Finding a Voice
Readings: Jeremiah 31:27-34; Psalm 119:97-104; 2 Tim 3:14-4:5; Luke 18:1-8
No one who has suffered, who has been in pain, or who has watched a loved one die would deny the importance of a strong and resilient faith. What I have heard over the years of my ministry to those who are grieving, is how important their faith is to them at such a time. Simply being a Christian does not mean that life will be smooth sailing or free of problems. In fact the communities for which the passages of Scripture read today were written experienced terrible suffering. They were tempted to abandon hope, deny the faith and give up their vision of God’s way. But in each case their faith sustained them so that they were able to overcome their adversities. They learned that God may at times seem far away, but in reality God’s faithfulness persists. God is there on the journey every step of the way. They learned the need to persist, to continue to ask God to meet their needs, and to listen for God’s caring guidance on life’s journey.
The prophet Jeremiah continues to have great hope for the people of Israel, even though he has faced imprisonment and disaster. He believes God’s promise. He knows that God is not responsible for the terrible things that have happened, but he knows that it has meaning. That is his job as a prophet. The terrible things that they are experiencing are the result of choices that people have made. But they are not to lose heart. He knows that God is not abandoning the people of Israel. God continues to call them back into covenant and into new and intimate relationship.
And isn’t that something that we all need to remember throughout our lives? It may be the only thing that keeps us faithful when we become weary of praying, or feel as if God is far away and inaccessible. We all go through dry patches in our spiritual lives.
It certainly was an important learning for Timothy. We hear in the New Testament reading about a person encumbered with care for his community. His responsibilities have become a burden that often seems too much for him to bear. His preaching seems futile as people get “itching ears” and would rather follow teachers who will tell them what they want to hear rather than a faith fraught with difficulties and persecution. He is encouraged to hold fast to the truth and to continue to be guided by Scripture.
Our whole history as the people of God is about God’s faithfulness regardless of our disobedience and lack of faith. God will never be diverted from the path, a path that leads to justice, peace and grace. That is the gospel message!
What wonderful stories Jesus tells! His parables seem to turn the tables on all that is wrong in society. He tells a parable about two very different people. On the one hand, there is a judge, not a particularly good one, rather one who has power and influence. He embodies the establishment. And on the other hand, there is a woman, a widow, who embodies the marginal, the poor, the powerless. Because she is a widow, she is totally dependent for her livelihood on the men in the family. There are no jobs for a woman. There is no social assistance. Either she gets the help she needs from her husband’s relatives, or she begs on some street corner. She appears before the judge to ask his help in getting her rights. She is too poor to offer a bribe. So he ignores her. The Hebrew word for widow means “silent one, one unable to speak”. And yet she finds her voice. Something in her whether it be desperation or resiliance, keeps her going. She keeps demanding that justice be done. The judge makes excuses. He cannot be bothered with the widow. But she persists. Finally the judge is worn down and she wins her case.
The story of the widow is played out in our modern day world over and over again. Africa is a continent gripped by poverty, war, AIDS and diseases that in most of the world are totally preventable. They are not alone in their suffering. From every corner of the globe we hear the cries of women who suffer abuse simply because they are women.
Jesus tells the story to the disciples to remind them about their need to pray and to be persistent in the faith, but there is surely a much more important learning for us. This is a reminder that even when we feel powerless, we are called to make a stand alongside those who are truly powerless and disadvantaged. We are called to be the voice of the voiceless. Jesus will be right there standing in solidarity with us in every situation. Yet so often we do nothing because we think that what little we can do will not make a difference.
A woman was walking along a beach that was littered with dead and dying starfish. Periodically, she would stoop down, pick one up and toss it back into the ocean. A man was watching her and shouted, “There are thousands of starfish stranded on this beach. Your efforts won’t make a difference.” The strolling woman stooped and picked up one more starfish, tossed it back into the ocean and said, “It makes a difference to that one.”
She knew that she was powerless to reverse a dire situation, but she also knew that there were things she could change, no matter what anyone shouting at her thought. While we hear many stories of dire situations throughout our world, we hear too of amazing people who do what they can to bring positive change to the world. They are individuals who simply will not give up.
Who has not marvelled at the strength of Malala, the young Pakastani school girl, shot by the Taliban for her persistence in pursuing an education? That she recovered is a miracle. That she continues to speak out with such a strong voice is monumental. She has found her voice and it will not be silenced.
In 1998 I attended the Women’s Festival in Harare, Zimbabwe, celebrating the World Council of Churches Decade of the Churches in Solidarity with Women. I was there as a speaker, but I learned far more than I taught. Part of the experience was a woman to woman visit with a family in another part of Africa. I stayed with a family in one of the townships in South Africa. As part of the experience I visited two women who had founded a collective. They were widowed very young and found themselves in desperate circumstances. The one thing they knew how to do was bead work. They set up a small business in their village and began to make lovely jewellery. They found a buyer and soon began to find that they could not keep up with the demand for their product. They hired other women in the village, rented a derelict building and got down to work. The building was quite large. They diversified, and got some other people in the town to do tie dyed scarves and other lovely articles of clothing. They noted that there were still many people in the village without work. They began to do their own contracting to sell their products. They were able to hire more people. Eventually they began to bid for government contracts to do road work. What began as a way of providing for their own needs became the means of providing for a whole village. They are amazing women who found their voice.
Our First Nations people are beginning to find their voices. They need our support. They need us to learn their history so that we can understand the systemic nature of the abuse that caused their current circumstances. Our Canadian history is a sad one about broken treaties, about depriving people of their human rights, about causing disease and hardship, about taking away a rich cultural heritage. They continue to suffer. Homelessness, lack of affordable housing, health care issues, violence against women, child poverty – these things are a National disgrace. A First Nations woman up at Curve Lake said to me, “You know, it took seven generations to get us into this cyclical mess. It will take seven generations for us to find our way back.
But they are doing exactly that. This community took part in an appeal for clean water for Pikangikum a few years back. I read an article this week about their new school, finally completed ten years after the old school was destroyed in a fire. There are also talks about finally giving equal funding to First Nations schools who at the moment receive thirty percent less than those funded by the provinces. Our First Nations people are beginning to find their voices. Thankfully the Anglican Church is part of that change.
Many in our world are hoping for peace and justice. It must seem for them a long time in coming. There is Jeremiah’s voice, reminding us of that God of love whom we worship, calling out across the ages, “The days are surely coming! I will sow with the seed of humans and the seed of animals.” What a wonderfully hopeful word ‘sow’ is! It speaks of future hope and possibility. It speaks of nurture and growth. It speaks of change brought about by justice. It speaks of a world where God reigns. And there too is the widow, her nagging voice calling out for justice, for redressing the wrongs of the past. How can we fail to hear such a voice? Let us join in her call for justice. Let us persist in the faith, knowing that God is constantly showing us new and just ways to live.
Saturday, October 15, 2016
Saturday, October 8, 2016
Harvest Thanksgiving Year C
The Lord Make Us Truly Thankful
Readings: Deuteronomy 26:1-11; Psalm 100; Philippians 4:4-9; John 6:25-35
North American Thanksgiving looks much the same on either side of the border. It is a family time as people come together to over indulge in turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy and pumpkin pie. We may even remember to say grace as we consider the bounty on the table.
And somehow most Canadians seem to have adopted the myth that the first Thanksgiving dates back to Plymouth Rock. In reality, we have an older tradition in Canada dating back some forty years prior to the American story. Furthermore, our story does not have the same association with tragedy. It also comes with an Anglican twist.
On 22 July 1578 the Rev. Robert Wolfall, chaplain to the third Frobisher expedition, celebrated the Eucharist on board the ship “Judith”. The ship’s captain Edward Fenton noted in his journal: “Tewsdaie, the xxiiith daie: we did receave the Communion altogether, contynewing that daie in prayer and thanks giving to god.” The Calendar for the Book of Alternative Services commemorates the “First Anglican Eucharist in Canada, 1578” on the 4th of September.
For All the Saints concludes its description of this event saying: “Frobisher decided to give up the idea of establishing a permanent settlement on Baffin Island and took the entire fleet back to England in mid-September. Almost a century would pass before the Anglicans again celebrated the Eucharist on Canadian soil”.
Apparently following Eucharist they ate a rather humble meal of salt beef, rock-hard crackers and mushy peas. That is what they had in their larder for the first Thanksgiving on what would become Canadian soil. I doubt that it would ever have taken hold as Thanksgiving fare.
For our First Nations people, the idea of celebrating Thanksgiving on one particular day is ludicrous. The giving of thanks they can understand. In their culture, they give thanks to the Creator every day. After picking berries or hunting they offer tobacco and give thanks for the sacrifice. They give thanks for clean air to breathe, for clean water to drink, for good health.
Our Celtic forebears had a similar worldview. Their prayers accompanied the thoughts and actions of each day as they went about their daily tasks, continuously acknowledging the God of all creation.
The notion that we in North America invented Thanksgiving is ludicrous. In reality Thanksgiving ceremonies go back to the beginning of time. The earliest rituals deal with the gathering of the community to eat together and to give thanks to the creator.
That is the setting for the passage from today’s Old Testament reading. The passage from Deuteronomy gives instructions for the festival of the first fruits, an ancient Hebrew Thanksgiving celebration. It is one that still goes on today.
I lived for a time in a part of North York that is predominantly Jewish. I was startled my first year there during the fall when my neighbours turned their patio into something that resembled a tree house. It seemed to be a fairly permanent structure. They decorated it lavishly with plants and dried leaves. I finally got up the courage to ask what they were up to. They explained that for a week they would be celebrating Sukkot, the harvest. I was invited to a sumptuous feast that took place on the patio. During the course of the evening, they retold the story, much as we read it in Deuteronomy today.
Repeating the words about wandering in the desert, and about God providing manna for them to eat, they thanked God for all the gifts they had received. "God," they said, "has heard our prayers. God has brought us to this rich and fertile country. God has saved us from oppression and want." They praised the God of history who has been with them through the ages, providing them with spiritual sustenance. And remembering what it was like to be a stranger in a strange land, they offered hospitality to those, like myself, whom they had invited to share in the festivities.
I was touched by how much the recalling of the story meant to that Jewish family. Centuries later, in a different time and space, they still recount the wanderings in the wilderness. They remember it, not as a time of bitterness, but as a time of closeness to God, of intimacy. It is the golden age of their innocency. It calls them to return to the ancient, simple and loyal faith. It gives them opportunity to reflect that everything they have is an inheritance from God. Everything belongs to God and is given freely for their use.
And that calls them, in turn, to open up their hearts to those in need. There is a sense of cooperation between God and them. God will continue to provide. They will continue to help others.
I suspect that to be truly thankful for what we have we need that sense of history. We need a story that draws us together as community. Our Christian story is certainly such a one. We come together as community. We give thanks. We break bread. We share together. We ask ourselves how we too can share fresh bread with others. At the heart of what we do at worship together, bread and wine are taken and blessed. They are the fruit of the earth. God's promises have again been fulfilled. Seedtime and harvest go on producing food for us.
The bread and wine are products of our hands. People make that bread and produce that wine. In bringing food and drink as an offering to God we are enacting the deepest facet of human experience. We are acknowledging our dependence upon the Creator and Sustainer of all things. We are putting our trust in God and thanking our Creator for all that we have.
Yet we can easily lose sight of the ordinariness of the food and drink we offer. We can become mesmerized by them. We can be taken up by the words and the actions. We can bury our heads in our prayer books and fail to know and understand our obligation as we break bread. Our obligation is to the poor, to the disenfranchised, to those who suffer, to the alien, to the stranger in our midst.
We know well that obligation. Yet it is very easy to pass it off, to expect that social agencies should deal with hunger. Yet clearly, the gospel message points out our obligation to be good stewards of all that God has created and to share our bounty with those who are in need.
Today's gospel is no exception. Jesus continues to provide for those in need. He continues to offer bread for hungry people. Jesus is being hounded, much like a modern rock star. He has fed five thousand people. The crowds find him. He tries to explain that their reasons for seeking him out are the wrong ones. The bread and fish he gave them will not solve their problems. They will get hungry again. “But my way of living!” he is saying, “That can change everything!”
There is much hunger in our world, and it isn’t all about food. Many hunger for love, acceptance, life and truth. The North American way of life is to try to satisfy our hungers in material ways. We come to services to give thanks for such things. I hope that today we will go away filled with what our true thanksgiving is. I hope we will go away thinking about what we can contribute.
We live in an age of spectaculars and extravaganzas with glitter and glamour, and yet some of the most splendid moments are quite common and simple – a glass of cold water when you are hot and thirsty, a kind word, an embrace or a touch given with sincerity. These are the things that really matter. No act of love is so small that it is insignificant. This Thanksgiving can we be satisfied with smaller things?
In the world there are many who are hungry. There are many who are in exile. There are many who are so caught up in despair that they can think of no justifiable reason to give thanks. As Christians we need to be aware of them all, and to address their physical needs as generously and bountifully as Jesus did when he fed the five thousand. We also need to celebrate the God who gives us much to be thankful for, even in the midst of a broken world.
When Jesus becomes the Bread of Life for us, we become bread to others about us. This becomes our purpose in life and gives present, perpetual and eternal meaning to life. It gives real reason to give thanks. Amen.
Readings: Deuteronomy 26:1-11; Psalm 100; Philippians 4:4-9; John 6:25-35
North American Thanksgiving looks much the same on either side of the border. It is a family time as people come together to over indulge in turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy and pumpkin pie. We may even remember to say grace as we consider the bounty on the table.
And somehow most Canadians seem to have adopted the myth that the first Thanksgiving dates back to Plymouth Rock. In reality, we have an older tradition in Canada dating back some forty years prior to the American story. Furthermore, our story does not have the same association with tragedy. It also comes with an Anglican twist.
On 22 July 1578 the Rev. Robert Wolfall, chaplain to the third Frobisher expedition, celebrated the Eucharist on board the ship “Judith”. The ship’s captain Edward Fenton noted in his journal: “Tewsdaie, the xxiiith daie: we did receave the Communion altogether, contynewing that daie in prayer and thanks giving to god.” The Calendar for the Book of Alternative Services commemorates the “First Anglican Eucharist in Canada, 1578” on the 4th of September.
For All the Saints concludes its description of this event saying: “Frobisher decided to give up the idea of establishing a permanent settlement on Baffin Island and took the entire fleet back to England in mid-September. Almost a century would pass before the Anglicans again celebrated the Eucharist on Canadian soil”.
Apparently following Eucharist they ate a rather humble meal of salt beef, rock-hard crackers and mushy peas. That is what they had in their larder for the first Thanksgiving on what would become Canadian soil. I doubt that it would ever have taken hold as Thanksgiving fare.
For our First Nations people, the idea of celebrating Thanksgiving on one particular day is ludicrous. The giving of thanks they can understand. In their culture, they give thanks to the Creator every day. After picking berries or hunting they offer tobacco and give thanks for the sacrifice. They give thanks for clean air to breathe, for clean water to drink, for good health.
Our Celtic forebears had a similar worldview. Their prayers accompanied the thoughts and actions of each day as they went about their daily tasks, continuously acknowledging the God of all creation.
The notion that we in North America invented Thanksgiving is ludicrous. In reality Thanksgiving ceremonies go back to the beginning of time. The earliest rituals deal with the gathering of the community to eat together and to give thanks to the creator.
That is the setting for the passage from today’s Old Testament reading. The passage from Deuteronomy gives instructions for the festival of the first fruits, an ancient Hebrew Thanksgiving celebration. It is one that still goes on today.
I lived for a time in a part of North York that is predominantly Jewish. I was startled my first year there during the fall when my neighbours turned their patio into something that resembled a tree house. It seemed to be a fairly permanent structure. They decorated it lavishly with plants and dried leaves. I finally got up the courage to ask what they were up to. They explained that for a week they would be celebrating Sukkot, the harvest. I was invited to a sumptuous feast that took place on the patio. During the course of the evening, they retold the story, much as we read it in Deuteronomy today.
Repeating the words about wandering in the desert, and about God providing manna for them to eat, they thanked God for all the gifts they had received. "God," they said, "has heard our prayers. God has brought us to this rich and fertile country. God has saved us from oppression and want." They praised the God of history who has been with them through the ages, providing them with spiritual sustenance. And remembering what it was like to be a stranger in a strange land, they offered hospitality to those, like myself, whom they had invited to share in the festivities.
I was touched by how much the recalling of the story meant to that Jewish family. Centuries later, in a different time and space, they still recount the wanderings in the wilderness. They remember it, not as a time of bitterness, but as a time of closeness to God, of intimacy. It is the golden age of their innocency. It calls them to return to the ancient, simple and loyal faith. It gives them opportunity to reflect that everything they have is an inheritance from God. Everything belongs to God and is given freely for their use.
And that calls them, in turn, to open up their hearts to those in need. There is a sense of cooperation between God and them. God will continue to provide. They will continue to help others.
I suspect that to be truly thankful for what we have we need that sense of history. We need a story that draws us together as community. Our Christian story is certainly such a one. We come together as community. We give thanks. We break bread. We share together. We ask ourselves how we too can share fresh bread with others. At the heart of what we do at worship together, bread and wine are taken and blessed. They are the fruit of the earth. God's promises have again been fulfilled. Seedtime and harvest go on producing food for us.
The bread and wine are products of our hands. People make that bread and produce that wine. In bringing food and drink as an offering to God we are enacting the deepest facet of human experience. We are acknowledging our dependence upon the Creator and Sustainer of all things. We are putting our trust in God and thanking our Creator for all that we have.
Yet we can easily lose sight of the ordinariness of the food and drink we offer. We can become mesmerized by them. We can be taken up by the words and the actions. We can bury our heads in our prayer books and fail to know and understand our obligation as we break bread. Our obligation is to the poor, to the disenfranchised, to those who suffer, to the alien, to the stranger in our midst.
We know well that obligation. Yet it is very easy to pass it off, to expect that social agencies should deal with hunger. Yet clearly, the gospel message points out our obligation to be good stewards of all that God has created and to share our bounty with those who are in need.
Today's gospel is no exception. Jesus continues to provide for those in need. He continues to offer bread for hungry people. Jesus is being hounded, much like a modern rock star. He has fed five thousand people. The crowds find him. He tries to explain that their reasons for seeking him out are the wrong ones. The bread and fish he gave them will not solve their problems. They will get hungry again. “But my way of living!” he is saying, “That can change everything!”
There is much hunger in our world, and it isn’t all about food. Many hunger for love, acceptance, life and truth. The North American way of life is to try to satisfy our hungers in material ways. We come to services to give thanks for such things. I hope that today we will go away filled with what our true thanksgiving is. I hope we will go away thinking about what we can contribute.
We live in an age of spectaculars and extravaganzas with glitter and glamour, and yet some of the most splendid moments are quite common and simple – a glass of cold water when you are hot and thirsty, a kind word, an embrace or a touch given with sincerity. These are the things that really matter. No act of love is so small that it is insignificant. This Thanksgiving can we be satisfied with smaller things?
In the world there are many who are hungry. There are many who are in exile. There are many who are so caught up in despair that they can think of no justifiable reason to give thanks. As Christians we need to be aware of them all, and to address their physical needs as generously and bountifully as Jesus did when he fed the five thousand. We also need to celebrate the God who gives us much to be thankful for, even in the midst of a broken world.
When Jesus becomes the Bread of Life for us, we become bread to others about us. This becomes our purpose in life and gives present, perpetual and eternal meaning to life. It gives real reason to give thanks. Amen.
Saturday, August 27, 2016
15th Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 22, Year C
Free Grace, Undying Love
Readings: Jer 2:4-13; Isa; 81:1, 10-16; Heb 13:1-8, 15-16; Luke 14:1, 7-14
I had a wonderful family from Newfoundland in one of my parishes. They were larger than life in every way. They loved to have a good time; they also loved to be at church. Their faith was extremely important to them. One of their sons fell in love and was to be married. A church wedding was important to both young people. The young woman’s family was not happy with the match to say the least. They considered themselves to be of a much higher station in life. It made for an interesting wedding.
The church was packed with people from both sides of the family as well as with parishioners. It was not difficult to see which family was which. That became especially apparent at the reception, which was held in a posh private club of which the bride’s family were members. There was, of course, a head table with the young people and their wedding party. It was a true mixture of both families, all getting along famously. When it came to the guests, there was a noticeable divide. The bride’s family and friends were all seated decorously on one side of the hall. The groom’s family and friends were on the other side, and there was nothing decorous about them. They were laughing and talking and enjoying one another’s company.
When I came into the hall I was ushered over to sit with the family from my parish amidst great enthusiasm. After saying grace – seems to fall to the lot of the clergy – I went back to my place with them. The father of the bride came over and in a hushed voice suggested I might be more comfortable seated with them. I declined as politely as possible. I was having far too much fun to want to move. I did hear later that he was “deeply insulted” by my actions.
It seems a nice parallel to a party that Jesus went to. He is invited for the Sabbath meal at the home of a Pharisee, obviously of high standing in the community. His first act on arriving is to heal a man. Remember! It is the Sabbath! To add insult to injury, he puts the host’s guests on the spot. He is reacting to the raised eyebrows and silent looks of disapproval at the healing. At the same time, he has noticed them vying for the place of honour at the dinner party. Who is going to sit nearest the head table? Who will catch the eye of the hosts? At last everyone is seated. They are waiting for some pleasantries from the host. Instead they hear the voice of Jesus, calm but authoritative, as he reminds them of their manners.
“When you are invited to a party,” he tells them, “don’t demand the best place. Take the lowest place. Otherwise when someone really important comes along you may find that you have lost your spot. Wait to be invited to come to the head table,” he tells them. He is recalling his vision of God’s realm where the last will be first and the first last.
How embarrassed they must have felt as they heard the truth of Jesus’ words! How resentful! How furious! Wouldn’t you love to hear the conversation as they made their way home? “What a radical that Jesus is!” I can hear them saying. “Who gave him the right to judge us? Did you see the riff raff he was sitting with?”
And as if that isn’t enough, he then takes on the host. He contradicts the ‘me first’ attitude of his guests. “When you have a dinner party, don’t invite important people simply to get repaid. Invite the poor and the needy. Invite the ones who cannot repay you. Invite the ones who really need it.” How angry the host must have felt! Here you invite a guest into your home, you wine and dine him, and then he turns on you and calls you a hypocrite.
We are called as Christians to hold on to the higher values that are so easily lost in time and society. It is true of all times, but most particularly, I suspect of our own. It is startling to hear that message speaking so clearly to us from scripture. There is Jesus, friend of outcasts and sinners, reminding us that love of God and love of neighbour transcend any other law.
The same concerns are voiced in the other readings. Jeremiah questions the values and standards of his society. Like Jesus, he is either very courageous or really crazy. He begins by challenging the priests for not pressing the people to follow the faith. He then challenges the lawyers for the way they handle the law. He takes on the politicians for their lack of action. Finally he goes after the other prophets of his day, making enemies of every sector of society. But then if one is truly going to transform society then it is a necessary step in making change.
In our own day as in that of Jeremiah we see the erosion of long-held values and beliefs. Social norms concerning family and community have changed. Consider the impact of infrastructures like social media on society. We now live in a global economy where a few individuals control most of the world’s wealth. Nations are financially interdependent. Look at the near bankruptcy of Greece and even more recently, the impact Brexit has had on the global economy. Beyond that, we live in a society that is dependent on consumerism. We need to ask the question that Jeremiah was asking. “Are these new ‘gods’ really viable, or are they ‘no gods’?
It is a question that the writer of the letter to the Hebrews may very well have been asking. He offers a list of what it means to live the way God wants us to, the essentials for living in community: mutual love, hospitality, remembering those in prison and those being tortured, holding marriage in honour, being content with what we have, remembering our leaders, and finally doing good and sharing what we have. It is a practical list, far more about our actions and behaviour as Christians than it is about our faith.
It gives us a pretty clear picture of what life in a Christian community should be like. It should be a community where there is empathy one towards another. We need to support one another in faith. We need to support our clergy. We need to be a welcoming and caring community. We need to understand that while wealth is not wrong, to reduce life and love and loyalty to money considerations is. Material things can become gods for us until they are ‘no gods’.
All of this strikes home about our hypocritical society. Jeremiah is not simply speaking about the people of Israel spurning the generosity of God and pursuing worthless goals. Jesus is not just a radical voice speaking out against the Pharisees and their hypocrisy. These are contemporary voices speaking to us across the ages about the way we live. Like the Hebrews we need radical guidelines about how to live as Christians in a secular world. Are we taking the best seats in the banquet hall while the rest of humanity goes uninvited?
Jesus, if we are willing to listen and follow, is revealing to us who God truly is. The way he lived his life opens to us a God who does not pick the place of honour at the table, but rather becomes a servant. How do we understand Jesus’ words, “All those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted”? How do we even understand the essence of true humility? What does it mean to be humble?
For that matter what doesn’t it mean? It doesn’t call on us to put ourselves down. It also doesn’t mean that there is an equal rate of exchange between God and us. In God’s kingdom we come before God with empty hands and God fills them. Everything is gift. Everything is grace. Free grace, undying love!
What about our own work in the community? What do we do to invest in relationships and causes that are not self-serving? How open are our churches? Are we welcoming? Are we just as welcoming to those in need as we are to those who have much? Are we welcoming to everybody? What issues of justice should we as a faith community be tackling? Are there homeless in our midst? Are there those who go hungry? Are we welcoming to people no matter what their sexual orientation? How do we become advocates of change?
The worst thing we can do is to think that we cannot be agents of change, that we cannot do anything about it. We can respond to the needs of others with the same generosity with which God deals with us. We can be the ones who volunteer time and talent on behalf of the marginalized. We can be the calm, authoritative voice of Jesus at the dinner party naming the hypocrisy of our society. When we open our doors and throw a party, when we reach out in ministry and mission, we have to be willing to take some risks. Results aren’t the point of our hospitality. It isn’t about honour, glory and reward. Ultimately we will find ourselves guests at that banquet table in the kingdom.
Readings: Jer 2:4-13; Isa; 81:1, 10-16; Heb 13:1-8, 15-16; Luke 14:1, 7-14
I had a wonderful family from Newfoundland in one of my parishes. They were larger than life in every way. They loved to have a good time; they also loved to be at church. Their faith was extremely important to them. One of their sons fell in love and was to be married. A church wedding was important to both young people. The young woman’s family was not happy with the match to say the least. They considered themselves to be of a much higher station in life. It made for an interesting wedding.
The church was packed with people from both sides of the family as well as with parishioners. It was not difficult to see which family was which. That became especially apparent at the reception, which was held in a posh private club of which the bride’s family were members. There was, of course, a head table with the young people and their wedding party. It was a true mixture of both families, all getting along famously. When it came to the guests, there was a noticeable divide. The bride’s family and friends were all seated decorously on one side of the hall. The groom’s family and friends were on the other side, and there was nothing decorous about them. They were laughing and talking and enjoying one another’s company.
When I came into the hall I was ushered over to sit with the family from my parish amidst great enthusiasm. After saying grace – seems to fall to the lot of the clergy – I went back to my place with them. The father of the bride came over and in a hushed voice suggested I might be more comfortable seated with them. I declined as politely as possible. I was having far too much fun to want to move. I did hear later that he was “deeply insulted” by my actions.
It seems a nice parallel to a party that Jesus went to. He is invited for the Sabbath meal at the home of a Pharisee, obviously of high standing in the community. His first act on arriving is to heal a man. Remember! It is the Sabbath! To add insult to injury, he puts the host’s guests on the spot. He is reacting to the raised eyebrows and silent looks of disapproval at the healing. At the same time, he has noticed them vying for the place of honour at the dinner party. Who is going to sit nearest the head table? Who will catch the eye of the hosts? At last everyone is seated. They are waiting for some pleasantries from the host. Instead they hear the voice of Jesus, calm but authoritative, as he reminds them of their manners.
“When you are invited to a party,” he tells them, “don’t demand the best place. Take the lowest place. Otherwise when someone really important comes along you may find that you have lost your spot. Wait to be invited to come to the head table,” he tells them. He is recalling his vision of God’s realm where the last will be first and the first last.
How embarrassed they must have felt as they heard the truth of Jesus’ words! How resentful! How furious! Wouldn’t you love to hear the conversation as they made their way home? “What a radical that Jesus is!” I can hear them saying. “Who gave him the right to judge us? Did you see the riff raff he was sitting with?”
And as if that isn’t enough, he then takes on the host. He contradicts the ‘me first’ attitude of his guests. “When you have a dinner party, don’t invite important people simply to get repaid. Invite the poor and the needy. Invite the ones who cannot repay you. Invite the ones who really need it.” How angry the host must have felt! Here you invite a guest into your home, you wine and dine him, and then he turns on you and calls you a hypocrite.
We are called as Christians to hold on to the higher values that are so easily lost in time and society. It is true of all times, but most particularly, I suspect of our own. It is startling to hear that message speaking so clearly to us from scripture. There is Jesus, friend of outcasts and sinners, reminding us that love of God and love of neighbour transcend any other law.
The same concerns are voiced in the other readings. Jeremiah questions the values and standards of his society. Like Jesus, he is either very courageous or really crazy. He begins by challenging the priests for not pressing the people to follow the faith. He then challenges the lawyers for the way they handle the law. He takes on the politicians for their lack of action. Finally he goes after the other prophets of his day, making enemies of every sector of society. But then if one is truly going to transform society then it is a necessary step in making change.
In our own day as in that of Jeremiah we see the erosion of long-held values and beliefs. Social norms concerning family and community have changed. Consider the impact of infrastructures like social media on society. We now live in a global economy where a few individuals control most of the world’s wealth. Nations are financially interdependent. Look at the near bankruptcy of Greece and even more recently, the impact Brexit has had on the global economy. Beyond that, we live in a society that is dependent on consumerism. We need to ask the question that Jeremiah was asking. “Are these new ‘gods’ really viable, or are they ‘no gods’?
It is a question that the writer of the letter to the Hebrews may very well have been asking. He offers a list of what it means to live the way God wants us to, the essentials for living in community: mutual love, hospitality, remembering those in prison and those being tortured, holding marriage in honour, being content with what we have, remembering our leaders, and finally doing good and sharing what we have. It is a practical list, far more about our actions and behaviour as Christians than it is about our faith.
It gives us a pretty clear picture of what life in a Christian community should be like. It should be a community where there is empathy one towards another. We need to support one another in faith. We need to support our clergy. We need to be a welcoming and caring community. We need to understand that while wealth is not wrong, to reduce life and love and loyalty to money considerations is. Material things can become gods for us until they are ‘no gods’.
All of this strikes home about our hypocritical society. Jeremiah is not simply speaking about the people of Israel spurning the generosity of God and pursuing worthless goals. Jesus is not just a radical voice speaking out against the Pharisees and their hypocrisy. These are contemporary voices speaking to us across the ages about the way we live. Like the Hebrews we need radical guidelines about how to live as Christians in a secular world. Are we taking the best seats in the banquet hall while the rest of humanity goes uninvited?
Jesus, if we are willing to listen and follow, is revealing to us who God truly is. The way he lived his life opens to us a God who does not pick the place of honour at the table, but rather becomes a servant. How do we understand Jesus’ words, “All those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted”? How do we even understand the essence of true humility? What does it mean to be humble?
For that matter what doesn’t it mean? It doesn’t call on us to put ourselves down. It also doesn’t mean that there is an equal rate of exchange between God and us. In God’s kingdom we come before God with empty hands and God fills them. Everything is gift. Everything is grace. Free grace, undying love!
What about our own work in the community? What do we do to invest in relationships and causes that are not self-serving? How open are our churches? Are we welcoming? Are we just as welcoming to those in need as we are to those who have much? Are we welcoming to everybody? What issues of justice should we as a faith community be tackling? Are there homeless in our midst? Are there those who go hungry? Are we welcoming to people no matter what their sexual orientation? How do we become advocates of change?
The worst thing we can do is to think that we cannot be agents of change, that we cannot do anything about it. We can respond to the needs of others with the same generosity with which God deals with us. We can be the ones who volunteer time and talent on behalf of the marginalized. We can be the calm, authoritative voice of Jesus at the dinner party naming the hypocrisy of our society. When we open our doors and throw a party, when we reach out in ministry and mission, we have to be willing to take some risks. Results aren’t the point of our hospitality. It isn’t about honour, glory and reward. Ultimately we will find ourselves guests at that banquet table in the kingdom.
Saturday, August 20, 2016
14th Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 21, Year C
Bent Out of Shape
Readings: Jeremiah 1:4-10; Psalm 71:1-6; Hebrew 12:18-29; Luke 13:10-17
After eighteen years of being bent over in pain, the woman could scarcely remember any other way of seeing the world. To see anything but the ground, she had to cock her head like a bird. Even that twisting of her head caused enormous pain. What an agony it was to be “unable to stand up straight”, to be unable to look another person in the eye. She went as usual on the Sabbath to the synagogue to worship, but this time there was a special excitement in the place. A Galilean preacher and prophet, Jesus, had arrived in town and would be teaching there. She had heard stories about him – not only about his teachings about God’s grace, but about how he went about healing the sick. She tried not to get her hopes up. After all, her life had been one disappointment after another.
As she entered the synagogue, the place was buzzing with excitement, but a hush fell over the place as soon as Jesus began to speak. Then he caught her eye – not an easy thing to do. He had to bend over and turn his head to see into her face. The invitation was unmistakeable. “Come up here with me!” he said to her. Still bent nearly double, she made her way with him to the front of the synagogue.
“Woman, you are set free from your ailment,” Jesus said to her. He put his hands on her broken, bent body. She felt power surging through her. She straightened her back and stood tall for the first time in years. “Praise God!” she said as the whole crowd rose to their feet in stunned silence.
It did not last long. The silence quickly changed to accusations against Jesus. The leader of the synagogue was totally bent out of shape by Jesus’ compassion. “You broke the law,” he said, accusingly. “The law prohibits you from healing on the Sabbath. This woman could have waited until tomorrow to be healed. She is in no imminent danger.” The crowd murmured their consent. The law is the law after all.
“You hypocrites!” Jesus argued. “The law allows people to provide for their animals on the Sabbath. If you can be merciful to an animal, should you not be even more merciful to a human being? Don’t you understand? The liberating power of God cannot wait. What better day to bring freedom than on the Sabbath? To liberate this woman fulfills the purpose of the Sabbath.” Jesus is not saying the law has no merit. Jesus is saying that compassion and mercy take precedence, even over the law.
We can so easily get bent out of shape. Perhaps we suffer from chronic pain or sickness. Or we are bent over with all the worries and cares of life. Or we suffer under a burden of oppression. Or we cannot sense that God could possibly forgive us for the wrongs that we have committed in our lives. Or we are just weary of all that life has thrown at us.
And it is not just physical ailments that cripple us. We can be spiritually blind, spiritually sick, spiritually doubled over. When we are, everything becomes difficult for us. We get so bent out of shape that we cannot relate to God or to our neighbours. We cannot understand the great breadth of God’s loving compassion. We cannot fathom that God’s grace is freely given to us. We think it is earned by following the letter of the law. We dot our I’s and cross our T’s and become indignant when someone we deem unworthy receives God’s grace. We need to get our faith straightened out. We need to get right with God.
Religious systems get bent out of shape. You do not have to look very far to see the dysfunction in the religious system of Jesus’ day. But then we do not need to look very far to see it in our own faith communities. Many see God as the one who upholds the rules and wreaks havoc on those who disobey. It is the kind of thinking that suggests that sickness is punishment from God. It is the kind of thinking that causes homophobia, sexism, racism. It is the kind of thinking that blames victims. For me the real point of the healing of this woman is that God is not a rule maker who takes vengeance on us for every little misdemeanour in our lives. God is the lover who bends over backwards to show us how to live, to help in our transformation as the people of God.
Congregations – good, well-meaning church people – can be just as rigid in their thinking. They can get bent out of shape over the liturgy not being exactly as they want it. Or the clergy not doing things the way they think they should be done. Or members of the congregation who do not seem to them to be “Christian’ in their behaviour.
I share with you a joke I heard not long ago. A man, obviously under the influence of alcohol entered a church just in time for the service. The sidesperson on duty rather reluctantly showed him to a seat near the back. He declined and headed up to the front seat right under the pulpit. As the priest launched into the sermon, the man really got into the spirit of things. “Amen!” he shouted as loudly as he could. “Praise the Lord! Hallelujah!” after almost every word the preacher uttered. After a few glaring looks from the preacher, the sidesperson came forward to where the man was sitting.
“You’re making too much noise!” he said to him, and taking him by the arm he escorted him out of the church.
“Well brother! I’ve got the Holy Spirit!” the man shouted.
“You didn’t get it here, so you’ve got to leave!”
The shame of rigid religion is that in God’ name it often does no good. The result, in fact is that it does real harm. Jesus models the kind of compassionate action to which a genuine relationship to God should direct our lives. God’s love does not play by the rules of formal religion. Rules do not regulate God.
The writer of Hebrews is reflecting on that same view. He contrasts the Old Testament image of God with the Christian view. He is thinking of the events that occurred on Mount Sinai as Moses received the law. It presents a terrifying image of God, a threatening picture in stark contrast to what is to come. That image of God as judge gives way to the figure of Jesus, one that suggests familiarity, support, welcome, even intimacy. We come to the mountain, not to be stoned to death, but to a place of reconciliation, of forgiveness, of love. Grace has taken over where trembling, terrifying fear once occupied the hearts of men and women in their relationship to God. That allows us to enter the holiest of places without fear.
Jesus’ primary concern was that we should love and care for one another. That changes everything. It is no longer just about following rules. It is about transforming God’s world. It is about love. Love heals. Love forgives. Love sets us free to be everything that God calls us to be. That is amazing grace. So let us bend over backwards to live with a sense of God’s great compassion and love.
Readings: Jeremiah 1:4-10; Psalm 71:1-6; Hebrew 12:18-29; Luke 13:10-17
After eighteen years of being bent over in pain, the woman could scarcely remember any other way of seeing the world. To see anything but the ground, she had to cock her head like a bird. Even that twisting of her head caused enormous pain. What an agony it was to be “unable to stand up straight”, to be unable to look another person in the eye. She went as usual on the Sabbath to the synagogue to worship, but this time there was a special excitement in the place. A Galilean preacher and prophet, Jesus, had arrived in town and would be teaching there. She had heard stories about him – not only about his teachings about God’s grace, but about how he went about healing the sick. She tried not to get her hopes up. After all, her life had been one disappointment after another.
As she entered the synagogue, the place was buzzing with excitement, but a hush fell over the place as soon as Jesus began to speak. Then he caught her eye – not an easy thing to do. He had to bend over and turn his head to see into her face. The invitation was unmistakeable. “Come up here with me!” he said to her. Still bent nearly double, she made her way with him to the front of the synagogue.
“Woman, you are set free from your ailment,” Jesus said to her. He put his hands on her broken, bent body. She felt power surging through her. She straightened her back and stood tall for the first time in years. “Praise God!” she said as the whole crowd rose to their feet in stunned silence.
It did not last long. The silence quickly changed to accusations against Jesus. The leader of the synagogue was totally bent out of shape by Jesus’ compassion. “You broke the law,” he said, accusingly. “The law prohibits you from healing on the Sabbath. This woman could have waited until tomorrow to be healed. She is in no imminent danger.” The crowd murmured their consent. The law is the law after all.
“You hypocrites!” Jesus argued. “The law allows people to provide for their animals on the Sabbath. If you can be merciful to an animal, should you not be even more merciful to a human being? Don’t you understand? The liberating power of God cannot wait. What better day to bring freedom than on the Sabbath? To liberate this woman fulfills the purpose of the Sabbath.” Jesus is not saying the law has no merit. Jesus is saying that compassion and mercy take precedence, even over the law.
We can so easily get bent out of shape. Perhaps we suffer from chronic pain or sickness. Or we are bent over with all the worries and cares of life. Or we suffer under a burden of oppression. Or we cannot sense that God could possibly forgive us for the wrongs that we have committed in our lives. Or we are just weary of all that life has thrown at us.
And it is not just physical ailments that cripple us. We can be spiritually blind, spiritually sick, spiritually doubled over. When we are, everything becomes difficult for us. We get so bent out of shape that we cannot relate to God or to our neighbours. We cannot understand the great breadth of God’s loving compassion. We cannot fathom that God’s grace is freely given to us. We think it is earned by following the letter of the law. We dot our I’s and cross our T’s and become indignant when someone we deem unworthy receives God’s grace. We need to get our faith straightened out. We need to get right with God.
Religious systems get bent out of shape. You do not have to look very far to see the dysfunction in the religious system of Jesus’ day. But then we do not need to look very far to see it in our own faith communities. Many see God as the one who upholds the rules and wreaks havoc on those who disobey. It is the kind of thinking that suggests that sickness is punishment from God. It is the kind of thinking that causes homophobia, sexism, racism. It is the kind of thinking that blames victims. For me the real point of the healing of this woman is that God is not a rule maker who takes vengeance on us for every little misdemeanour in our lives. God is the lover who bends over backwards to show us how to live, to help in our transformation as the people of God.
Congregations – good, well-meaning church people – can be just as rigid in their thinking. They can get bent out of shape over the liturgy not being exactly as they want it. Or the clergy not doing things the way they think they should be done. Or members of the congregation who do not seem to them to be “Christian’ in their behaviour.
I share with you a joke I heard not long ago. A man, obviously under the influence of alcohol entered a church just in time for the service. The sidesperson on duty rather reluctantly showed him to a seat near the back. He declined and headed up to the front seat right under the pulpit. As the priest launched into the sermon, the man really got into the spirit of things. “Amen!” he shouted as loudly as he could. “Praise the Lord! Hallelujah!” after almost every word the preacher uttered. After a few glaring looks from the preacher, the sidesperson came forward to where the man was sitting.
“You’re making too much noise!” he said to him, and taking him by the arm he escorted him out of the church.
“Well brother! I’ve got the Holy Spirit!” the man shouted.
“You didn’t get it here, so you’ve got to leave!”
The shame of rigid religion is that in God’ name it often does no good. The result, in fact is that it does real harm. Jesus models the kind of compassionate action to which a genuine relationship to God should direct our lives. God’s love does not play by the rules of formal religion. Rules do not regulate God.
The writer of Hebrews is reflecting on that same view. He contrasts the Old Testament image of God with the Christian view. He is thinking of the events that occurred on Mount Sinai as Moses received the law. It presents a terrifying image of God, a threatening picture in stark contrast to what is to come. That image of God as judge gives way to the figure of Jesus, one that suggests familiarity, support, welcome, even intimacy. We come to the mountain, not to be stoned to death, but to a place of reconciliation, of forgiveness, of love. Grace has taken over where trembling, terrifying fear once occupied the hearts of men and women in their relationship to God. That allows us to enter the holiest of places without fear.
Jesus’ primary concern was that we should love and care for one another. That changes everything. It is no longer just about following rules. It is about transforming God’s world. It is about love. Love heals. Love forgives. Love sets us free to be everything that God calls us to be. That is amazing grace. So let us bend over backwards to live with a sense of God’s great compassion and love.
Saturday, July 30, 2016
11th Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 18, Year C
When Does Need Become Greed
Readings: Hosea 11:1-11; Psalm 107:1-9, 43; Col 3:1-11; Luke 12:13-21
Ours is a very materialistic age. Our greed for “stuff” is insatiable. We buy, not because we need, but because we want. It is a sad commentary on our society that garbage is such an issue. It seems that greed is insatiable. It always wants more than a person can accumulate. There are even those who say that greed is a good thing. Ivan Boesky, a well-known stock trader defended greed in a commencement address at Berkley back in the 80’s. He said, “Greed is all right, by the way. I want you to know that. I think greed is healthy. You can be greedy and still feel good about yourself.”
Thomas Merton known primarily for his more than seventy books, was a Trappist monk. He was preparing to leave his monastery in Kentucky to live alone. It had taken him some time to convince his abbot that living the life of a hermit was the right thing for him. Then on top of that there was the ordeal of moving. He describes it in his diary. It was a time of emptying of closets, of cleaning out of files and of leaving items behind. Many useful things he gave away. Some things he burned – the kinds of things that accumulate but have no purpose in your life. As he lit the fire and then watched all that “stuff” burn up, he experienced a deep sense of liberation. In the ashes, he left behind his past and began his new life.
In contrast there was an article a few years back about Oprah Winfrey. In the course of the interview it came out that although she is one of the wealthiest women in the world, yet she feels insecure about her future. She worries that she does not have enough. She worries that she will lose everything and become poor again.
And if you look at Scripture, the problem is not totally new. Just exacerbated by our ability to produce wealth!
A man came to Jesus with a request. “Make my brother share the family inheritance with me,” he demands. Jesus looks behind the request to something deeper. The request, after all, is only a symptom. He could referee the situation and resolve the immediate issue. Nothing would really change. And so Jesus refuses to get embroiled in the argument.
Instead he tells a parable. There is a rich farmer whose land is so prosperous that he has nowhere to store his grain. He does the prudent thing. He builds new and bigger barns. This done, one might imagine that he would sit back and really enjoy life. But no! His sole aim is to amass as much grain as possible. The unthinkable happens. He dies suddenly and without warning.
“What really is the problem?” you may be asking yourself. “It was simply good management on his part. He worked hard his whole life. He made a success of himself. It is tragic that he died before he could really enjoy the benefits of his hard work.”
By telling the story, Jesus is pointing out some important things. Here is a person who is equating material success with spiritual progress. Like so many people, he is saying: “I am prosperous, so God must be blessing me, rewarding me.” He is regarding his possessions as the ultimate measure and value of his life. Possessions are not in and of themselves evil. They could be used responsibly and become a blessing to society in so many ways. They could do so much good. But if building up his empire is the end goal, then it has impoverished him spiritually.
Like Oprah, he is worrying that he does not have enough. What should be worrying him is whether or not he is becoming the person God intends him to be. He should be asking who he is.
It is a vivid parable, not about an evil person, but about a foolish one. There is no problem with looking working hard. There is no problem in being prudent. There is no problem in being successful. It is good planning. It is common sense. But we need to continually ask ourselves at what cost we are prosperous? At what cost has it come to my life? At what cost has it come to my country? At what cost has it come to the world? Who is suffering for my success? And then we need to do something about it. There is a danger in becoming too materialistic. It is tragic when things take precedence over God and spiritual values. How do we refocus, put things into their proper perspective, so that we do not lose out on divine meaning and purpose and its order and joy in our lives?
That makes it a very contemporary problem. As Canadians we enjoy the best that this world has to offer. In the whole scheme of things we may not consider ourselves to be wealthy. But who of us in this parish does not have enough? And let us be honest about what is enough. Enough to put food on the table! Enough to clothe ourselves! Enough to provide shelter for our families! Enough to educate ourselves! Enough to keep ourselves healthy! Enough to share! Even enough to dream!
What we cannot allow to happen is for the dreams to take over lives. When does ‘need’ become ‘greed’? It is when we begin to see our wants as needs that we are in peril of losing ourselves. Then we are in peril of losing our spiritual connection to God. We are “storing up treasures for ourselves but are not rich toward God”.
So how do we ensure that we are “rich toward God”? What would our parish life be like if we were truly “rich toward God”? Consider the riches of the members of this congregation. We have gifts and talents beyond measure. We have a lovely choir who offer their talents Sunday by Sunday. We have amazing readers who bring the Word of God alive. We have lay readers and servers who help to beautify our liturgies. We have people who are passionate about the environment. We have those who are advocates for justice. And we have people who give faithfully of their treasures. Otherwise we would not be able to open our doors.
But is there more that we could do? What riches do we bring to our local community? What do we bring in terms of knowledge, of income, of time? How can our gifts be used for the benefit of others? How are our gifts used to spread the message of the gospel?
We enjoy the abundance of God’s grace. Yet often we live as if we are impoverished. Let us, as a congregation, invest our time, our talents and our treasures wisely. Let us use our wealth to build up God’s realm. Let us be “rich toward God”!
Readings: Hosea 11:1-11; Psalm 107:1-9, 43; Col 3:1-11; Luke 12:13-21
Ours is a very materialistic age. Our greed for “stuff” is insatiable. We buy, not because we need, but because we want. It is a sad commentary on our society that garbage is such an issue. It seems that greed is insatiable. It always wants more than a person can accumulate. There are even those who say that greed is a good thing. Ivan Boesky, a well-known stock trader defended greed in a commencement address at Berkley back in the 80’s. He said, “Greed is all right, by the way. I want you to know that. I think greed is healthy. You can be greedy and still feel good about yourself.”
Thomas Merton known primarily for his more than seventy books, was a Trappist monk. He was preparing to leave his monastery in Kentucky to live alone. It had taken him some time to convince his abbot that living the life of a hermit was the right thing for him. Then on top of that there was the ordeal of moving. He describes it in his diary. It was a time of emptying of closets, of cleaning out of files and of leaving items behind. Many useful things he gave away. Some things he burned – the kinds of things that accumulate but have no purpose in your life. As he lit the fire and then watched all that “stuff” burn up, he experienced a deep sense of liberation. In the ashes, he left behind his past and began his new life.
In contrast there was an article a few years back about Oprah Winfrey. In the course of the interview it came out that although she is one of the wealthiest women in the world, yet she feels insecure about her future. She worries that she does not have enough. She worries that she will lose everything and become poor again.
And if you look at Scripture, the problem is not totally new. Just exacerbated by our ability to produce wealth!
A man came to Jesus with a request. “Make my brother share the family inheritance with me,” he demands. Jesus looks behind the request to something deeper. The request, after all, is only a symptom. He could referee the situation and resolve the immediate issue. Nothing would really change. And so Jesus refuses to get embroiled in the argument.
Instead he tells a parable. There is a rich farmer whose land is so prosperous that he has nowhere to store his grain. He does the prudent thing. He builds new and bigger barns. This done, one might imagine that he would sit back and really enjoy life. But no! His sole aim is to amass as much grain as possible. The unthinkable happens. He dies suddenly and without warning.
“What really is the problem?” you may be asking yourself. “It was simply good management on his part. He worked hard his whole life. He made a success of himself. It is tragic that he died before he could really enjoy the benefits of his hard work.”
By telling the story, Jesus is pointing out some important things. Here is a person who is equating material success with spiritual progress. Like so many people, he is saying: “I am prosperous, so God must be blessing me, rewarding me.” He is regarding his possessions as the ultimate measure and value of his life. Possessions are not in and of themselves evil. They could be used responsibly and become a blessing to society in so many ways. They could do so much good. But if building up his empire is the end goal, then it has impoverished him spiritually.
Like Oprah, he is worrying that he does not have enough. What should be worrying him is whether or not he is becoming the person God intends him to be. He should be asking who he is.
It is a vivid parable, not about an evil person, but about a foolish one. There is no problem with looking working hard. There is no problem in being prudent. There is no problem in being successful. It is good planning. It is common sense. But we need to continually ask ourselves at what cost we are prosperous? At what cost has it come to my life? At what cost has it come to my country? At what cost has it come to the world? Who is suffering for my success? And then we need to do something about it. There is a danger in becoming too materialistic. It is tragic when things take precedence over God and spiritual values. How do we refocus, put things into their proper perspective, so that we do not lose out on divine meaning and purpose and its order and joy in our lives?
That makes it a very contemporary problem. As Canadians we enjoy the best that this world has to offer. In the whole scheme of things we may not consider ourselves to be wealthy. But who of us in this parish does not have enough? And let us be honest about what is enough. Enough to put food on the table! Enough to clothe ourselves! Enough to provide shelter for our families! Enough to educate ourselves! Enough to keep ourselves healthy! Enough to share! Even enough to dream!
What we cannot allow to happen is for the dreams to take over lives. When does ‘need’ become ‘greed’? It is when we begin to see our wants as needs that we are in peril of losing ourselves. Then we are in peril of losing our spiritual connection to God. We are “storing up treasures for ourselves but are not rich toward God”.
So how do we ensure that we are “rich toward God”? What would our parish life be like if we were truly “rich toward God”? Consider the riches of the members of this congregation. We have gifts and talents beyond measure. We have a lovely choir who offer their talents Sunday by Sunday. We have amazing readers who bring the Word of God alive. We have lay readers and servers who help to beautify our liturgies. We have people who are passionate about the environment. We have those who are advocates for justice. And we have people who give faithfully of their treasures. Otherwise we would not be able to open our doors.
But is there more that we could do? What riches do we bring to our local community? What do we bring in terms of knowledge, of income, of time? How can our gifts be used for the benefit of others? How are our gifts used to spread the message of the gospel?
We enjoy the abundance of God’s grace. Yet often we live as if we are impoverished. Let us, as a congregation, invest our time, our talents and our treasures wisely. Let us use our wealth to build up God’s realm. Let us be “rich toward God”!
Saturday, July 23, 2016
The 10th Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 17, Year C
Lord, Teach us to Pray
Readings: Colossians 2:6-15 (16-19); Luke 11:1-13
Jesus was praying, Luke tells us, in a ‘certain place’. I imagine him to be on a rolling hill by the Sea of Galilee. His disciples watch him at prayer with some interest. They see the serenity surrounding him as he prays. They want that same sense of peace. “Teach us to pray,” they say to him. Jesus responds with a prayer from his Jewish roots, a prayer that very much reflects his thoughts about who God is and the place God has in his life. He addresses God as Father. His prayer begins, not with his needs, but with his relationship with God. He prays that God will meet his needs. He prays to be a forgiving person. He prays not to be tested by life more than he can endure. They know from his prayer that Jesus is in a loving and intimate relationship with God, a relationship in which they want to share.
How did you learn to pray? I suspect that most of us in this church today learned to pray from our parents. I would also suspect that what we really learned was how to say some prayers. Speaking for myself, I would kneel at the side of the bed as my mother heard my prayers, simple prayers taught to me by rote. Somewhere along the way I learned to say the Lord’s Prayer. It became a routine. I would rattle it off without thinking about what I was saying. You see, I had not really learned how to pray.
Jesus continues in his teaching about prayer by telling a story. It is a story that paints the portrait of a loving God and offers instances of human generosity and the motives behind it. He tells of a person who will get out of bed and supply a friend’s need, not because he wants to get out of bed, but because the friend is persistent. A traveller has arrived unexpectedly on the man’s doorstep. He has nothing to feed him. He goes to his neighbour and bangs on the door. He wants his neighbour to give him some of tomorrow’s fresh bread. The family has already retired for the night. The gate is locked. It causes no small interruption. It wakes up the children and the dogs. It is stretching friendship a bit far. Jesus points out that hospitality is important enough, and the shame of not providing it was so great, that the poor man will get up, reluctantly, to respond to the request.
He is pointing out a simple truth about prayer. It is not the words that we pray that bring about some magical change in our lives. It is our attitude towards prayer. Prayer is intended to bring us into a closer relationship with God. It gives us the inclination to place every aspect of our lives in God’s presence and offer it in prayer. That means it is not enough to simply rattle off our prayers without really thinking about what we are saying, without allowing the words of the prayer to change our lives.
That seems simple enough, but this passage of Scripture as with many passages creates some real difficulties for people. “For everyone who asks receives,” Jesus continues in his story, “and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.”
So Jesus, what do I say to the young woman who opens up to me telling me her story of years of sexual abuse at the hands of her father? “I prayed every day to God that he would stop, but he didn’t!” she told me. “Maybe I didn’t use the right words. It must have been my fault.”
What of the man suffering from years of depression who was convinced by a well-meaning friend to pray to God rather than take medication?
Or the young widow who prayed earnestly that her husband, dying of cancer would be healed. What do I tell her when she asks me, “Is it something he did? Am I being punished for my sins?”
What do I say to the family of the teenager hit by a car, praying desperately for a miracle as the doctor tells them that there is no hope and that life support is to be withdrawn?
What do we tell people whose loved ones have been massacred in one of too many attacks over the past few weeks?
Those fervent prayers cause crises of faith. Why did God not answer my prayer? Did God fail or did I? Is it lack of faith on my part? Did I do something wrong? Did I pray the wrong way or use the wrong words? Perhaps there is no God after all? And there are well-meaning people who are quick to blame victims for their lack of faith. What happens is part of the human tragedy. There are things that challenge our courage, trials of pain and suffering, of loss and bereavement. And all of us die. Some of us it is true, die all too young.
Jesus says that the answer lies in continuing to pray, in being persistent in our prayer life. In prayer we ask for what we need. We ask, not because God has some sort of ‘money-back’ guarantee. Nor is it about getting the pink Cadillac you have always wanted. We ask knowing that we are building a relationship with God. We ask knowing that God hears our prayers. We pray with a sense of assurance knowing that the gift of the Holy Spirit is a promise that God will keep. We pray in loving expectation for the responsive word of God to rise in our hearts.
As I reflect I think of three ways in which God responds to our prayers. All three are wonderful gifts. The first gift is the surprise we had not even considered asking for, but which delights us. God is constantly offering such gifts – a rainbow in the sky, a beautiful sunset, a kind glance from a friend, a smile from a stranger.
The second gift is just what we wanted. Sometimes God gives us what we want and pray for. Haven’t we all said, “That was an answer to prayer”? When that happens everything about it smacks of God. It happens at just the right time. We sometimes call it a coincidence, but for me it is God at work, a ‘God-incidence’.
The third gift is not at all what we wanted, but it becomes more valuable as we live with it. God may not respond to our prayers as we wish. We may hear God’s call through a word heard in passing. With time we may begin to value and understand God’s response. Sometimes we do not. In whatever way God succeeds in reaching into our hearts we may hear the voice of God. That gift of grace, that powerful love brings us to the feet of Jesus. There we sit quietly with him enjoying his company, knowing that God loves us and loving us cannot help but answer our prayer.
Jesus’ lesson to the disciples points out a deep truth. The answer to prayer comes about, not because we get it right, or because we are living better lives than everyone else. It is about persistence in prayer, not because we hope to tire God out in order to get what we want, but because in persisting we build a relationship with God. We make God a part of our lives. We make prayer a part of our lives. It becomes as natural to us as breathing. We open ourselves up to God and we let God do the rest. Amen
Readings: Colossians 2:6-15 (16-19); Luke 11:1-13
Jesus was praying, Luke tells us, in a ‘certain place’. I imagine him to be on a rolling hill by the Sea of Galilee. His disciples watch him at prayer with some interest. They see the serenity surrounding him as he prays. They want that same sense of peace. “Teach us to pray,” they say to him. Jesus responds with a prayer from his Jewish roots, a prayer that very much reflects his thoughts about who God is and the place God has in his life. He addresses God as Father. His prayer begins, not with his needs, but with his relationship with God. He prays that God will meet his needs. He prays to be a forgiving person. He prays not to be tested by life more than he can endure. They know from his prayer that Jesus is in a loving and intimate relationship with God, a relationship in which they want to share.
How did you learn to pray? I suspect that most of us in this church today learned to pray from our parents. I would also suspect that what we really learned was how to say some prayers. Speaking for myself, I would kneel at the side of the bed as my mother heard my prayers, simple prayers taught to me by rote. Somewhere along the way I learned to say the Lord’s Prayer. It became a routine. I would rattle it off without thinking about what I was saying. You see, I had not really learned how to pray.
Jesus continues in his teaching about prayer by telling a story. It is a story that paints the portrait of a loving God and offers instances of human generosity and the motives behind it. He tells of a person who will get out of bed and supply a friend’s need, not because he wants to get out of bed, but because the friend is persistent. A traveller has arrived unexpectedly on the man’s doorstep. He has nothing to feed him. He goes to his neighbour and bangs on the door. He wants his neighbour to give him some of tomorrow’s fresh bread. The family has already retired for the night. The gate is locked. It causes no small interruption. It wakes up the children and the dogs. It is stretching friendship a bit far. Jesus points out that hospitality is important enough, and the shame of not providing it was so great, that the poor man will get up, reluctantly, to respond to the request.
He is pointing out a simple truth about prayer. It is not the words that we pray that bring about some magical change in our lives. It is our attitude towards prayer. Prayer is intended to bring us into a closer relationship with God. It gives us the inclination to place every aspect of our lives in God’s presence and offer it in prayer. That means it is not enough to simply rattle off our prayers without really thinking about what we are saying, without allowing the words of the prayer to change our lives.
That seems simple enough, but this passage of Scripture as with many passages creates some real difficulties for people. “For everyone who asks receives,” Jesus continues in his story, “and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.”
So Jesus, what do I say to the young woman who opens up to me telling me her story of years of sexual abuse at the hands of her father? “I prayed every day to God that he would stop, but he didn’t!” she told me. “Maybe I didn’t use the right words. It must have been my fault.”
What of the man suffering from years of depression who was convinced by a well-meaning friend to pray to God rather than take medication?
Or the young widow who prayed earnestly that her husband, dying of cancer would be healed. What do I tell her when she asks me, “Is it something he did? Am I being punished for my sins?”
What do I say to the family of the teenager hit by a car, praying desperately for a miracle as the doctor tells them that there is no hope and that life support is to be withdrawn?
What do we tell people whose loved ones have been massacred in one of too many attacks over the past few weeks?
Those fervent prayers cause crises of faith. Why did God not answer my prayer? Did God fail or did I? Is it lack of faith on my part? Did I do something wrong? Did I pray the wrong way or use the wrong words? Perhaps there is no God after all? And there are well-meaning people who are quick to blame victims for their lack of faith. What happens is part of the human tragedy. There are things that challenge our courage, trials of pain and suffering, of loss and bereavement. And all of us die. Some of us it is true, die all too young.
Jesus says that the answer lies in continuing to pray, in being persistent in our prayer life. In prayer we ask for what we need. We ask, not because God has some sort of ‘money-back’ guarantee. Nor is it about getting the pink Cadillac you have always wanted. We ask knowing that we are building a relationship with God. We ask knowing that God hears our prayers. We pray with a sense of assurance knowing that the gift of the Holy Spirit is a promise that God will keep. We pray in loving expectation for the responsive word of God to rise in our hearts.
As I reflect I think of three ways in which God responds to our prayers. All three are wonderful gifts. The first gift is the surprise we had not even considered asking for, but which delights us. God is constantly offering such gifts – a rainbow in the sky, a beautiful sunset, a kind glance from a friend, a smile from a stranger.
The second gift is just what we wanted. Sometimes God gives us what we want and pray for. Haven’t we all said, “That was an answer to prayer”? When that happens everything about it smacks of God. It happens at just the right time. We sometimes call it a coincidence, but for me it is God at work, a ‘God-incidence’.
The third gift is not at all what we wanted, but it becomes more valuable as we live with it. God may not respond to our prayers as we wish. We may hear God’s call through a word heard in passing. With time we may begin to value and understand God’s response. Sometimes we do not. In whatever way God succeeds in reaching into our hearts we may hear the voice of God. That gift of grace, that powerful love brings us to the feet of Jesus. There we sit quietly with him enjoying his company, knowing that God loves us and loving us cannot help but answer our prayer.
Jesus’ lesson to the disciples points out a deep truth. The answer to prayer comes about, not because we get it right, or because we are living better lives than everyone else. It is about persistence in prayer, not because we hope to tire God out in order to get what we want, but because in persisting we build a relationship with God. We make God a part of our lives. We make prayer a part of our lives. It becomes as natural to us as breathing. We open ourselves up to God and we let God do the rest. Amen
Saturday, July 16, 2016
Ninth Sunday after Pentecost, Year C, Proper 16
At the Feet of Jesus
Readings: Amos 8:1-12; Psalm 52; Colossians 1:15-28; Luke 10:38-42
I was born in a little country hospital on Lake Erie. We lived in a tiny hamlet, and I was the third child so the doctor knew our family well. He said to my mother, “You have another girl.” Mother replied, “Oh! Her name is Catherine Ann.” He went out to my father with the same news. “Her name is Rachael Ann!’ my father told him. “You two had better get together,” the doctor told him. And so I became Ann Martha. And I must say, it was the bane of my existence growing up. You see my sister’s second name is Mary. They loved to remind me of the story of Mary and Martha, but it was always to remind me of my place in life. I personally believe they missed the point of the story.
What a homey story it is! Yet all week I have struggled with it, much as I struggled with it as a child. What can it possibly be saying to us in the context of all that has happened during this past week? The news of the past week has been devastating; the murder of a young girl and her mother, yet another terrorist act in France, a coup in Turkey. I truly want anything but a homey story. I want something that will give comfort that will allow me to say that God is in control, that there is hope. I want good news.
Not only is it homey. It is also wildly ambiguous. Is it meant to give Mary a male role and deprecate the so called ‘women’s work’ that Martha is doing? Is it lauding Mary for being a submissive female and dismissing the caring Martha? Is it praising impracticality? Is it a feminist story, making space for Mary beyond women’s traditional roles? Or is it the opposite? Is it about what is better or simply about our call, male or female, to be disciples of Jesus?
Jesus is visiting some close friends. As friends will do when they have an important visitor, Martha was scurrying around preparing and serving a meal. Mary, on the other hand, sat at Jesus' feet listening to him. Most women, I suspect, immediately identify with Martha. She complained to Jesus suggesting to him that he order Mary to help with the work. He refused to interfere. Instead he said to her, "Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things."
The gospel is not merely pointing out that Martha was busy getting a meal while Mary sat listening to their guest. It is the business of someone to stay with a guest at any time and in every culture. When something we are doing gets to the point that it is making us distracted then something has gone wrong and we need to do something about it. Jesus did not call Martha to task about what she was doing. He accepted her service and hospitality. Such things were important to him. But she was 'distracted' with all the serving. It was her distraction from what was important that caused him to respond as he did. Her anxiety about all the details kept her from the most important thing, really enjoying the opportunity to be with Jesus, to spend time together, to talk, and to listen to one another. She was missing out on the best part of friendship. She was obsessed with 'doing' rather than 'being'.
Our secular world is one of distractions, distractions that keep us from building relationships. I am sometimes appalled at the amount of time that has passed as I played some mindless game on my computer. And then there is the cell phone. I lived without one for fifty years, yet now I never leave home without it. Who has not reacted at seeing young people seated together at a table, all texting messages to who knows whom and totally ignoring the friends who are seated at the table with them? We have had to enact laws to limit people from driving distracted; the city of Toronto just announced its intention to limit pedestrians from texting to cut down on accidents. As I speak to people planning a relative’s funeral, I am struck by how often I hear regrets that they did not spend more time together. They regret that work came first. Yes! Like Martha, we are distracted by many things.
It happens in church life as well. So many things distract us from the mission of the Church. As a Church there are many issues that we face. They need to be prayerfully dealt with. I trust that is what happened at General Synod. It has been in the news, and so no doubt you will have heard the outcome of one of the many issues that was dealt with over this past week, that of changes in the Marriage Canon to allow same sex marriage. In his pastoral letter to the Diocese, Archbishop Johnson wrote about the problems facing our Canadian Anglican Church over what was a contentious debate.
I quote: “The next months will require considerable prayer and restraint. The bruising, confusion and pain of General Synod are echoed in our Church and certainly in our diocese. We need to provide the greatest pastoral generosity to each other who will be in very different places, and have been formed in very diverse contexts, theologically, spiritually, scripturally, experientially.
We need to be tender with one another, recognising in each other the image of God redeemed by our Saviour Jesus Christ, a beloved child, the desire of God's heart and will.
And we need to remember that what unites us is far more central than what divides us: our baptism into the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and our service together in his mission in the world.”
No matter what our personal opinion, we simply cannot let this debate divide us and distract us from the work of the Church. Nor can we separate this issue from our mission. For surely we are called to be an inclusive and loving community of faith.
Martha was so taken up with the hustle and bustle of service that she neglected the quietness of worship. She was so busy giving that she was not open to receiving. With all that distracts us, how do we hear, how do we truly take in Jesus’ words that one thing is needful? If we are to be servants in the world, the assignment begins at the feet of Jesus and draws us back periodically to that place of quietness and strength. Through Word and Sacrament we are renewed and revitalized and able to face the demands of a world so often torn apart by violence, by racism, by sexism, xenophobia, homophobia. Whatever comes along to distract us from what God is calling us to be.
So back to the ambiguities of the story! As far as I am concerned, this story cannot be about who or what is better. It cannot be about the role of women. Service and learning are both part of our call as disciples. What it does point out to us, and how it intersects with all that is going on in our world, is how important it is to maintain our relationship with God. In these times of distraction and upheaval how important it is to be grounded in our faith and able to listen to all that God is saying to the Church. Then and only then are we able to be a prayerful presence in the world. Amen.
Readings: Amos 8:1-12; Psalm 52; Colossians 1:15-28; Luke 10:38-42
I was born in a little country hospital on Lake Erie. We lived in a tiny hamlet, and I was the third child so the doctor knew our family well. He said to my mother, “You have another girl.” Mother replied, “Oh! Her name is Catherine Ann.” He went out to my father with the same news. “Her name is Rachael Ann!’ my father told him. “You two had better get together,” the doctor told him. And so I became Ann Martha. And I must say, it was the bane of my existence growing up. You see my sister’s second name is Mary. They loved to remind me of the story of Mary and Martha, but it was always to remind me of my place in life. I personally believe they missed the point of the story.
What a homey story it is! Yet all week I have struggled with it, much as I struggled with it as a child. What can it possibly be saying to us in the context of all that has happened during this past week? The news of the past week has been devastating; the murder of a young girl and her mother, yet another terrorist act in France, a coup in Turkey. I truly want anything but a homey story. I want something that will give comfort that will allow me to say that God is in control, that there is hope. I want good news.
Not only is it homey. It is also wildly ambiguous. Is it meant to give Mary a male role and deprecate the so called ‘women’s work’ that Martha is doing? Is it lauding Mary for being a submissive female and dismissing the caring Martha? Is it praising impracticality? Is it a feminist story, making space for Mary beyond women’s traditional roles? Or is it the opposite? Is it about what is better or simply about our call, male or female, to be disciples of Jesus?
Jesus is visiting some close friends. As friends will do when they have an important visitor, Martha was scurrying around preparing and serving a meal. Mary, on the other hand, sat at Jesus' feet listening to him. Most women, I suspect, immediately identify with Martha. She complained to Jesus suggesting to him that he order Mary to help with the work. He refused to interfere. Instead he said to her, "Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things."
The gospel is not merely pointing out that Martha was busy getting a meal while Mary sat listening to their guest. It is the business of someone to stay with a guest at any time and in every culture. When something we are doing gets to the point that it is making us distracted then something has gone wrong and we need to do something about it. Jesus did not call Martha to task about what she was doing. He accepted her service and hospitality. Such things were important to him. But she was 'distracted' with all the serving. It was her distraction from what was important that caused him to respond as he did. Her anxiety about all the details kept her from the most important thing, really enjoying the opportunity to be with Jesus, to spend time together, to talk, and to listen to one another. She was missing out on the best part of friendship. She was obsessed with 'doing' rather than 'being'.
Our secular world is one of distractions, distractions that keep us from building relationships. I am sometimes appalled at the amount of time that has passed as I played some mindless game on my computer. And then there is the cell phone. I lived without one for fifty years, yet now I never leave home without it. Who has not reacted at seeing young people seated together at a table, all texting messages to who knows whom and totally ignoring the friends who are seated at the table with them? We have had to enact laws to limit people from driving distracted; the city of Toronto just announced its intention to limit pedestrians from texting to cut down on accidents. As I speak to people planning a relative’s funeral, I am struck by how often I hear regrets that they did not spend more time together. They regret that work came first. Yes! Like Martha, we are distracted by many things.
It happens in church life as well. So many things distract us from the mission of the Church. As a Church there are many issues that we face. They need to be prayerfully dealt with. I trust that is what happened at General Synod. It has been in the news, and so no doubt you will have heard the outcome of one of the many issues that was dealt with over this past week, that of changes in the Marriage Canon to allow same sex marriage. In his pastoral letter to the Diocese, Archbishop Johnson wrote about the problems facing our Canadian Anglican Church over what was a contentious debate.
I quote: “The next months will require considerable prayer and restraint. The bruising, confusion and pain of General Synod are echoed in our Church and certainly in our diocese. We need to provide the greatest pastoral generosity to each other who will be in very different places, and have been formed in very diverse contexts, theologically, spiritually, scripturally, experientially.
We need to be tender with one another, recognising in each other the image of God redeemed by our Saviour Jesus Christ, a beloved child, the desire of God's heart and will.
And we need to remember that what unites us is far more central than what divides us: our baptism into the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and our service together in his mission in the world.”
No matter what our personal opinion, we simply cannot let this debate divide us and distract us from the work of the Church. Nor can we separate this issue from our mission. For surely we are called to be an inclusive and loving community of faith.
Martha was so taken up with the hustle and bustle of service that she neglected the quietness of worship. She was so busy giving that she was not open to receiving. With all that distracts us, how do we hear, how do we truly take in Jesus’ words that one thing is needful? If we are to be servants in the world, the assignment begins at the feet of Jesus and draws us back periodically to that place of quietness and strength. Through Word and Sacrament we are renewed and revitalized and able to face the demands of a world so often torn apart by violence, by racism, by sexism, xenophobia, homophobia. Whatever comes along to distract us from what God is calling us to be.
So back to the ambiguities of the story! As far as I am concerned, this story cannot be about who or what is better. It cannot be about the role of women. Service and learning are both part of our call as disciples. What it does point out to us, and how it intersects with all that is going on in our world, is how important it is to maintain our relationship with God. In these times of distraction and upheaval how important it is to be grounded in our faith and able to listen to all that God is saying to the Church. Then and only then are we able to be a prayerful presence in the world. Amen.
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