Swords into Ploughshares
Readings: Isaiah 2:1-5; Psalm 122; Romans 13:11-14; Matthew 24:36-44
Wake up! Be on guard! Stay alert! Be prepared! We hear that message every year at the beginning of Advent. It is an important reminder to the Christian that our Saviour will come again and that we need to be ready for that day.
Yet it always strikes me as ominous, as a dire warning about my spiritual state. Perhaps that goes back to my childhood to a time when apocalyptic readings meant hell and damnation sermons. The message of Advent is not intended that way. It is not a message that is intended to fill us with fear and apprehension; rather, it is intended to excite us and to fill us with hopeful expectation, the kind of expectation that comes as we prepare ourselves for a visit from a dear friend.
Consider how you prepare for such a visit. If you are anything like me, it begins with a thorough cleaning of the house. I change the bed linens in the guest bedroom and put out fresh towels. I plan meals and do a special shopping. I think about the people who are coming to visit, about what they might like to do. I think about all the things I want to share with them about what is happening in my life. I think of all the questions I have for them about family, friends and work.
That, it seems to me, is a good way to approach the season of Advent. The readings point out the way in which we can prepare ourselves for God’s coming, for God’s presence amongst us.
You can see it in the passage from the Old Testament. Isaiah urges the people of Israel to prepare themselves to be channels of God’s peace in the world. He has a vision of people coming as pilgrims to worship God. He calls them to put aside what kills society and to affirm what gives life. “Beat swords into ploughshares,” he urges them. What a wonderful metaphor for what needs to happen to bring about a state of peace! Instruments of war are converted into farm implements. People are able to live in contentment in their own places, tending to their own lives. Right and wrong are judged, taking away the sphere of oppression. There is no more conflict.
Do we dare stand mutely by as we read those prophetic words from Isaiah? Such words should radically transform our very lives, each and every day. They should bring us to a state of repentance. What are the swords in our lives that could be reshaped this Advent into tools of growth and peace? How can we contribute to peace in this world by our own reconciliation and peacemaking?
On an episode of CSI one of the detectives had to do an investigation in a church. She was reflecting on how it felt to be in a church, and on how rarely she attended any more. "Every time I go," she said making her excuses, "the sermon is about forgiveness." There is no mystery about that. What a need we have to hear the message that we are forgiven! What a need we have to forgive others!
What action could we take this Advent? Is there a conflict in your life that you could amend? It might be apologizing for an offense, or saying a word of appreciation to someone with whom you have a difficult relationship, or reaching out to someone who has offended you.
That is the kind of action that Paul is envisioning in his letter to the Romans. The whole issue of peace begins at a very personal level. It begins with peace within ourselves. That extends into our relationships. Only when we are at peace within ourselves will we find peace at wider and higher levels. "Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me, " one hymn puts it. Paul knew that. And so he issued a wake up call. He invited the Christians in Rome to wake up, to offer to God all of their love, an active peace seeking and peace making which can bring day out of night.
Isn’t that what we need in our church? A spirit of reconciliation and love that pervades our whole community so that we look at one another and see Christ! People should be able to smell Christ on us!
Isn't that what we need in our world? We live in dark times, times of terrorism, of ecological disaster. We have come to know a world where we recognize that we live with the possibility of it all coming crashing to an end. Paul offers Christ as the means of changing our life's direction. What a need we have of conversion! Of really living our lives in the light of Christ!
What can we do to bring ourselves closer to God during this Advent season? Can it be a time of renewal through prayer and worship? Can we find ways to put aside the busyness of the holidays and make them the holy days that they are intended to be? There are so many choices to be made in our world. It can be overwhelming. We have to sift; we have to choose; we have to sort out. We have to determine our direction. The sorting out takes place through our choices. These are times to consider our responsibility as good stewards of God’s creation. They are times to use the world’s abundance with restraint and concern for the needs of others. They are times to be advocates for the poor and for the needy. Advent is one of those times in the church year when we simply need to take stock and consider all the good things that God has provided for us, and then determine where God is leading.
The wake up call is there in the gospel too. Jesus speaks with a sense of urgency. He reminds the disciples of the story of Noah and the flood. “That is what the end days will be like,” he tells them. People will be going about the daily routine. “It is up to each of you,” he is saying, “to be ready for God.” It isn’t about being good. We know that we fall short of what God expects. We know too that God is there to reach out in forgiveness. This is not about judgement. This is not a dreadful anxious watching, but a joyful readiness for the signs of the coming of God into our human experience. We can look back at past ages and see what God has done in the world. We can see the signs of God’s presence in the lives of faithful people. The present belongs to God as well. There are signs all around us that God is at work. We experience God in the beauty of nature. We see God reflected in the other people. We meet God in our worship. God is in the future as well. That is why we need to keep awake. That is why we need to be prepared. We need to recognize God in that coming.
I was sitting next to a parishioner when her beeper went off. "Is there a phone I can use?" she asked. I let her into my office and went back to where the women were gathered. Knowing that it possibly meant that a kidney was available, they were already deep in prayer. She came out a few minutes later. "Not this time! False alarm!" And we all went back to our meeting.
It was amazing to me that she could wait as weeks turned into months with such a deep sense of serenity when it meant so much to her. I knew that three mornings a week she went to the hospital for dialysis. I knew the restrictions on her diet. I knew that she carefully measured her intake of fluids. What a trial that is for someone who loves a good cup of tea! I knew that she lived daily with the knowledge that without a transplant she would not survive. Yet she lived each day in hope and expectation. Her deep faith accepted that God would answer her prayer, either with the needed surgery or she would meet face to face with the God she served.
Then came the day when the beeper went off for real. She hurried to the hospital. It was a good match. She had the surgery. Everything went well and day by day she grew stronger. Not that the watching and waiting were over. There were foul smelling anti-rejection drugs to take. (They really do smell like a skunk!) There were still the restrictions on her diet. But day by day the colour came back into her face.
There came the wonderful celebration when she was back at church. At the chancel steps she placed a bouquet of white roses. In the centre of the bouquet standing out from the rest was one beautiful red rose – "for the person who gave me new life," she explained – and one yellow, "for my new life."
As we journey through Advent, let us watch and wait in joyful readiness for the signs of the coming of God into our human experience. It is a time to welcome Christ into our hearts. It is a time to turn the swords in our lives into ploughshares of love, understanding and peace. It is a time for repentance. It is a time for renewed faith and commitment. It is a time to hold fast to the hope that Christ will come again in glory. It is a time to wait in joyful expectation.
Let us keep this promise alive so that we can say at last, "Maranatha! Jesus comes!" What a wake up call that will be!
Friday, November 25, 2016
Friday, November 18, 2016
The Reign of Christ, Year C
Faith's Illusions
Readings: Jeremiah 23:1-6; Canticle 19; Colossians 1:11-20; Luke 23:33-43
Following a turbulent marriage, Joni Mitchell meditates on life in a song.
“I've looked at clouds from both sides now,
From up and down and still somehow,
It's cloud's illusions I recall,
I really don't know clouds at all”
She goes on to say that it is not only clouds, but life that she doesn’t really understand. In her topsy-turvy world up is down, good is bad, more is less.
I resonate with her on many levels. There have been turbulent times in my life when nothing seemed to be the way it should be. I would look up at the sky and see only dark clouds, even when the sun was shining. And yet I knew, even at my lowest times, that God loved me. I knew that God was there even when I was unable to sense God’s presence.
Our faith is based on a topsy-turvy world. That table turning, topsy-turvy way of looking at things is God’s way. Consider what we believe! God took on human form. God is a king born in a manger to lowly parents. God is a friend of outcasts and strangers. God came to serve rather than to be served. God died on the cross as a common criminal to bring life to humankind.
That is, after all, what we are called to reflect on this last Sunday of the Church Year, as we celebrate the reign of Christ. The readings call us to examine what it means that Christ reigns as king. What is the Christian image of kingship? For ours is a king who reigns, not from a throne, but from a cross. And that is such a topsy-turvy way of expressing kingship.
In our humanity, in our hunger for power, we so often get it wrong. How often has the cross become a symbol of might rather than a symbol of peace? Christianity began as a small group of powerless people in the eastern provinces of the Roman Empire. But by the time of Constantine in the fourth century, the church had become integrated into the social system of the same empire that had persecuted it. The Christians who had been persecuted became the persecutors. Constantine became the righteous king through whom God's reign could be established on earth.
In medieval times, Emperors throughout Europe considered themselves to be kings by divine right, representing the fatherhood of God on earth. How many wars have been fought because of that way of thinking? Fought in the name of God with shouts from both sides that "God is on our side"?
What a different view of kingship we Christians are called to proclaim! In the Old Testament reading for today, the prophet Jeremiah proclaims, “The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will raise up for David a righteous branch.” He is concerned with the quality of those who are in leadership in Israel. In fact, he does not hold a very high opinion of those who are. He makes a pledge to the people of Israel on behalf of God, the ultimate shepherd. God will gather the people back from exile. God will guide them back to Israel where they will enjoy good leadership.
As Christians we discern in the reading a promise of the coming of Jesus who embodies righteousness and offers a vision of justice that stands out in contrast to the reality of the society in which we live. We know that it will come at great price. King Jesus will indeed come, and will sacrifice life itself to give life to the people of God, because in God’s topsy-turvy world death is life.
The Gospel once again proclaims the story of the crucifixion. The sign placed on the cross reminds us that Jesus is a king. And even as he hangs on the cross there are those who hope that King Jesus will come in power. “Save yourself and us!” one of the criminals shouts out. Isn’t Jesus the longed for Messiah, the one who will address Israel’s hope of liberation? That Jesus is, after all, the Jesus of the Gospel. Did he not march into the synagogue and overturn the tables of the moneychangers? Did he not roll up the scroll in the temple as he announced good news to the poor, to the hungry, to those who mourned? Did he not proclaim change?
But then in God’s mysterious way, he died on a cross as a common criminal. In God’s topsy-turvy world is it the end of power, or the beginning? Jesus was enormously powerful, even from the cross. He spread a revolution of love and grace. Christ the King is a counter image of a life poured out in compassion. That is why two thousand years later we still follow him.
A family, father, mother and two small children lived in a small house in a rural village. One night there was a terrible fire. The house went up in flames. There was no fire engine in this remote spot, and so the villagers stood around helplessly, watching the blaze.
Just then a young man arrived on the scene. Taking no thought for himself he darted into the house. He emerged carrying a small child under each arm. The children were unharmed, but he himself was badly burned.
The parents of the two children died in the fire. There was much sympathy for the two children. Several people wanted to adopt them. When the judge arrived to decide who would adopt the children, there were two petitions that came before the court. The first was a wealthy landowner. He had money, position, and a fine house to offer the children. The second was the man who had rescued the children from the flames. When the judge asked him what right he had to ask the court for the children no words were necessary. He merely held up his hands to reveal the scars.
What a different King we follow! King Jesus holds out his hands to us. We see the scars and know that Jesus’ suffering and pain was his royal road to us. It was in giving up his life for us that he showed us God’s glory and passionate love. As Christians we are part of God’s topsy-turvy world. It is a world where contradictions bear fruit. Like existence, life does not end in death. Rather, death ends in life.
What are the signs that it is happening in our world? What are the signs of resurrection? Because so often all we can see are dark clouds. All we can understand are the illusions. All we experience is the doubts.
It is our ministry as servants of Christ, our bearing Christ to the world that helps us to see and understand life as it is. It begins with each one of us recognizing that we lead by serving. All of us come every day in contact with people in need. And don't think for a moment that it doesn't matter. And don't think for a moment that you don't know what to do. And don't think that you need special training. Often it is a ministry of compassionate listening which is most needed in a world where no one ever stops or cares. And every one of us can do that. It is in reaching out to others that we accept the servant ministry that reflects our acceptance of Christ as king in our lives.
As our church year comes to a close, we concentrate on the coming of the king. Does that numb us to the suffering about us and to our responsibility in the midst of it all? Or does it inspire us to loving service?
May Christ the King be king of our lives now as he shall be forever. May the truth of Christ's kingship spur us on to living our lives for him and for others!
Readings: Jeremiah 23:1-6; Canticle 19; Colossians 1:11-20; Luke 23:33-43
Following a turbulent marriage, Joni Mitchell meditates on life in a song.
“I've looked at clouds from both sides now,
From up and down and still somehow,
It's cloud's illusions I recall,
I really don't know clouds at all”
She goes on to say that it is not only clouds, but life that she doesn’t really understand. In her topsy-turvy world up is down, good is bad, more is less.
I resonate with her on many levels. There have been turbulent times in my life when nothing seemed to be the way it should be. I would look up at the sky and see only dark clouds, even when the sun was shining. And yet I knew, even at my lowest times, that God loved me. I knew that God was there even when I was unable to sense God’s presence.
Our faith is based on a topsy-turvy world. That table turning, topsy-turvy way of looking at things is God’s way. Consider what we believe! God took on human form. God is a king born in a manger to lowly parents. God is a friend of outcasts and strangers. God came to serve rather than to be served. God died on the cross as a common criminal to bring life to humankind.
That is, after all, what we are called to reflect on this last Sunday of the Church Year, as we celebrate the reign of Christ. The readings call us to examine what it means that Christ reigns as king. What is the Christian image of kingship? For ours is a king who reigns, not from a throne, but from a cross. And that is such a topsy-turvy way of expressing kingship.
In our humanity, in our hunger for power, we so often get it wrong. How often has the cross become a symbol of might rather than a symbol of peace? Christianity began as a small group of powerless people in the eastern provinces of the Roman Empire. But by the time of Constantine in the fourth century, the church had become integrated into the social system of the same empire that had persecuted it. The Christians who had been persecuted became the persecutors. Constantine became the righteous king through whom God's reign could be established on earth.
In medieval times, Emperors throughout Europe considered themselves to be kings by divine right, representing the fatherhood of God on earth. How many wars have been fought because of that way of thinking? Fought in the name of God with shouts from both sides that "God is on our side"?
What a different view of kingship we Christians are called to proclaim! In the Old Testament reading for today, the prophet Jeremiah proclaims, “The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will raise up for David a righteous branch.” He is concerned with the quality of those who are in leadership in Israel. In fact, he does not hold a very high opinion of those who are. He makes a pledge to the people of Israel on behalf of God, the ultimate shepherd. God will gather the people back from exile. God will guide them back to Israel where they will enjoy good leadership.
As Christians we discern in the reading a promise of the coming of Jesus who embodies righteousness and offers a vision of justice that stands out in contrast to the reality of the society in which we live. We know that it will come at great price. King Jesus will indeed come, and will sacrifice life itself to give life to the people of God, because in God’s topsy-turvy world death is life.
The Gospel once again proclaims the story of the crucifixion. The sign placed on the cross reminds us that Jesus is a king. And even as he hangs on the cross there are those who hope that King Jesus will come in power. “Save yourself and us!” one of the criminals shouts out. Isn’t Jesus the longed for Messiah, the one who will address Israel’s hope of liberation? That Jesus is, after all, the Jesus of the Gospel. Did he not march into the synagogue and overturn the tables of the moneychangers? Did he not roll up the scroll in the temple as he announced good news to the poor, to the hungry, to those who mourned? Did he not proclaim change?
But then in God’s mysterious way, he died on a cross as a common criminal. In God’s topsy-turvy world is it the end of power, or the beginning? Jesus was enormously powerful, even from the cross. He spread a revolution of love and grace. Christ the King is a counter image of a life poured out in compassion. That is why two thousand years later we still follow him.
A family, father, mother and two small children lived in a small house in a rural village. One night there was a terrible fire. The house went up in flames. There was no fire engine in this remote spot, and so the villagers stood around helplessly, watching the blaze.
Just then a young man arrived on the scene. Taking no thought for himself he darted into the house. He emerged carrying a small child under each arm. The children were unharmed, but he himself was badly burned.
The parents of the two children died in the fire. There was much sympathy for the two children. Several people wanted to adopt them. When the judge arrived to decide who would adopt the children, there were two petitions that came before the court. The first was a wealthy landowner. He had money, position, and a fine house to offer the children. The second was the man who had rescued the children from the flames. When the judge asked him what right he had to ask the court for the children no words were necessary. He merely held up his hands to reveal the scars.
What a different King we follow! King Jesus holds out his hands to us. We see the scars and know that Jesus’ suffering and pain was his royal road to us. It was in giving up his life for us that he showed us God’s glory and passionate love. As Christians we are part of God’s topsy-turvy world. It is a world where contradictions bear fruit. Like existence, life does not end in death. Rather, death ends in life.
What are the signs that it is happening in our world? What are the signs of resurrection? Because so often all we can see are dark clouds. All we can understand are the illusions. All we experience is the doubts.
It is our ministry as servants of Christ, our bearing Christ to the world that helps us to see and understand life as it is. It begins with each one of us recognizing that we lead by serving. All of us come every day in contact with people in need. And don't think for a moment that it doesn't matter. And don't think for a moment that you don't know what to do. And don't think that you need special training. Often it is a ministry of compassionate listening which is most needed in a world where no one ever stops or cares. And every one of us can do that. It is in reaching out to others that we accept the servant ministry that reflects our acceptance of Christ as king in our lives.
As our church year comes to a close, we concentrate on the coming of the king. Does that numb us to the suffering about us and to our responsibility in the midst of it all? Or does it inspire us to loving service?
May Christ the King be king of our lives now as he shall be forever. May the truth of Christ's kingship spur us on to living our lives for him and for others!
Saturday, November 12, 2016
26th Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 33, Year C
Hope Amidst the Doom And Gloom
Readings: Isaiah 65:17-25; Canticle 3; 2 Thessalonians 3:6-13; Luke 21:5-19 These Sundays leading up to the end of the church year reflect our need to live our lives in expectancy. They call us to find grace in an apocalyptic age, an age that dwells on the end of time. They call us to deal with the ambiguity of living with uncertainty about the future. They call us to live authentically. It represents a classic theme in Scripture and a distinct view of history. But it is a theme that can create a culture of fear. Like the little hen, Henny Penny in the children’s story who thinks the sky is falling in, we can begin to see nothing but chaos, doom and gloom all around us. Or we can look for hope as we remember our continuing relationship with God, a God of grace and love.
That is the theme of today’s gospel. Jesus is speaking to the disciples. He tells them that the beautiful temple they see before them will not last. It is the same temple that was rebuilt at great price following the exile in Babylon. "What are the signs," they want to know.
Jesus paints a portrait of a world in great turmoil and conflict. "Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven." Jesus tells them that it will be a time of testing for the faithful. They will experience persecution, betrayal, hatred and even death.
Let’s face it! That is a frightening picture. It was frightening to the disciples. It was frightening to the early Christians as they struggled with the persecution they faced. Paul in writing to the people of Thessalonica is talking to those who are ready to give up. Fear of what the future may hold causes them to opt out of life. Why bother to work if it will all end tomorrow? They are unable or unwilling to live with that kind of uncertainty that often brings with it a sense of hopelessness and meaninglessness.
And how remarkably like our own time and place! We live in a broken world. We live in a world where there is never peace. War in the Middle East, the war against terrorism, tribal wars in the Sudan and other parts of Africa, conflict between Moslem and Christian, Moslem and Jew, Tamil and Senegalese. The list seems endless. On top of that, there is an increase in the destructive forces of nature; consider the destruction of Hurricane Matthew in Haiti. There is proof, even though many deny it, of global warming as the polar icecaps recede more and more. There are famines. There are plagues such as we have never encountered before like SARS and AIDS. There is poverty in the midst of plenty. There is violence. Many continue to question whether we live in the end times.
The people to whom Isaiah writes, a people in exile felt the same way. The Hebrew people might deserve to be rejected as a whole, but there are genuine committed people in the community. For their sake God’s promises will be fulfilled. It is an apocalyptic vision of a new heaven and a new earth. It will be a restoration of Paradise. God will be so near that the people will sense God’s presence everywhere.
Jesus too gives a message of great hope to the faithful. His answer to the disciples was remarkable when you think about it. He called them to persevere in the faith. He recognized that it was a time of terrible threat; yet it was too, as such times are, a time of deep rewards and rich promise.
“Do not be led astray!” Jesus reminds them. This may be a time of anxiety and uncertainty, but it is a time to keep your wits about you. It is a time to think for yourself, to use the reason that God has given you.
“Don’t go after the ones who would lead you astray,” he continues. Voices may tell you that the end is near. Don’t follow those voices. Follow God. Trust in the promises that God has made to you. Trust in the promises that God has continued to fulfill in you, God’s people.
Finally he tells them, “Don’t be terrified!” Don’t let fear stop you in your tracks! You may feel lost in a wilderness where there are a million questions and no answers. Continue to trust in God’s promises and live in hope.
It is not simply good advice to the disciples; it is also good advice to the early Christians. The early believers were persecuted and tried. Many were martyred for the faith. They needed Jesus’ words to help them live with courage and conviction. Their perseverance in the faith has meant over two thousand years of faithful witness and service.
It puts our own faith into perspective as well. It is not up to us to make claims about special knowledge when it comes to the signs of the end of time. It is up to us to remain faithful to the message of salvation and to be obedient to the teachings of Jesus. It is up to us to live out our lives in faith, being like Christ.
What frightens you most about the future of the Church? Some people fear that we have become irrelevant, that we need to change the way we worship and the way we approach God. Some think that we have deviated too far from Scripture. There are many who fear that we will allow issues like Same-Sex blessing to fracture our unity.
What worries you about the future of the world? Is it the apathy you see in people who care so little about the environment that they will throw their garbage wherever it lands? Is it terrorism, or child poverty, or the escalating violence in society? Dare I say it? Is it that a misogynistic, racist, sexist person got himself elected president of the United States?
Those words of Jesus continue to speak to us. “Don’t be led astray!” There are many voices out there that can lead us astray. I suspect that for many of us it is those nagging voices that tell us that there is nothing we can do to change what is going on. “Don’t go after those voices,” Jesus reminds us. Our call is to follow Jesus, to be like Christ, to seek Christ in those we encounter in our lives, to be Christ in the world. And especially “don’t be terrified!” That will just stop you from accomplishing anything.
So what if we stop wondering when the weeping will cease, and start to do something constructive about the state of the world? We are faced with terrible threat. And yet it is also a time of rich promise. We live with anxiety and uncertainty, but it is also a time of great rewards and benefits. Do we look forward to the coming of God’s reign?
Discipleship is not about waiting for God to do something; it is about anticipating God’s actions in the world. It is about being Christ in the world. It is about serving with compassion and mercy. What will you do today in anticipation of the fulfillment of God’s promises? It is ultimately up to each one of us. It begins with putting our trust in our loving God. It continues with living our lives faithfully and prayerfully. It means especially living out God’s promises in everything we do.
Because, you know, we live in a world that is full of God’s grace and love. That can be seen all around us. It is difficult to miss as we look at the beauty of the changing seasons. We see it in the smiling faces of children. We experience it as we come together as a community of faith.
So no, Henny Penny! The sky is not falling in! There is hope amidst the doom and gloom. Let us affirm that hope as we say together the words of the Canticle for this morning.
Isaiah 12.2–6
Surely, it is God who saves me; * I will trust in him and not be afraid.
For the Lord is my stronghold and my sure defence, * and he will be my Saviour.
Therefore you shall draw water with rejoicing * from the springs of salvation.
And on that day you shall say, * Give thanks to the Lord and call upon his name;
make his deeds known among the peoples; * see that they remember that his name is exalted.
Sing the praises of the Lord, for he has done great things, * and this is known in all the world.
Cry aloud, inhabitants of Zion, ring out your joy, * for the great one in the midst of you is the Holy One of Israel. Amen
Readings: Isaiah 65:17-25; Canticle 3; 2 Thessalonians 3:6-13; Luke 21:5-19 These Sundays leading up to the end of the church year reflect our need to live our lives in expectancy. They call us to find grace in an apocalyptic age, an age that dwells on the end of time. They call us to deal with the ambiguity of living with uncertainty about the future. They call us to live authentically. It represents a classic theme in Scripture and a distinct view of history. But it is a theme that can create a culture of fear. Like the little hen, Henny Penny in the children’s story who thinks the sky is falling in, we can begin to see nothing but chaos, doom and gloom all around us. Or we can look for hope as we remember our continuing relationship with God, a God of grace and love.
That is the theme of today’s gospel. Jesus is speaking to the disciples. He tells them that the beautiful temple they see before them will not last. It is the same temple that was rebuilt at great price following the exile in Babylon. "What are the signs," they want to know.
Jesus paints a portrait of a world in great turmoil and conflict. "Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven." Jesus tells them that it will be a time of testing for the faithful. They will experience persecution, betrayal, hatred and even death.
Let’s face it! That is a frightening picture. It was frightening to the disciples. It was frightening to the early Christians as they struggled with the persecution they faced. Paul in writing to the people of Thessalonica is talking to those who are ready to give up. Fear of what the future may hold causes them to opt out of life. Why bother to work if it will all end tomorrow? They are unable or unwilling to live with that kind of uncertainty that often brings with it a sense of hopelessness and meaninglessness.
And how remarkably like our own time and place! We live in a broken world. We live in a world where there is never peace. War in the Middle East, the war against terrorism, tribal wars in the Sudan and other parts of Africa, conflict between Moslem and Christian, Moslem and Jew, Tamil and Senegalese. The list seems endless. On top of that, there is an increase in the destructive forces of nature; consider the destruction of Hurricane Matthew in Haiti. There is proof, even though many deny it, of global warming as the polar icecaps recede more and more. There are famines. There are plagues such as we have never encountered before like SARS and AIDS. There is poverty in the midst of plenty. There is violence. Many continue to question whether we live in the end times.
The people to whom Isaiah writes, a people in exile felt the same way. The Hebrew people might deserve to be rejected as a whole, but there are genuine committed people in the community. For their sake God’s promises will be fulfilled. It is an apocalyptic vision of a new heaven and a new earth. It will be a restoration of Paradise. God will be so near that the people will sense God’s presence everywhere.
Jesus too gives a message of great hope to the faithful. His answer to the disciples was remarkable when you think about it. He called them to persevere in the faith. He recognized that it was a time of terrible threat; yet it was too, as such times are, a time of deep rewards and rich promise.
“Do not be led astray!” Jesus reminds them. This may be a time of anxiety and uncertainty, but it is a time to keep your wits about you. It is a time to think for yourself, to use the reason that God has given you.
“Don’t go after the ones who would lead you astray,” he continues. Voices may tell you that the end is near. Don’t follow those voices. Follow God. Trust in the promises that God has made to you. Trust in the promises that God has continued to fulfill in you, God’s people.
Finally he tells them, “Don’t be terrified!” Don’t let fear stop you in your tracks! You may feel lost in a wilderness where there are a million questions and no answers. Continue to trust in God’s promises and live in hope.
It is not simply good advice to the disciples; it is also good advice to the early Christians. The early believers were persecuted and tried. Many were martyred for the faith. They needed Jesus’ words to help them live with courage and conviction. Their perseverance in the faith has meant over two thousand years of faithful witness and service.
It puts our own faith into perspective as well. It is not up to us to make claims about special knowledge when it comes to the signs of the end of time. It is up to us to remain faithful to the message of salvation and to be obedient to the teachings of Jesus. It is up to us to live out our lives in faith, being like Christ.
What frightens you most about the future of the Church? Some people fear that we have become irrelevant, that we need to change the way we worship and the way we approach God. Some think that we have deviated too far from Scripture. There are many who fear that we will allow issues like Same-Sex blessing to fracture our unity.
What worries you about the future of the world? Is it the apathy you see in people who care so little about the environment that they will throw their garbage wherever it lands? Is it terrorism, or child poverty, or the escalating violence in society? Dare I say it? Is it that a misogynistic, racist, sexist person got himself elected president of the United States?
Those words of Jesus continue to speak to us. “Don’t be led astray!” There are many voices out there that can lead us astray. I suspect that for many of us it is those nagging voices that tell us that there is nothing we can do to change what is going on. “Don’t go after those voices,” Jesus reminds us. Our call is to follow Jesus, to be like Christ, to seek Christ in those we encounter in our lives, to be Christ in the world. And especially “don’t be terrified!” That will just stop you from accomplishing anything.
So what if we stop wondering when the weeping will cease, and start to do something constructive about the state of the world? We are faced with terrible threat. And yet it is also a time of rich promise. We live with anxiety and uncertainty, but it is also a time of great rewards and benefits. Do we look forward to the coming of God’s reign?
Discipleship is not about waiting for God to do something; it is about anticipating God’s actions in the world. It is about being Christ in the world. It is about serving with compassion and mercy. What will you do today in anticipation of the fulfillment of God’s promises? It is ultimately up to each one of us. It begins with putting our trust in our loving God. It continues with living our lives faithfully and prayerfully. It means especially living out God’s promises in everything we do.
Because, you know, we live in a world that is full of God’s grace and love. That can be seen all around us. It is difficult to miss as we look at the beauty of the changing seasons. We see it in the smiling faces of children. We experience it as we come together as a community of faith.
So no, Henny Penny! The sky is not falling in! There is hope amidst the doom and gloom. Let us affirm that hope as we say together the words of the Canticle for this morning.
Isaiah 12.2–6
Surely, it is God who saves me; * I will trust in him and not be afraid.
For the Lord is my stronghold and my sure defence, * and he will be my Saviour.
Therefore you shall draw water with rejoicing * from the springs of salvation.
And on that day you shall say, * Give thanks to the Lord and call upon his name;
make his deeds known among the peoples; * see that they remember that his name is exalted.
Sing the praises of the Lord, for he has done great things, * and this is known in all the world.
Cry aloud, inhabitants of Zion, ring out your joy, * for the great one in the midst of you is the Holy One of Israel. Amen
Saturday, October 15, 2016
22nd Sunday after Pentecost, Year C, Proper 29
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.
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 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.
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