Showing posts with label Proper 14. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Proper 14. Show all posts

Saturday, July 7, 2018

Proper 14, Year B

Just Get Over It

Readings:
2 Samuel 5:1-5, 9-10
Psalm 48
2 Corinthians 12:2-10
Mark 6:1-13

Growing up the middle child of five had its challenges. There was one particular evening when I was left in charge of my brother four years younger than I. Patrick was to say the least, a handful. During the course of the evening we had an argument over something or other and Patrick flung his shoe at me, I ducked and it hit a lovely Italian ceramic tiled bowl, a gift that my mother cherished. When my parents came home I explained what had happened, and instead of being angry with Patrick it became and was known ever after as the bowl Ann broke. I did duck, after all.

Fast forward to my parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary. I searched and found a bowl very much like the one that had been broken all those years ago. I wrapped it beautifully and presented it to my mother. She opened it and exclaimed, “That’s just like the one you broke!” There are some things in life that simply never get forgotten.

Jesus had that experience. He was preaching in his hometown synagogue. His message and ministry there were heckled and rejected. People were not able or willing to understand how he could speak with such authority and wisdom. “Where does it all come from?” they ask. After all, isn’t he just a carpenter, the son of Mary? Joe’s kid from down the street? Don’t some of his brothers still live in the town? While they acknowledge his wisdom and power they cannot really accept it. After all, they knew him when he was growing up.

Jesus doesn’t really give it a second thought. He doesn’t let it consume him. “Prophets are not without honour, except in their hometown, and among their kin, and in their own house,” he comments. Jesus is simply saying that this is the way things are.

Families and people who have known us our whole lives have a habit of cutting us down to size, sometimes gently, often harshly. You can grow up and mature and have a respectable position in the community and still be remembered as the brat who was always getting into trouble. You can be a dependable parent yourself and still be reminded about your teen years when you tried your parents’ patience by coming in late. People can even take offense at your achievements. Human nature being what it is, rather than admit blindness to someone’s growth and change we become angry. How dare he or she prove our assumptions so wrong?

Jesus knew that his disciples would also face rejection. He prepared them for it. He gave them some directions, some rules. They had to take care of their own travel. That is what the staff and sandals were for. But for the rest of their needs they were to depend on the hospitality and resources of the community.

What was it that Jesus wanted the disciples to learn as he sent them out? He has nurtured them. Now he gives them responsibility and the opportunity to decide and respond and to act on their own. He sends them out in pairs. We need mutual support and encouragement. How important it is to have feedback on how your ministry is going! But most of all he is teaching them that they are to rely on God. They are to have no reliance upon their own means. Messengers who wish to provide for every emergency simply do not have enough faith. How can you believe the word of those who rely on their resources rather than on the message they proclaim? They are to make use of what is provided, but things are in no way to become a hindrance to them.

Most of us do not have the ability or opportunity to come to such an understanding as the disciples did through an experience provided for their learning. Unfortunately in our human fallibility, it takes the crunches, the difficult times of life to bring us closer to God. It is times of affliction, trouble and adversity that cause us to seek refuge and dependence on a higher power.

For one it might be a diagnosis of cancer. How does one deal with the initial shock of the illness? How does one deal with the resulting treatments that leave one physically and emotionally spent? How does one deal with friends who find such illness threatening? How does one face one’s own sense of mortality?

For another it might be the death of a loved one after a long illness. The prospect of a life alone! How does one fill lonely days, which have been spent in the care and nurture of one who has been ill? How does one deal with feelings of inadequacy and guilt? How does one deal with anger at being abandoned?

For another it may be the loss of a job after a lifetime of dedicated service. How does one begin again? How does one face the financial crunch of being out of work or the feelings of inadequacy, as one gets turned down for job after job in these difficult economic times? How does one even get up in the morning knowing that there is no job to go to?

It was a crunch time for the apostle Paul that brought him to know that he could depend on God for his needs. He shares at a very deep level about a spiritual experience in his life. It is far from clear just what he experienced, but such things are often beyond words. Then he admits that it was the thorn in his flesh whatever that might have been, and not the mystical experience that caused him to put his reliance on God. He kept asking God to remove the “thorn”. Finally he accepted God’s response. “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.”

By ourselves we are inadequate to deal with our brokenness. The things that happen to us, the tragedies and difficult times, cause us to question our faith. Can that same brokenness which leads us to seek God help us in some tangible way to cling to God? Can the memory of our brokenness help us to hold on to that sense of dependency when things are going well? Can the reminders of our brokenness prevent us from going backwards in our faith journey?

Henri Nouwen, a Roman Catholic priest and the author of the book “The Wounded Healer”, explains that it is our brokenness that allows us to minister to others. It provides us with an understanding of the brokenness of others. In our brokenness we reach out in compassion to others.

I can well imagine that it was Jesus’ compassion for those in need, which led him to give authority to the twelve whom he had chosen. He certainly intended that in this first period of preaching, they would learn that his power extended beyond his presence and could even be delegated to them. They would learn to depend on God for their needs. They would learn that God could supply their temporal needs. They would learn that despite opposition, God would not fail them. They would learn that even in their weakness they could depend on God.

“My grace is sufficient for you,” God is saying to each one of us. Can we open ourselves to God working through our weaknesses? Can we see God’s grace at work in our lives? Can we learn that reliance on God will help us, not only in our daily lives, but will allow us, in compassion to reach out to others? Amen.

Saturday, July 8, 2017

Proper 14, Year A

Comfortable Words

Readings: Genesis 24:34-48, 58-67; Psalm 45:11-18; Romans 7:15-25a; Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30

Jesus is in a pensive mood. “We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not mourn,” he says, and then goes on to reflect on the life of John the Baptist as well as his own situation. John the Baptist lived simply, practicing ascetic behaviour that put him at odds with society. Jesus points out that because he wouldn’t dance he was considered to be a madman.

Jesus, on the other hand, lived life and laughed and welcomed all kinds of people. He ate and drank with outcasts and sinners. Yet his Jewish contemporaries condemned him. Because he didn’t mourn with them when they “wailed” they wrote him off as a glutton and a drunkard.

“You just cannot win,” Jesus seems to be saying. And we can all relate. We have all felt that way at one time or another. We do everything we can and find ourselves being criticized. It happens in family relationships. It happens in our work. It happens in churches. It happens when society looks at the church and finds it wanting, considers it hypocritical. Jesus is feeling down about it, but not for long. There comes a change of tone. How did he chase the blues away? How did he bring things back into perspective?

It seems to me that it happened through opening himself up to the wider mission, to the larger picture as he considered the task God had in mind for him. And from his prayerful reflection came a newfound awareness of the state of the human condition. He perceived the heavy load that we carry as a result of our humanity. He understood the sense of loss that we all feel.

That is what is reflected in the words that follow. "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens,” Jesus says, “and I will give you rest." 'The comfortable words' we call them in the Book of Common Prayer. And on the surface they are comfortable, for with them Jesus extends an invitation to us. It is an invitation that offers fulfillment. It is an invitation to unload the heavy burdens we carry. Or if not to unload them, at least to have someone share in bearing the load. Who has not felt at one time or another the cares and burdens of life? Finding our way through life is tiring. We suffer through no fault of our own. From unemployment, unexpected expenses, marital discord, depression, illness, loss, fear! We can easily become overwhelmed with life.

On the other hand, many people go through life carrying heavy loads of their own making. They let life make them weary. They remember everything that ever happened to them. They remember the harm and damage done to them far better than the joy and affirmation they received. They won't eat macaroni and cheese because it reminds them of tough times when that was all they had to eat. They don't relate to certain groups of people because once long ago someone said something or did something to harm them. They end a friendship because of some little thing that happened. Years later even though they have forgotten the details they avoid that person. They are in fact a terrible burden both to themselves and to those around them. They never forgive; they never forget.

All of us know such people. If we are honest with ourselves, we have all been there. There is something of them in each of us.

We also know people who are able to overcome great suffering and turn it into powerful ministry. We know that they have not had an easy time. We have heard bits and pieces of their story. They have overcome great obstacles in their own lives. Yet they have time for a cup of tea with a friend. They have time to listen to the pain of others. They may not have much to say, no great words of wisdom. But they are the ones to whom we turn when we need a listening ear. Henri Nouwen, theologian and writer, calls them the “wounded healers” of our world.

What do such people possess that helps them not only to deal with what happens to them in life, but to reach out to others with the love of God? They have allowed themselves to be touched by Jesus. They have given the heavy burdens of life to him to carry. They have found rest for their souls.

There is a scene from the movie The Mission that speaks to me of that need to rid ourselves of our burdens. It is the story of the Jesuit mission in South America. The movie is about their mission to the Guarani, a tribe the Spanish are attempting to wipe out. One of the central figures in the movie is Mendoza, a slave trader who makes his living trapping these same people. After he kills his brother in a flash of anger, he yearns for redemption. The missionaries assign him a penance. He must climb a huge cliff by a steep waterfall, dragging behind him a net filled with armour. Again and again he attempts to scale the cliff only to have the net drag him down. In the end it is one of the Guarani, who cuts the heavy weight from his back. The anger drains from him and he collapses in a fit of laughter freed by the very people he has persecuted.

Many of us go through life without ever letting go of our burdens. We get used to the weight. We become somehow attached to them. Imagine yourself trudging along a road. The air is stifling hot. You are weighed down by a heavy backpack. With every step you take you wonder if it will be your last. A car stops beside you. A friend offers you a lift. You gratefully get into the car but you never remove the backpack. You continue to bear the full weight of the load even when you are in the car.

It doesn’t make sense, does it? Yet when we are offered forgiveness we often choose to hang on to guilt. When we are offered help we often choose to go it alone.

If you are experiencing loss and grief, is there some way God wants to use your experience to bring life to others? If your life is going well, how can you give a little bit more of your time, treasure and talents to ease somebody else's pain? It begins by turning your burdens over to Jesus, by leaving them at the foot of the cross.

Life will continue to put obstacles in the way. Life is like that. To be human is to suffer. But yoked to Jesus we will be better off. His yoke will be lighter in the long run than the one we are carrying. It will mean the end of much of the tension and depression that weighs us down. It will end the discouragement and negativity under which we live. With our burden lighter, we will travel lighter and breathe more easily. It is so much easier to carry our burden when someone is sharing the load.

What is the yoke that we will be taking up? Is it the world with all of its problems? The starving, the deprived the oppressed! It is difficult to imagine that such a yoke could be easy. But it is the yoke of our Lord, the yoke he asks us to take upon ourselves. Taking up that yoke, we can lay claim to his promises that we will find rest for our souls. Amen.

Saturday, July 2, 2016

Proper 14, Year C

No One is an Island

Readings: 1 Kings 21:1-3, 17-21; Psalm 5:1-8; Galatians 6:7-18; Luke 10:1-12, 17-20

John Donne writes: (No apology given for the change to inclusive language!)

No one is an island,
Entire of itself,
Everyone is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend's
Or of thine own were:
Any one’s death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in humankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.

No! I am not making a statement about Brexit, although I suspect it applies quite nicely. The theme in Donne’s poem resonates with today’s readings. They all point to our need of God’s grace and of our need to share it for the empowerment of ourselves and others. No one walks alone through life. There is an interdependency on others and on God, no matter how hard we try to make it otherwise.

That is very much the lesson that Naaman learns. Naaman is the commander of the army of the king of Aram. He is a great man, honoured in his country because of his leadership. This man who possesses great power has to learn the hard lesson that he is human and vulnerable, that he needs the help of others, and that there are other kinds of power beyond his own. He has leprosy, not the virulent disease that would have banished him into exile, more of a skin condition, but difficult all the same for a man of his position to deal with. He tries every possible cure, but nothing works. His wife’s maid, a young woman from Israel, one totally void of power, tells him about the prophet Elisha who may be able to cure him. He doesn’t take any chances. He gets the king of Aram to write a letter to the king of Israel. He sets off to Israel armed with the letter, along with lots of money and clothing. The king of Israel is mortified. What is going to happen? Is Israel about to be conquered? Elisha calms his fears. “Send him on over. I’ll look after everything!” he says.

And so Naaman arrives with all of his entourage at Elisha’s house. Elisha ignores him. He doesn’t even come out to see him. Instead he sends one of his house servants, “Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean.” What Naaman heard was ‘go jump in the lake’! He is beyond angry. After all, he wants a performance equal to his self-importance. He wants the show that he has paid for. His pride is deeply wounded. He refuses to do as Elisha has told him. After all, he wants life to be easy, but not too easy.

Once again it is one of his servants who persuades him to come to his senses. “If he had told you to do something difficult, you would have done it.” Finally he is able to hear the good sense of what the servant is saying. He does as Elisha has told him. No doubt kicking and screaming and complaining of the cold, dirty water, he immerses himself seven times in the Jordan, and he is healed.

It is a wonderful story that reminds us of the struggle most of us have in accepting help. It is a wonderful reminder that there are sources of grace other than those we know in our public lives.

Jesus’ disciples too must learn to depend on God’s grace for their needs. Jesus empowers them to go out into the society around them, to share the good news of what they have come to believe and experience. They go out trusting that God will provide. They don’t pack a lunch. They don’t take money – not even an extra pair of sandals. They stay wherever they are welcomed. And they come back filled with stories and experiences of God at work in and through them. They are happy, not because of their newfound power, but because they belong to God. They know that the glory belongs to God, not to them. They know that they are utterly dependent on God, and that they can trust God to be there in all of their needs.

But that is then, and this is now. In a period in the world’s history when terrorism seems to be all around us, isn’t it better to be an island, to become protective as a community? Our world, after all, is not so different from that of Jesus. The disciples go out, not expecting universal interest and welcome, but knowing that they may be put down.

We are meant to be thrust out, like lambs in the midst of wolves into our secular and revolutionary world. Our role is unlikely to be that of evangelist. It is more likely to be what St. Francis proposed. Preach the Gospel. Use words when necessary. We preach with our lives. We relate to people day by day.

That was the most powerful experience that I had on the Camino. True! People walking the Camino are pilgrims, open to God at work in their lives, whatever God means to them. They are looking for spiritual fulfillment. I was surprised at how many people were walking on their own, not in any group. I became a listener as I walked with strangers whom I overtook on the road. Sometimes I walked with them for only a few minutes before I moved on at my own pace. I heard their stories, their struggles, their heartaches. One time it was simply helping someone struggling up a hill to get water out of her backpack, and encouraging her to continue putting one foot in front of the other when she was tempted to give up. Other times it was pulling out my First Aid kit and offering a compeed to treat a blister. Often it was helping to discern the right path on a tricky part of the trail. And when we parted ways, I continued to pray for those I met, that God would bless them. Several times I met them again at the end of the day in a cafĂ© or at the auberge. I recognized that as they shared their pains and joys with me, I was able to minister to them, not because I am a priest. For the most part they did not know that I was. If it helped to heal loneliness or to raise someone out of despair or to restore someone’s dignity, or to help them in their discernment process, or to comfort them in their pain, then I was seeing Christ in them and allowing them to see Christ in me.

No one is an island. Like the seventy Jesus sent out, we are called to seek out people who will respond. We are to listen to them, to share with them in their pain and their joy. We are to meet their needs. We are to relate to them the gospel message that God loves them and is the answer to their deepest needs. We are called to allow God to work through us. We are called to responsible action, to finding the ways and means that others can know God. We are called to live out the Gospel message in our lives. It is a call to respond in the way we live and work. May we know the urgency of that call! May we respond and live in love as God has called us. Amen.

Saturday, July 5, 2014

4th Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 14, Year A

Stress Management

Readings:
Gen 24:34-38, 42-49. 58-67; Psalm 45:11-18, Rom 7:15-25a; Matt 11:16-19, 25-30

"Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest." 'The comfortable words' we call them in the Book of Common Prayer. With them Jesus extends an invitation to each of us. It is an invitation that offers fulfillment. It is an invitation to unload the heavy burdens we carry. It is, if you will, Jesus’s pep talk on Stress Management. Who has not felt at one time or another the cares and burdens of life? Finding our way through life is tiring. We suffer through no fault of our own. From unemployment, unexpected expenses, marital discord, depression, illness, loss, fear! We can easily become overwhelmed with life.

On the other hand, many people go through life carrying heavy loads of their own making. They let life make them weary. They remember everything that ever happened to them. They remember the harm and damage done to them far better than the joy and affirmation they received. They won't eat macaroni and cheese because it reminds them of tough times when that was all they had to eat. They don't relate to certain groups of people because once long ago someone said something or did something to harm them. They end a friendship because of some little thing that happened. Years later even though they have forgotten the details they avoid that person. They are in fact a terrible burden both to themselves and to those around them. They never forgive; they never forget.

All of us know such people. If we are honest with ourselves, we have all been there. There is something of them in each of us.

We also know people who are able to overcome great suffering and turn it into powerful ministry. We know that they have not had an easy time. We have heard bits and pieces of their story. They have overcome great obstacles in their own lives. Yet they have time for a cup of tea with a friend. They have time to listen to the pain of others. They may not have much to say, no great words of wisdom. But they are the ones we turn to when we need a listening ear. Henri Nouwen, theologian and writer, calls them the “wounded healers” of our world.

I have such a friend. It often seemed to me when I first met her that she was not for real. She is the embodiment of selfless love. She never has a bad word for anyone. In fact she finds a way to excuse bad behaviour. I thought mistakenly that she must be from a sheltered background, but that is far from the case. She grew up with abuse, with being told that she was stupid, useless and a financial burden.

I asked her how she kept such a positive outlook on life, so free of bitterness. “I left home at sixteen,” she told me. “I started to become bitter, but then I decided to forgive my parents every day. I think that is what has made the difference. Even though I have lived apart from them all these years, I still keep in touch and try to keep the lines of communication open. There is no point in bitterness.”

Another such story is that of a friend of mine. She and her husband waited until quite late in life to begin a family. Early in the pregnancy they learned that the child would be born with Downs Syndrome. Abortion was suggested as an option, but it was not an option for them. Instead they learned everything they could about Downs. Because there were few resources in their small town, they turned to the church. Through their congregation they set up a support group. When their little girl was born they loved her and helped her to live to her full potential. They continue to support others in their community. In the process they have learned the joy of having a special child in their life.

What do such people possess that helps them not only to deal with what happens to them in life, but to reach out to others with the love of God? They have allowed themselves to be touched by Jesus. They have given the heavy burdens of life to him to carry. They have found rest for their souls.

That is what Jesus offers us in the reading today. “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls." Jesus offers himself to us as the ultimate focus of our life’s longing and searching. He is the bread we hunger for. He is the ultimate relationship we seek. It is the lovely truth at the heart of the Gospel.

“For my yoke is easy,” he continues. “My burden is light.” The yoke was commonly used in Jewish writings as meaning obedience to the law. Jesus is offering an alternative to the often legalistic and harsh adherence to the 'yoke of the law'. A yoke should not be oppressive. After all a yoke is made to ease the task of carrying a heavy load. Had Jesus, the son of Joseph the carpenter, helped to make yokes? They were 'made to measure' for a particular ox. The carpenter would rough out a yoke and then the ox would be brought in to the shop for a fitting. Jewish law had become a burden to people. Jesus offers to make the burden bearable, to lighten the load. His yoke is easy not because it makes lighter demands, but because it brings you into a relationship with Jesus who is gentle of heart.

Yet many of us go through life without ever letting go of our burdens. We get used to the weight. We become somehow attached to them. Imagine yourself trudging along a road. The air is stifling hot. You are weighed down by a heavy backpack. With every step you take you wonder if it will be your last. A car stops beside you. A friend offers you a lift. You gratefully get into the car but you never remove the backpack. You continue to bear the full weight of the load even when you are in the car.

It doesn’t make sense, does it? Yet when we are offered forgiveness we often choose to hang on to guilt. When we are offered help we often choose to go it alone.

If you are experiencing loss and grief, is there some way God wants to use your experience to bring life to others? If your life is going well, how can you give a little bit more of your time, treasure and talents to ease somebody else's pain? It begins by turning your burdens over to Jesus, by leaving them at the foot of the cross.

Life will continue to put obstacles in the way. Life is like that. To be human is to suffer. But yoked to Jesus we will be better off. His yoke will be lighter in the long run than the one we are carrying. It will mean the end of much of the tension and depression that weighs us down. It will end the discouragement and negativity under which we live. With our burden lighter, we will travel lighter and breathe more easily. It is so much easier to carry our burden when someone is sharing the load.

What is the yoke that we will be taking up? Is it the world with all of its problems? The starving, the deprived the oppressed! It is difficult to imagine that such a yoke could be easy. But it is the yoke of our Lord, the yoke he asks us to take upon ourselves. Taking up that yoke, we can lay claim to his promises that we will find rest for our souls. Amen.

Thursday, July 4, 2013

Proper 14, Year C

Leaving Your Baggage Behind

Readings: 1 Kings 21:1-3, 17-21; Psalm 5:1-8; Galatians 6:7-18; Luke 10:1-12, 17-20

The message of the gospel this week is that sometimes in life we feel powerless and must seek a power beyond ourselves. We must learn to depend on God’s grace, our need of it, and our need to share it for the empowerment of others and ourselves. That theme has been with me all week as I have gone about my work. A bumper sticker that I saw the other day brought it all home to me. It proclaimed, “When the world ends the one with the most stuff wins!” It caused me to reflect that most of us don’t travel through this world lightly. We carry a great deal of baggage, emotional and otherwise. It is a big learning for most of us to trust that God can meet our needs. As Christians we know that God’s grace is abundantly available to us. We know how much we need that free gift. But to really depend on God’s grace and God’s grace alone, to follow God’s agenda, is contrary to all that our self-reliant society stands for. It is very difficult for us to even acknowledge that we are in need of God’s grace. We are often unaware of the needs of others. We don’t even see our own neediness. It comes from the self-indulgent behaviour that is so prevalent in our modern day society.

If you don’t think we are self-indulgent, simply walk through a mall observing how people react. People these days expect doors to open for them. They walk around with cell phones to their ears, oblivious to the effect they are having on other people. Most of us give little thought to how dependent we are on other people, never mind on God. When we find ourselves in need, it is very difficult to ask for help.

Not that it is unique to our society or era. I suspect it is part of human nature. It comes through loud and clear in that wonderful narrative that we heard in the Old Testament reading. Naaman is the commander of the army of the king of Aram. He is a great man, honoured in his country because of his leadership. This man who possesses great power has to learn the hard lesson that he is human and vulnerable, and that there are other kinds of power beyond his own. He has leprosy, probably not the virulent disease that would have banished him into exile, but difficult all the same for a man of his position to deal with. He tries every cure possible, but nothing works. His wife’s maid, a young woman from Israel, tells him about the prophet Elisha who may be able to cure him. He doesn’t take any chances. He gets a letter to the king of Israel, lots of money and clothing, and sets off for Israel. After his preliminary visit to a rather astonished and frightened king, he arrives with all of his entourage at Elisha’s house. Elisha doesn’t even come out to see him. Instead he sends a messenger, “Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean.” He might as well have told Naaman to go jump in the lake! Naaman is beyond angry. After all, he wants a performance equal to his self-importance. His pride is deeply wounded. He refuses to do as Elisha has told him.

Once again it is one of his servants who persuades him to come to his senses. “If he had told you to do something difficult, you would have done it.” Finally he is able to hear the good sense of what the servant is saying. He does as Elisha has told him. He immerses himself seven times in the Jordan, and he is made clean.

It is a wonderful story that reminds us of the struggle most of us have in accepting help. It is a wonderful reminder that there are sources of grace other than those we know in our public lives.

Jesus’ disciples too must learn to depend on God’s grace for their needs. Jesus empowers them to go out into the society around them, to share the good news of what they have come to believe and experience. They go out trusting that God will provide. They don’t pack a lunch. They don’t take money, or even an extra pair of sandals. They stay wherever they are welcomed. And they come back filled with stories and experiences of God at work in and through them. They are happy, not because of their new found power, but because they belong to God. They know that the glory belongs to God, not to them. They know that they are utterly dependent on God, and that they can trust God to be there in all of their needs.

How do we learn to be grace-filled people, dependent on God for our needs? How do we put God’s grace into action in our world? For most of us it begins with learning that we need God and that we can depend on God to meet our needs. I can certainly think of times in my life when it became abundantly clear to me that I had a share in God’s grace and that God would be there in my needs. It has usually been times when I needed God and made an active decision to trust that God would meet my needs.

When I was studying theology I did some courses in urban ministry. The first year I worked in a Food Bank. Most often my job was at the intake desk. I would interview people and make recommendations for how to help them. The desk was at the entrance to the building. I would watch people walk back and forth in front of the building, sometimes for ten or fifteen minutes before they came in. I wondered what kept them from just coming in. We always helped them. For many people, just to say ‘I need’ was very difficult.

Then I did a course that required a ‘plunge’. To pass we needed to spend a weekend on the streets. The weekend our supervisor chose for us was the middle of a rather cold November. “Take no money, no sleeping bag, no food!” we were told. “You can sleep outside, or you can find a hostel to stay in.” I felt like a lamb amongst wolves. It was a terrifying but life-changing experience!

I found myself walking back and forth outside a hostel trying to get up the courage to go inside and ask for a place to stay for the night. It was just so difficult to say, “I need”! When I did I received the help I needed. I learned a great deal about myself that weekend. I learned a great deal about people, about how dependent we are on one another, about how kind we can be; and I learned that I could trust God to take care of me.

There were some wonderful moments that weekend. At the intake, the supervisor noticed my uneasiness – more about the lies I needed to tell than about my situation. She produced some bath salts and suggested I soak in a nice tub. When I related that part of my experience to others in the group they were incredulous.

There was the young woman who took me to church. “You look like the kind of person who would come to church with me,” she said. I looked at my blue jeans and sweat shirt. “It doesn’t matter what you are wearing,” she told me. And so off we went. I thought it would be to a church close to the hostel, but no. We went to Timothy Eaton Memorial. I hung back at the door, but she grabbed me by the arm and marched up the aisle close to the front of the church where she sang every hymn as loudly as she could.

We don’t all need to take a ‘plunge’ to learn that God takes care of our needs. We do need to learn to depend on God’s grace. We do need to get rid of some of our baggage.

Like the seventy Jesus sent out, we are called to seek out people who will respond. We are to listen to them, to share with them in their pain and their joy. We are to meet their needs. We are to relate to them the gospel message that God loves them and is the answer to their deepest needs. We are called to allow God to work through us. We are called to responsible action, to finding the ways and means so that others can come to know God. We are called to live out the Gospel message in our lives. It is a call to respond in the way we live and work. May we know the urgency of that call! May we respond and live in love as God has called us. Amen.

The Second Sunday after Epiphany, Year A

Come and See Readings: Isaiah 49:1-7; Psalm 40:1-11; 1 Corinthians 1:1-9; John 1:29-42 Invitations come in many shapes and sizes. They ...