility and commitment. We carry it through. When we make a covenant with God we commit to faithful discipleship.
Paul, in his letter to the Romans, reminds them of the covenant made on their behalf, of the kind of commitment on which their faith and ours rests, for we share the faith of Abraham. Paul reminds them that the unexpected happened to Abraham very late in his life. God gave him the promise of a blessing, the promise of fruitfulness. A fruitfulness which was born out in the birth of their son Isaac , a child born to Sarah and Abraham in their old age.
That promise of fruitfulness is born out in our own lives over and over again. I remember seeing a wonderful film; it must have been a National Film Board undertaking. It was about life in the desert. All you could see on the horizon was sand shifting in the wind. Then it rained, something that happened if I recall correctly only about once in seven years. Yet in no time at all, that barren wilderness was transformed into a beautiful garden. Plants bloomed and took root in that wasteland in a way that you could not have imagined. For seven years those seeds had lain dormant in the earth waiting for enough moisture to bring them to life.
What deserts have you seen come to life? A marriage that seemed to be dead, and grace is given and it blossoms into a stronger relationship. A relationship dies; a new one begins. A life is shattered by illness or bereavement; grace brings about new life. Someone thinks that they have no talent; suddenly they discover great personal gifts. A door closes; another door opens leading in a new direction, to new opportunities, to new possibilities.
The life of commitment brings about fruitfulness. But more important for us to recognize is that the Christian life requires commitment, more commitment than we can imagine, total commitment, costly commitment. After all, anything good that we set out to achieve has a cost. Somehow we seem to think that to put our trust in God is to put an end to all of our problems. If that is the basis of our faith then the Christian life is bound to be one of disillusionment.
I suspect that was Peter's problem when he rebuked Jesus. Jesus told his disciples that he would suffer and be rejected and killed. That could not have been easy for any of them to hear. Their leader whom they expected to be their king leading them to victory is telling them instead that he will be put to death. Suddenly their commitment to their leader takes a turn for the worse. What are the implications in their lives? We like to hear good news. We like comfortable words. When it comes to bearing the cross, then we cop out or crawl back into our kindergarten approach and miss the real point of having faith.
"Commitment to me," Jesus tells them as he tells each one of us, "means taking up your cross and following me." The disciples knew what that meant in a way we can never fathom. They had all witnessed Roman execution. They had seen victims carrying their cross out to the place of execution. To think that their friend and maybe even they themselves might face such a death was unthinkable. Yet through the cross Christ was able to offer real wholeness to the world. The cross, a symbol of torture, became the way to wholeness.
And what a symbol it is to the Christian! It helps us to understand that dying is the step we must take in order to bloom. What does it mean to “deny ourselves” and take up our cross and follow Jesus? What self am I denying? Is it about giving up something for Lent and then going right back to it as soon as Lent is over? Is it about constantly putting myself down?
It is about offering ourselves to be formed by God for God’s purpose. It is about becoming holy people. It is about wholeness. It is about discipleship. It is about commitment to the faith. Through self-denial we accept discipleship in a community that lives the way of the cross. We were signed with the sign of the cross at baptism. What did that signing mean for us as individuals and as community? It is at the heart of our Christian faith. As Christ bore our sins on the cross, so we find the grace and strength to live the Christian life. We accept responsibility for living the Christian life. Instead of thinking of ourselves we embrace the way of Jesus. It is above all finding our true selves, becoming all we are meant to be and understanding in a true sense what it means to be human.
As Christ bore our sins on the cross, so we find the grace and strength to live the Christian life. We trust in God's promises to bring us to a sense of wholeness and allow us to enter into the life of the community. We commit ourselves to the gospel message. We commit ourselves to faith in a gospel which calls us to service, to make a difference through our lives, through love of God and of neighbour.
Our mission is to salt the earth. If we are to be salty people it begins with our own commitment to the gospel. Let us be salty people!
Saturday, February 25, 2012
New Beginnings
The First Sunday in Lent,
Year B
Readings: Genesis 9:8-17; Psalm 25:1-9; 1 Peter 3:18-22; Mark 1:9-15
Spring is a new beginning. Long before we see the signs of new life that tell us that winter is past, the earth is beginning to prepare itself for spring. Already we are seeing signs of that new beginning. Days are beginning to lengthen. Soon the signs will become more tangible – new colour, new life, warmth. And along with the beginnings of new life will come also the violence that accompanies re-birth. Rivers will fill with rushing water. There will be the inevitable springtime thunderstorms.
Our human experience of new beginnings also carries with it both the gentleness and the turmoil of spring. Both are necessary to produce new life, new growth. With all the wintry weather we have been experiencing it may not feel as if spring is close, but Lent is the Church’s springtime. It is the time for us to be reborn in gentleness and violence to the new life in Christ.
New beginnings are exciting. I think of some of my own new beginnings. I grew up in the hustle and bustle of the inner city of Toronto. There has always been a comfort for me in being surrounded by tall buildings. The noises of the city, the rumbling of cars and streetcars, factory noises, are all a natural part of my world.
How different my life became when, at seventeen, I moved up north to begin a teaching assignment at an Indian Residential School on James Bay. There were so many new experiences. Flying for the first time, my first class of children, experiencing a new culture, learning to drive a skidoo, a canoe trip up the Fort George River! The night sky lit up with stars! The northern lights dancing with beautiful colour! The howl of the wolves that was enough to raise the hair on the back of my neck!
New beginnings involve risk. They call us from our familiar, comfortable world into a strange and unfamiliar one. We can feel isolated, alone and unsupported as we embark on a new venture or relationship. It is difficult to see where it all may lead. My early teaching experience certainly had its storms. I was living in isolation far away from family and friends. During ‘freeze up’ and ‘break up’ no planes could get into our northern community so for weeks on end we had no contact with the outside world. I was working with small children taken away from their homes and families and cultures. I left home barely three weeks after the tragic death of my younger brother. Yet I look back on it as a fruitful time in my life that led me in life directions that have proven invaluable.
The story of Noah and the flood is an epic story of a new beginning. In the beginning God created the world. God created it out of goodness. But evil entered into the world. From the destructive waters of the flood God began over again. God entered into a covenant relationship with Noah. Covenant helps us to understand that a creating God not only brings us into existence, but also enters into relationship with us. It breaks down the barriers between God and humanity giving meaning and hope to our existence. The rainbow becomes a symbol of our solidarity with God and all of creation. It is an intuitive association and one that requires our reflective thought.
Mark tells us about a new beginning in Jesus' life. His baptism in the Jordan marked for him the beginning of his earthly ministry. Privacy ends, public life begins. It marks a covenant relationship between him and God. It is a point of intersection, a meeting of heaven and earth. “You are my Son, the Beloved,” God tells him. The Spirit of God enters him enabling him for what lies ahead. It is for Jesus as it would be for any of us, a time of decision, of pressure, of anxiety.
How do we make a new beginning in our spiritual life? Baptism is the new beginning for the Christian. We go down into the water to die. We emerge from the water to new life. It is an exciting moment in our lives as we make a decision to follow Christ. It is an exciting moment as we enter into relationship with God. It is an exciting moment as we recognize the Spirit of God at work in our lives. But there is also risk at entering the water. It is a time to let go, to lose control, to become vulnerable.
“But I was just a child when I was baptized,” you may be thinking. And there does come a point in our spiritual lives when we will want to renew that covenant with God. Whenever there is a baptism we are given such an opportunity. Many people experience times of renewed commitment through a time of retreat or a conference or a renewal movement. We need to experience times of change and growth. They may be times of great joy, the birth of a child, a new relationship. Often it happens because of the turbulence of life, times of disaster, or uncertainty, a death in the family, a move, changing jobs, unemployment, sickness, and retirement. Both are opportunities to draw closer to God, times of spiritual growth and recommitment.
Lent offers us an opportunity to renew our baptismal covenant, an opportunity to develop our relationship with God. For Lent is a time of self-examination, of checking our focus, of sorting our priorities. It is a time to reflect on God's promises and to recognize our failure to live up to our part of the relationship. It is a time to begin anew, through repentance, through seeking God's guidance, through struggle, and through renewed commitment. It is a time to seek God's guidance. Hopefully we begin to rely on God. May it be a time of renewal and hope!
Lent is a time for a new beginning. We are invited to reconsider our baptismal covenant and rededicate ourselves to a continuing conversion. We are called to begin again to enter into the death-resurrection process. We do not know where this new beginning will take us, but together we enter into a journey from ashes to Easter.
Year B
Readings: Genesis 9:8-17; Psalm 25:1-9; 1 Peter 3:18-22; Mark 1:9-15
Spring is a new beginning. Long before we see the signs of new life that tell us that winter is past, the earth is beginning to prepare itself for spring. Already we are seeing signs of that new beginning. Days are beginning to lengthen. Soon the signs will become more tangible – new colour, new life, warmth. And along with the beginnings of new life will come also the violence that accompanies re-birth. Rivers will fill with rushing water. There will be the inevitable springtime thunderstorms.
Our human experience of new beginnings also carries with it both the gentleness and the turmoil of spring. Both are necessary to produce new life, new growth. With all the wintry weather we have been experiencing it may not feel as if spring is close, but Lent is the Church’s springtime. It is the time for us to be reborn in gentleness and violence to the new life in Christ.
New beginnings are exciting. I think of some of my own new beginnings. I grew up in the hustle and bustle of the inner city of Toronto. There has always been a comfort for me in being surrounded by tall buildings. The noises of the city, the rumbling of cars and streetcars, factory noises, are all a natural part of my world.
How different my life became when, at seventeen, I moved up north to begin a teaching assignment at an Indian Residential School on James Bay. There were so many new experiences. Flying for the first time, my first class of children, experiencing a new culture, learning to drive a skidoo, a canoe trip up the Fort George River! The night sky lit up with stars! The northern lights dancing with beautiful colour! The howl of the wolves that was enough to raise the hair on the back of my neck!
New beginnings involve risk. They call us from our familiar, comfortable world into a strange and unfamiliar one. We can feel isolated, alone and unsupported as we embark on a new venture or relationship. It is difficult to see where it all may lead. My early teaching experience certainly had its storms. I was living in isolation far away from family and friends. During ‘freeze up’ and ‘break up’ no planes could get into our northern community so for weeks on end we had no contact with the outside world. I was working with small children taken away from their homes and families and cultures. I left home barely three weeks after the tragic death of my younger brother. Yet I look back on it as a fruitful time in my life that led me in life directions that have proven invaluable.
The story of Noah and the flood is an epic story of a new beginning. In the beginning God created the world. God created it out of goodness. But evil entered into the world. From the destructive waters of the flood God began over again. God entered into a covenant relationship with Noah. Covenant helps us to understand that a creating God not only brings us into existence, but also enters into relationship with us. It breaks down the barriers between God and humanity giving meaning and hope to our existence. The rainbow becomes a symbol of our solidarity with God and all of creation. It is an intuitive association and one that requires our reflective thought.
Mark tells us about a new beginning in Jesus' life. His baptism in the Jordan marked for him the beginning of his earthly ministry. Privacy ends, public life begins. It marks a covenant relationship between him and God. It is a point of intersection, a meeting of heaven and earth. “You are my Son, the Beloved,” God tells him. The Spirit of God enters him enabling him for what lies ahead. It is for Jesus as it would be for any of us, a time of decision, of pressure, of anxiety.
How do we make a new beginning in our spiritual life? Baptism is the new beginning for the Christian. We go down into the water to die. We emerge from the water to new life. It is an exciting moment in our lives as we make a decision to follow Christ. It is an exciting moment as we enter into relationship with God. It is an exciting moment as we recognize the Spirit of God at work in our lives. But there is also risk at entering the water. It is a time to let go, to lose control, to become vulnerable.
“But I was just a child when I was baptized,” you may be thinking. And there does come a point in our spiritual lives when we will want to renew that covenant with God. Whenever there is a baptism we are given such an opportunity. Many people experience times of renewed commitment through a time of retreat or a conference or a renewal movement. We need to experience times of change and growth. They may be times of great joy, the birth of a child, a new relationship. Often it happens because of the turbulence of life, times of disaster, or uncertainty, a death in the family, a move, changing jobs, unemployment, sickness, and retirement. Both are opportunities to draw closer to God, times of spiritual growth and recommitment.
Lent offers us an opportunity to renew our baptismal covenant, an opportunity to develop our relationship with God. For Lent is a time of self-examination, of checking our focus, of sorting our priorities. It is a time to reflect on God's promises and to recognize our failure to live up to our part of the relationship. It is a time to begin anew, through repentance, through seeking God's guidance, through struggle, and through renewed commitment. It is a time to seek God's guidance. Hopefully we begin to rely on God. May it be a time of renewal and hope!
Lent is a time for a new beginning. We are invited to reconsider our baptismal covenant and rededicate ourselves to a continuing conversion. We are called to begin again to enter into the death-resurrection process. We do not know where this new beginning will take us, but together we enter into a journey from ashes to Easter.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Encountering the Holy
The Last Sunday in Epiphany
Year B
Readings: 2 Kings 2:1-12; Psalm 50:1-6; 2 Corinthians 4:3-6; Mark 9:2-9
This morning in Scripture we hear stories of encounters with God. They are encounters full of vivid imagery that can help us to understand how we come face to face with God and the difference it can make in our lives.
The first is the story of Elijah being taken up into Heaven. His journey begins in Gilgal in the hill country. Elijah invites his protégé, Elisha, to go no further. It is a test. Elisha passes. He will not leave Elijah to make the journey alone. They arrive at the Jordan River. Elijah strikes the water. It parts, allowing the two of them to cross over away from the rest of the company of prophets. Elijah asks the younger Elisha what he can pass on to him.
“A double share of your spirit,” Elisha tells him. It is not that he thinks he needs twice as much of the gifts and talents of Elijah to do the job. It is that he wants affirmation. As the eldest son in a Jewish family inherited the double portion of his father’s estate, so Elisha wants a double share of Elijah’s spirituality. He knows that Elijah’s spiritual strength is what has carried Israel through difficult times.
“If you see me as I am being taken from you, it will be granted you; if not, it will not,” he is told. He sees the departure. It is a dramatic vision in which he sees Elijah being taken into Heaven in a chariot of fire drawn by horses of fire. It is for him a powerful glimpse of God’s presence. It is a wonderful affirmation that God is with him. He knows that the mantle has passed on to him. He knows that God has great things in store for his life. It is a moment of transformation for him, one that he can carry with him throughout his prophetic ministry.
The second story is the account of the transfiguration. Jesus takes Peter, James and John up a high mountain. So many things happen on the mountain, mountaintop experiences that affirm that God is with us. There on the mountaintop, Jesus is transfigured, changed. He appears before them in dazzling white, a sign of God’s presence. When they see Jesus transfigured, brighter than the brightest star, pure light before them, they see more than his future and risen life. Jesus shows them who they are becoming. He shows them the glory and destiny of all of humanity.
It is a watershed moment in their lives and ours. Once again we hear the voice from Heaven, “This is my Son, the Beloved. Listen to him.” It takes us back to the moment of Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan. God is present in the cloud. Jesus is revealed to be the very Child of God.
The vision ends as quickly as it began, like a bursting bubble. The disciples are quickly transported back to the valley. It is in the valley that they are called to serve lovingly and faithfully. It is in the difficult arenas of the world that their ministry will unfold. But they will carry their mountaintop experience with them. Later when they look back on what has happened it will help them to face the difficult days, days of loss and confusion.
Hopefully those two epiphanies remind us of such encounters in our own lives. Such moments can be unpredictable, fast moving, noisy, or so fleeting and gentle that we almost miss them. Yet they are encounters with God that carry us through the difficult times of life. They affirm that God is with us.
When have you encountered God? More importantly, how did it change you? We all have those encounters in our lives, times when the boundaries between Heaven and earth disappear and we see the infinite goodness of God. It is that which allows us to see the possibilities in our own existence. Those encounters allow us to make changes in our lives, to begin to put God first, to answer God’s call.
Who has not been transformed by the beauty of a particular sunset even though there are hundreds of sunsets that they never noticed? Who has not responded to the smell of an April rain, or the quiet of an early morning, or the glitter of the stars on a wintry night?
Grace comes into our lives in other unexpected ways. Our relationships with other people can be transformative experiences that transcend the barriers between us and God. There are times of disclosure when we allow others to really see who we are. It is usually during some moment of crisis when life hangs in the balance.
Those are the moments that most clearly shape our lives. Without such moments others would never really come to know who we are. We would never really come to know them. And we would miss out on great insights into the nature and essence of the God we worship.
As humans, we are called to heights, to greatness, to moments when our souls take flight. To moments which illuminate our lives and help us to know who we are meant to be. They bring us to the place where we can truly understand who we are and the glory to which God has called us. They are the times that we can hold onto when our faith is rocky and our path uncertain. They are times of transfiguration and great joy.
Reluctant though we may be, being in the presence of God changes us. It changes us unmistakably and forever. A genuine encounter with God leaves us with a desire to act, to make a change in our lives. It may stem from awareness that God has plans for us. God may give us words to speak, or an action plan to follow. Or we may have been called on to make a change in our life.
Let us use this coming season of Lent wisely as a time of spiritual renewal and transformation in our lives. Begin by coming to the service on Wednesday. Let the ashes remind you of your need to allow God’s grace to transform your life. Then each day in Lent let yourself remember those times when you have been most aware of God’s grace.
May God’s divine illumination shining on us allow us to see the glory that is God!
Year B
Readings: 2 Kings 2:1-12; Psalm 50:1-6; 2 Corinthians 4:3-6; Mark 9:2-9
This morning in Scripture we hear stories of encounters with God. They are encounters full of vivid imagery that can help us to understand how we come face to face with God and the difference it can make in our lives.
The first is the story of Elijah being taken up into Heaven. His journey begins in Gilgal in the hill country. Elijah invites his protégé, Elisha, to go no further. It is a test. Elisha passes. He will not leave Elijah to make the journey alone. They arrive at the Jordan River. Elijah strikes the water. It parts, allowing the two of them to cross over away from the rest of the company of prophets. Elijah asks the younger Elisha what he can pass on to him.
“A double share of your spirit,” Elisha tells him. It is not that he thinks he needs twice as much of the gifts and talents of Elijah to do the job. It is that he wants affirmation. As the eldest son in a Jewish family inherited the double portion of his father’s estate, so Elisha wants a double share of Elijah’s spirituality. He knows that Elijah’s spiritual strength is what has carried Israel through difficult times.
“If you see me as I am being taken from you, it will be granted you; if not, it will not,” he is told. He sees the departure. It is a dramatic vision in which he sees Elijah being taken into Heaven in a chariot of fire drawn by horses of fire. It is for him a powerful glimpse of God’s presence. It is a wonderful affirmation that God is with him. He knows that the mantle has passed on to him. He knows that God has great things in store for his life. It is a moment of transformation for him, one that he can carry with him throughout his prophetic ministry.
The second story is the account of the transfiguration. Jesus takes Peter, James and John up a high mountain. So many things happen on the mountain, mountaintop experiences that affirm that God is with us. There on the mountaintop, Jesus is transfigured, changed. He appears before them in dazzling white, a sign of God’s presence. When they see Jesus transfigured, brighter than the brightest star, pure light before them, they see more than his future and risen life. Jesus shows them who they are becoming. He shows them the glory and destiny of all of humanity.
It is a watershed moment in their lives and ours. Once again we hear the voice from Heaven, “This is my Son, the Beloved. Listen to him.” It takes us back to the moment of Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan. God is present in the cloud. Jesus is revealed to be the very Child of God.
The vision ends as quickly as it began, like a bursting bubble. The disciples are quickly transported back to the valley. It is in the valley that they are called to serve lovingly and faithfully. It is in the difficult arenas of the world that their ministry will unfold. But they will carry their mountaintop experience with them. Later when they look back on what has happened it will help them to face the difficult days, days of loss and confusion.
Hopefully those two epiphanies remind us of such encounters in our own lives. Such moments can be unpredictable, fast moving, noisy, or so fleeting and gentle that we almost miss them. Yet they are encounters with God that carry us through the difficult times of life. They affirm that God is with us.
When have you encountered God? More importantly, how did it change you? We all have those encounters in our lives, times when the boundaries between Heaven and earth disappear and we see the infinite goodness of God. It is that which allows us to see the possibilities in our own existence. Those encounters allow us to make changes in our lives, to begin to put God first, to answer God’s call.
Who has not been transformed by the beauty of a particular sunset even though there are hundreds of sunsets that they never noticed? Who has not responded to the smell of an April rain, or the quiet of an early morning, or the glitter of the stars on a wintry night?
Grace comes into our lives in other unexpected ways. Our relationships with other people can be transformative experiences that transcend the barriers between us and God. There are times of disclosure when we allow others to really see who we are. It is usually during some moment of crisis when life hangs in the balance.
Those are the moments that most clearly shape our lives. Without such moments others would never really come to know who we are. We would never really come to know them. And we would miss out on great insights into the nature and essence of the God we worship.
As humans, we are called to heights, to greatness, to moments when our souls take flight. To moments which illuminate our lives and help us to know who we are meant to be. They bring us to the place where we can truly understand who we are and the glory to which God has called us. They are the times that we can hold onto when our faith is rocky and our path uncertain. They are times of transfiguration and great joy.
Reluctant though we may be, being in the presence of God changes us. It changes us unmistakably and forever. A genuine encounter with God leaves us with a desire to act, to make a change in our lives. It may stem from awareness that God has plans for us. God may give us words to speak, or an action plan to follow. Or we may have been called on to make a change in our life.
Let us use this coming season of Lent wisely as a time of spiritual renewal and transformation in our lives. Begin by coming to the service on Wednesday. Let the ashes remind you of your need to allow God’s grace to transform your life. Then each day in Lent let yourself remember those times when you have been most aware of God’s grace.
May God’s divine illumination shining on us allow us to see the glory that is God!
Friday, February 3, 2012
To Pray, To Touch, To Heal
The Fifth Sunday of Epiphany, Year B
Readings: Isaiah 40:21-31; Psalm 147:1-12, 21c; 1 Corinthians 9:16-23; Mark 1:29-39
When I visited the Holy Land, one of the scenes that came alive to me was the story in today’s Gospel. We visited Capernaum where we stood on the site of the Synagogue. We walked across the road to a church built above a small house, believed to be that of Simon. There we read the passage of the healing of Simon’s mother.
Jesus was teaching in the synagogue in Capernaum. He and his disciples left the synagogue and walked the few steps to the house of Simon and Andrew. Simon's mother-in-law was in bed with a fever. When the others told him about her illness, he did not hesitate for a moment. He went in to her, took her by the hand and lifted her up. The fever left her. She began to minister to their needs. The one who is healed becomes the one who serves.
The story calls out for a response on our part, for it serves as a pattern for the Christian life. The woman, who is brought to Jesus by others, is given new life and responds with service. Her restoration is immediate and complete. She is in touch with God. She becomes the deacon, the one called to a position of service. Women did not traditionally serve at the table, yet that is her response to the healing that has taken place in her life.
However, the story does not end there. It is just the beginning. Later that evening the crowds gathered around the door of the little home. As Jesus’ fame spread like wildfire, the place quickly filled up. It seemed as if everyone was there. They came out of desperation. They came in their neediness. Jesus healed many who were sick, and cast out many demons.
The life of wholeness in the Christian requires a response; it requires action on our part. The story is a graphic reminder of the desperate need of the masses of people in our world. It is a graphic picture of the one who is able to provide healing and fulfillment for those needs. What the Gospel calls us to remember, and what we too often forget, is that this same Christ applies his divine touch to the ailments of suffering people in and around us today. What is more, he does it through us. We who receive God’s healing grace are called to reach out to others with Christ’s healing touch.
"We live in another age," you may say. "We don't believe in that kind of thing any more. We don't expect miracles. I mean, get real. In Jesus’ time they believed in demons and heaven only knows what else!"
Yet even the medical community is finds itself accepting the role that faith has in healing. They are more likely to consider that healing has to do with a better outlook on life, but they agree that Spiritual wellness is an important aspect of healing. Historically science has not embraced the connection between faith and health but an increasing number of scientific authorities acknowledge that spiritual practices, including prayer, worship, and service to others, influence our health. It comes from a new holistic sensitivity that has made medicine re-examine its perspectives. It comes too from examining stories of miraculous cures.
The gospel calls us to reflect on what keeps us from wholeness. What demons afflict us? Do we have worries and fears that keep us from being truly alive? Do we have bad habits and unhealthy practices that nag at us? Do we have weaknesses or compulsions that we know keep us from God?
We know that we must trust medical science. After all, God uses the skills of doctors and nurses to bring about healing. However, we must also recognize the healing power of God. As Christians we believe that the healing power of God is present in every celebration of the Eucharist. In the Prayers of the People Sunday by Sunday we bring our own needs and those of others before God. We offer the ministry of reconciliation, recognizing the connection between wholeness and being right with God and with the community. We offer the reserved sacrament to shut ins and those who are sick. And in the tradition of the early church, many congregations offer anointing with oil. Using holy oils consecrated by the bishop at a special service during Lent, they anoint and lay hands on the sick and on those who are in need.
When people came to Jesus for healing, Jesus said that he did not come only to heal sick people, but to bring wholeness to the world. He came to change the world in such a way that sickness would disappear. He asked them to look for the reasons for so much of the sickness in our society and to change their priorities.
That continues to be our call as Christians. Some mission sisters went from Europe to start a clinic in an impoverished area in Africa. People came bringing their children. The clinic was successful, but the sisters wondered whether they were doing the right thing. Almost all of the cases they treated were children suffering from diarrhea. It dehydrated them, so the sisters would treat them overnight, and it would seem like a miraculous recovery. Yet they knew that the cause of the sickness was the drinking water. They knew that treating the symptoms was not the answer. They knew they needed to prevent the disease. They started visiting people in their homes and addressing community groups to bring about a change in lifestyle for the people
Exploring the whole process of healing is important to us as Christians. We need an awareness of the power of God to heal. And we need to recognize our neediness before God. Like Jesus we need to take time out of our busy lives to renew our strength. That, it seems to me is the key to wholeness. Jesus knew that there were times when he needed to withdraw from the crowds. How many times do we read in Scripture that he withdrew to a lonely place to pray? That is no mistake. There, in the quiet, he came in touch with the source of his power. There he renewed his strength.
How important it is for us in our busy lives to withdraw for prayer, to be in touch with God. To know God. To recharge our batteries. To be alone. To be renewed.
How can we find the power, the inner joy and peace, the spiritual health to keep ourselves strong and motivated and whole through the difficult times of our lives? How do we sustain the life of our congregation? How can we channel power and peace and joy to the difficult people and situations all about us? It begins with the closeness of our walk with God. It is through allowing God to keep in touch with us through Word and Sacrament, through prayer and praise. Then God will be able to work in and through us for the wholeness of the world.
I need your divine touch, O Lord. Only then can I be what you want me to be. Have your way in me and through me today. Amen.
Readings: Isaiah 40:21-31; Psalm 147:1-12, 21c; 1 Corinthians 9:16-23; Mark 1:29-39
When I visited the Holy Land, one of the scenes that came alive to me was the story in today’s Gospel. We visited Capernaum where we stood on the site of the Synagogue. We walked across the road to a church built above a small house, believed to be that of Simon. There we read the passage of the healing of Simon’s mother.
Jesus was teaching in the synagogue in Capernaum. He and his disciples left the synagogue and walked the few steps to the house of Simon and Andrew. Simon's mother-in-law was in bed with a fever. When the others told him about her illness, he did not hesitate for a moment. He went in to her, took her by the hand and lifted her up. The fever left her. She began to minister to their needs. The one who is healed becomes the one who serves.
The story calls out for a response on our part, for it serves as a pattern for the Christian life. The woman, who is brought to Jesus by others, is given new life and responds with service. Her restoration is immediate and complete. She is in touch with God. She becomes the deacon, the one called to a position of service. Women did not traditionally serve at the table, yet that is her response to the healing that has taken place in her life.
However, the story does not end there. It is just the beginning. Later that evening the crowds gathered around the door of the little home. As Jesus’ fame spread like wildfire, the place quickly filled up. It seemed as if everyone was there. They came out of desperation. They came in their neediness. Jesus healed many who were sick, and cast out many demons.
The life of wholeness in the Christian requires a response; it requires action on our part. The story is a graphic reminder of the desperate need of the masses of people in our world. It is a graphic picture of the one who is able to provide healing and fulfillment for those needs. What the Gospel calls us to remember, and what we too often forget, is that this same Christ applies his divine touch to the ailments of suffering people in and around us today. What is more, he does it through us. We who receive God’s healing grace are called to reach out to others with Christ’s healing touch.
"We live in another age," you may say. "We don't believe in that kind of thing any more. We don't expect miracles. I mean, get real. In Jesus’ time they believed in demons and heaven only knows what else!"
Yet even the medical community is finds itself accepting the role that faith has in healing. They are more likely to consider that healing has to do with a better outlook on life, but they agree that Spiritual wellness is an important aspect of healing. Historically science has not embraced the connection between faith and health but an increasing number of scientific authorities acknowledge that spiritual practices, including prayer, worship, and service to others, influence our health. It comes from a new holistic sensitivity that has made medicine re-examine its perspectives. It comes too from examining stories of miraculous cures.
The gospel calls us to reflect on what keeps us from wholeness. What demons afflict us? Do we have worries and fears that keep us from being truly alive? Do we have bad habits and unhealthy practices that nag at us? Do we have weaknesses or compulsions that we know keep us from God?
We know that we must trust medical science. After all, God uses the skills of doctors and nurses to bring about healing. However, we must also recognize the healing power of God. As Christians we believe that the healing power of God is present in every celebration of the Eucharist. In the Prayers of the People Sunday by Sunday we bring our own needs and those of others before God. We offer the ministry of reconciliation, recognizing the connection between wholeness and being right with God and with the community. We offer the reserved sacrament to shut ins and those who are sick. And in the tradition of the early church, many congregations offer anointing with oil. Using holy oils consecrated by the bishop at a special service during Lent, they anoint and lay hands on the sick and on those who are in need.
When people came to Jesus for healing, Jesus said that he did not come only to heal sick people, but to bring wholeness to the world. He came to change the world in such a way that sickness would disappear. He asked them to look for the reasons for so much of the sickness in our society and to change their priorities.
That continues to be our call as Christians. Some mission sisters went from Europe to start a clinic in an impoverished area in Africa. People came bringing their children. The clinic was successful, but the sisters wondered whether they were doing the right thing. Almost all of the cases they treated were children suffering from diarrhea. It dehydrated them, so the sisters would treat them overnight, and it would seem like a miraculous recovery. Yet they knew that the cause of the sickness was the drinking water. They knew that treating the symptoms was not the answer. They knew they needed to prevent the disease. They started visiting people in their homes and addressing community groups to bring about a change in lifestyle for the people
Exploring the whole process of healing is important to us as Christians. We need an awareness of the power of God to heal. And we need to recognize our neediness before God. Like Jesus we need to take time out of our busy lives to renew our strength. That, it seems to me is the key to wholeness. Jesus knew that there were times when he needed to withdraw from the crowds. How many times do we read in Scripture that he withdrew to a lonely place to pray? That is no mistake. There, in the quiet, he came in touch with the source of his power. There he renewed his strength.
How important it is for us in our busy lives to withdraw for prayer, to be in touch with God. To know God. To recharge our batteries. To be alone. To be renewed.
How can we find the power, the inner joy and peace, the spiritual health to keep ourselves strong and motivated and whole through the difficult times of our lives? How do we sustain the life of our congregation? How can we channel power and peace and joy to the difficult people and situations all about us? It begins with the closeness of our walk with God. It is through allowing God to keep in touch with us through Word and Sacrament, through prayer and praise. Then God will be able to work in and through us for the wholeness of the world.
I need your divine touch, O Lord. Only then can I be what you want me to be. Have your way in me and through me today. Amen.
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