The Third Sunday of Advent, Year A

Living Lives of Generosity and Love

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How did you do that?” asks Charlie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Advent is a time of renewal and transformation in the Church year.  It is a time to be spiritually prepared for Christmas.  It is a time for the wilderness to be brought to new life.  There are many people who need that kind of transformation in their lives.  We need to go where Jesus goes.  We need to do what Jesus does – serving, healing, helping, and sharing out in the world.  We need to live lives of generosity and love.
 
Our task during this Advent season is to let Christ come more fully into our lives.  It is to share with others the joy of his presence by our concern for the suffering and the poor.  It is to embrace this wilderness time and use it as a time to grow spiritually so that the wilderness rejoices and blossoms.  It is to embrace the good news that God’s kingdom of shalom is breaking in, that change is taking place and that humanity is getting healed.  It is to live our lives in Christ.  It is to see Christ in those we meet.  It is to prepare the way of the Lord.

The Last Sunday of Epiphany, Year C

Transforming Moments

Readings: Exodus 34:29-35; Psalm 99; 2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2; Luke 9:28-36, 37-43

In “Chicken Soup for the Christian Soul” a man named Richard shared a transformative moment from his life. He was going into the subway in a large city. There was the usual rush of the crowded station, but people were, as usual, anonymous, keeping to themselves. An elderly woman called out from the top of the elevator. “Good morning!” She went up to one man. “How are you this morning?” He nodded and moved on. Unpreturbed she shouted across the tracks. “How are you all?” Richard found himself caught up in it. He shouted back, “I'm great!” Then he watched as she disappeared back up the escalator. He got on his train and found himself sharing a pole with several people. He simply couldn't help himself. “Good morning!” he said to the woman next to him. She looked at him rather tentatively. He shared the story about the woman in the station. People began to talk about it. “Do you think she was an angel?” one of them asked. Richard agreed. After all, isn't that what angels do? They carry messages to people. All of the people in the car became animated, laughing and talking and greeting one another. As she went to leave the train, the woman thanked Richard for sharing a moment of joy in what was usually a rather humdrum part of her day. It was moment of transformation that those people will carry with them. Who knows what lives it changed?

On this last Sunday of Epiphany Scripture focuses on stories of transfiguration experiences. The first is the account of Moses returning from the mountain. He is changed as he returns from his encounter with God. His face shines from the experience. Of course his face shone. He had seen God. In fact it shines so much that it causes fear in Aaron and the Israelites. In further encounters with God he finds it necessary to mask himself when he returns. The story reinforces the importance of Moses as the one called by God to act as mediator and to speak the ongoing messages from God. The message coming from Moses is alive. It brings life and light to the people if they are willing to hear it.

Paul too finds that his encounter with the risen Christ transforms all who experience it. He finds himself unmasked when he turns to Jesus. There is a new relationship. There is a new freedom. He sees Christ in all of his risen glory. Paul knows that the more you look at the divine glow in Jesus the more your life carries that same glow. He sees it not in terms of ecstatic experiences but in terms of love and compassion.

And on the mountain of transfiguration, not only is our Lord changed, but so are the disciples who share the experience. It radically changes their relationship with him. In that mountaintop experience they catch a glimpse of the glory to come. They experience a moment of rapture. They hear the voice of God calling Jesus “my chosen Son”. Reflected in that same glory they begin to know themselves. They see all that they are meant to be. They are transformed into God’s own likeness. It is for them a call to action, a call to change, a call to be.

There are times in our Christian journey when we ascend the mountain with Jesus. There on the mountain top we come to know him in his glory. Reflected in that glory we begin to know ourselves, to know all that we are meant to be. For we too are called to the heights, to greatness. We are called to be transformed into God's own likeness. We are called to know the glory of God and to see it in our lives. Jesus Christ lived human life in such a way to show that it was capable of transformation. In the same way God will bring about such a transformation in the whole of creation. The guarantee of our faith is that it will be worth it despite all of the difficult and painful things that happen in our life journey.

The problem is we often fail to see the glory that surrounds us. And if we do, we don’t allow it to transform the dreariness of our lives, because to allow that transformation to take place would mean to change our perspective. All too easily we allow the problems in our lives, the fears, to take hold.

Is anyone afraid today? Is anyone troubled? Then today is a time to step aside for a while,
to find the quiet space in which you can pour out your hearts to God, in which you can climb the mountain of transfiguration and know God's presence as you pray and listen.

Today is the time to allow the ordinary bread and wine of our existence to be held up before God to be transformed by his love into the body and blood of Christ. It is the time to allow word and table to transform our hearts. It is the time to experience the glory of God that Jesus and the disciples experienced on the Mountain of Transfiguration. For we too are invited to climb the mountain, to experience the light of God shining in our lives and then to carry it out into the world where others may see it as well. We all have those experiences in our lives, times when we are transformed by the greatness of God.

There are such times scattered throughout my life. I was transformed by the greatness of God when I saw a double rainbow in the sky. I was transformed by the greatness of God when I watched the northern lights dance across the sky, when I saw the world transformed by a fresh snowfall, when I viewed the glitter of the stars piercing through a dark wintry night. I was transformed by the greatness of God when I stood on a lookout in the Rockies, looking out over God's wonderful creation.

I was transformed by the greatness of God at a moment of conversion when I realized the utter reality of God, through answered prayer, when I made my first confession, when I was ordained.

I was transformed by the greatness of God when Alice shared her last moments of life with me, when an elderly woman said, “Get out my brown shoes; I'm going dancing tonight”, when a child who was not expected to live past her first birthday came running up to the altar for a blessing, when an elderly man told me his childhood memories of his mother's words to him many years before as she lay dying, words that comforted him in his last moments of life.

I am transformed by the greatness of God when I listen to Handel's Messiah, when I hear the sweet voices of a children's choir, when I hear a great organ being played.

I am transformed by the greatness of God each time I hold the bread and wine out to you and invite you to come to the table. I am transformed by the greatness of God when we all join together to say, “Glory to God...” I am amazed because they are transformative moments in my life. They are glimpses of the glory of God, moments in my day in which the world is transfigured. They are moments when I know that God is reaching out to me.

Grace comes into our lives in so many unexpected ways. Our relationships with other people can be transformative experiences that transcend the barriers between us and God. There are times of disclosure when we allow others to really see who we are. Those are the moments that most clearly shape our lives. Without such moments others would never really come to know who we are. We would never really come to know them. And we would miss out on great insights into the nature and essence of the God we worship.

There is a purpose to the Transfiguration event. It gives a glimpse of the glory of God, something that we humans find impossible to fully comprehend. It was a great and grand event, the mountaintop experience. In sharing in it, although we find ourselves back in the valley again, we do so holding on to the memory of the transfigured and resurrected Christ. That is a memory that transforms our lives and allows us to share the light of Christ with others on the journey.

The Second Sunday after Epiphany, Year C

When the Wine Runs Out

Readings: Isaiah 62:1-5; Psalm 36:5-10; 1 Corinthians 12:1-11; John 2:1-11

There is something in our human nature that loves a miracle. The more astounding the better! Consider the Guinness World Book of Records. For instance did you know that the fastest time for eating a twelve inch pizza is 1 minute 45.37 seconds. It was set by Josh Anderson of New Zealand in March of 2008. Or that Dainik Bhaskar of India holds the record for the largest tea party. She hosted 32,681 people on February 24, 2008. Did you know that Vasilii Hazkevich of Russia holds the record for travelling the furthest by tractor. He travelled 21,199 km in 2005. Were you aware that Ashrita Furman holds the world record for jumping on a pogo stick for twenty-three miles? Or that Suresh Joachim of Sri Lanka balanced on one foot for seventy-six hours and forty minutes? Did you know that Stephen Clark holds the world record for pumpkin carving? He carved a pumpkin in twenty-four seconds.

But when you come down to it, what difference does it really make? And for whom? What difference does it make in the whole scheme of things? What does it matter how long anyone could stand on one foot, or carve a pumpkin or jump on a pogo stick? And yet these records are kept, and people keep trying to do better in order to get their names published in a book. And obviously other people buy the book and are fascinated by the many feats that are accomplished.

And so we come to the wedding feast in Cana. The “wow” factor in the story is astounding. It is one amazing fact after another. It is a Guinness World Book of Records in itself. Five hundred litres of wine produced from water! And not just your run of the mill wine! The best wine these people have ever tasted! But I have to ask, what difference did it make? Who even knew that Jesus had performed such a miracle? His mother, his disciples, the stewards who took the wine into the host? Really, who cares?

This miracle is often referred to as the “luxury miracle”. “Was it even necessary?” scholars ask. It took place in the everyday occurrence of a wedding. The same Christ who refused to turn stones into bread to satisfy his own hunger turned water into winae to allow some guests at a wedding to make merry. What is that all about? Apart from helping the host out of an embarrassing situation, it had no lasting effect or benefit on those present.

And so as we look at this story we need to look deeper, past the glitz, past the “wow” factor, past the sensationalism, to the real reason that John told this story in the first place. I think he told it for many good reasons.

He told it because he wants us to remember that we have a God who graces us, who is lavish with love. Our loving God does not worry about what is practical. God does not worry about the impact of God’s actions. God simply connects with humankind where we are. God reaches through time and space to be in relationship with us.

He told it because he wants us to remember that the very ordinariness of life is the source of the celebration. While we in our humanity are impressed by big things, and oppressed by great problems, God demonstrates power in a simple, unassuming way. Observing what God has created should convince us of that. The lacy pattern of a single flake of snow, the beauty of a weed along a country lane, a rainbow in the sky!

The best is simply that there are times when we have no wine. It runs out. It can happen suddenly and without warning. Disaster strikes and we have no energy to face what has happened. A close friend dies, suddenly, without warning. An accidental death rips the whole community apart. The world is ripped apart by terrorism, by pandemic. Haiti's world simply collapsed this past week as it was hit by that devastating earthquake. Imagine the grief of the people. Imagine the chaos that has disrupted their lives. Talk about not having any wine!

But it is not always so sudden. In fact sometimes the wine runs out so gradually that we don’t even notice it happening. The joy simply fades from life. We lose our job. Unemployment insurance runs out. We face sickness in our own lives or in the lives of those we love. We face broken relationships. A marriage falls apart. A child is alienated from the family. We are betrayed, hurt by the actions of a friend.

At those times in our lives we need to know that we can do something about it. The wine that has run out can be replaced. We have resources at our disposal. God will listen to us. We can pray, openly and honestly, knowing that as we come into closer relationship with God that God will reach out to us with that healing touch. God give us friends, people who will listen to us as we pour out the troubles of our hearts. They will hear our pain. In their concern we will find healing.

We can pray. Paul talks about the spiritual gifts that grace our lives. Prayer is surely one of those gifts. God gives us the resources that we need to face the down times in our lives. The Spirit at work in our lives is a miracle. It does not have to be a mountaintop experience. It needs to be whatever brings us into a deeper relationship with God. God will hear our simple, heartfelt prayer asking for help from the depths of our being. God will hear our prayer of thanksgiving. God will hear our anger and hurt. God will hear our prayer for forgiveness.

And we can be perfectly honest with ourselves. We can look at our actions. We can assess the things that have gone on. In all of those ways we can make new wine. We may even discover that the new wine is better than the old. After all, it is enriched by our tears and pain.

We can be open to the gifts that God has given to us, accepting them, using them. The best spiritual gifts are the ones we don’t even know we possess. They are the ones that enhance the life of the whole community. Wise advice, a listening ear, time, joy, thoughtfulness, patience, spirituality …

Paul reminds us that ecstasy or enthusiasm is no criteria for true spirituality. A deep religious experience is just not enough. God is the giver, the source of every gift. Each, even the one that seems the least significant, is a spiritual gift. There needs to be a quality of spirit in the life of the Christian, he tells them, a quality that enhances the life of the whole community. And you know, the wonder of it all is that the gift used for the common good offers the most back to the one who offers it. It makes new wine.

And we can celebrate! We come together as community. We break bread together. We share the cup of wine. We open ourselves up to all of God’s blessings. God is revealed to us, and through us wine is poured out abundantly to a needy world.