Showing posts with label transformation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label transformation. Show all posts

Saturday, August 4, 2018

11th Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 18, Year B

Bringing Meaning to Life

Readings: 2 Samuel 11:26-12:13a; Psalm 51:1-13; Ephesians 4:1-16; John 6:24-35

David’s behaviour is nothing short of scandalous. In our world of twitters and tweets and Facebook it would have been out in a matter of minutes. Even in David’s time such events are not kept secret for long. First of all David is lounging at home while his men are fighting his battles. Then he becomes so enthralled with a woman that he takes her and then has her husband killed to cover up his misdeeds. Don’t you want to ask David why he thought he could do such a terrible thing? What was he thinking? Did he really think that he could get away with it? Did he think that there would be no price to pay? No doubt he considers that sin is personal, that it is simply an offence against God who will forgive and everything will go on as it always has. But no matter how we might wish it, no matter how we might try to convince ourselves, no sin is an offence only against God. It always hurts others. When the powerful sin it has even graver consequences for society.

Along comes Nathan. How does a prophet survive confronting a powerful king? Nathan is brave to even consider it. His approach is clever. He tells David a story about two people, one rich and powerful; the other poor. The rich man has many flocks and herds. The poor man has a little ewe lamb which he treats as a well-loved pet, a member of the family. A traveller drops in on the rich man. He offers hospitality, but rather than preparing one of his own flock for the traveller, he takes the poor man’s only lamb, slaughters it, and feeds the man. Our sense of justice comes to the forefront when we hear the story. As listeners we become outraged at the actions of a wealthy person who would steal a poor man’s lamb.

David too is outraged. “The man deserves to die. He owes the poor man four times what he took because he had no compassion,” David exclaims. Nathan’s words ring true and cut to the core as he confronts David with his sinful behaviour. “You are the man!” What must it have been like for David to hear those words? Caught out like a naughty child! Nathan reminds him of all that God has done for him and what a terrible deed it was for him to have Uriah killed simply to take his wife. David comes, as we all must, to the realization that he has done a grievous wrong. He repents, but the fact is that he did not count the cost of his sinfulness until confronted by Nathan. He failed to consider the responsibility that comes with power.

There are many examples of it in society today. Consider the #me too movement. People who have been taken advantage of by powerful individuals are finally able to confront their abusers. Not that justice is always served. Powerful individuals are often able to make bad things go away. But the fact that people are able to confront the abuse and take back their power is the beginning of transformation for them. And when abusers do accept responsibility for their actions, it is the beginning of healing for a society badly in need of transformation.

Consider as well Canadian history with respect to our First Nations people. We took away their livelihood, their culture, their family life. We gave them diseases which wiped them out. We made treaties with them which we broke. We moved them away from their ancestral lands onto reserves. Then we took away their children, sending them to Residential Schools where they lost their language and culture, and where many suffered abuse. We are learning, but it is very difficult for people to understand that responsibility needs to be accepted and atonement needs to be made. As an Ambassador for Reconciliation I have heard on more than one occasion that it happened long ago. First Nations people should get over it. That is why it was such a transformative moment for the Canadian Anglican Church when Michael Peers stood before the National Native Convocation in Minaki in 1993 and apologized on behalf of the church. And I quote what he said: “I have heard the voices that have spoken of pain and hurt experienced in the schools, and of the scars which endure to this day. I have felt shame and humiliation as I have heard of suffering inflicted by my people, and as I think of the part our church played in that suffering. I am deeply conscious of the sacredness of the stories that you have told and I hold in the highest honour those who have told them. I have heard with admiration the stories of people and communities who have worked at healing, and I am aware of how much healing is needed. I also know that I am in need of healing, and my own people are in need of healing, and our church is in need of healing. Without that healing, we will continue the same attitudes that have done such damage in the past.”

His apology was graciously accepted, and then the real work of truth and reconciliation began. We listened and responded to the stories of abuse and lost lives and heartache. We began the long process of educating people, not only those in our churches, but also in our communities. As we accepted responsibility for the actions of our church and our nation, it began to transform our souls.

And isn’t that what is needed in our society? Isn’t that what is behind our spiritual search? During a Vacation Bible School in one of the churches I served, we had a mission project. We invited a guest to come to receive what the children had collected. He talked to the children about his mission and then asked if they had any questions. A hand went up. “What is your question?” he asked a six-year-old girl.

“What is the meaning of life?” she asked him. While we tried desperately to contain ourselves, he was at a total loss for words.

Yet we should not be surprised by the question. It is something that consumes us as humans. It eats at us. That very question arises over and over again, particularly when we face troubles in our lives. In fact it is the world’s most asked question. We all seek for meaning in life.

Jesus wanted to bring meaning to the crowds who followed him. “You are looking for me because you ate your fill of the loaves,” Jesus tells them. He knows that they have missed the point. They have witnessed the feeding of the five thousand. If it could happen once, why can it not happen all of the time? If Jesus can perform wonders, perhaps they can harness his power in some way. Perhaps he can pass on his powers to them. Then there would be a constant supply of free food. There would be no more worries, no more hardship or struggle. That would be wonderful, wouldn’t it? Like winning a lottery! Surely God would want that. By fulfilling their material needs, their suffering would end.

But that is a purely materialistic interpretation of what Jesus is saying. He wants them to understand that feeding five thousand people, no matter how extraordinary it is, is not the most important occurrence. The real miracle is the one they have missed out on. The real miracle is the one that can change their lives, not materially, but spiritually. The real miracle is the one who can give meaning and direction to their lives.

It is easy for us as we read the Gospel, to see that the crowd has missed the point. The writer wanted us to recognize it. However, similar experiences in our own lives are more difficult for us to perceive until we reflect back on the impact in our lives. Things become much clearer in hindsight. Such reflections, once we allow them to surface, may leave us with a far clearer understanding of the power of God working in our lives. They can give real meaning to our lives.

A scientist set about to discover the answer to the world’s most asked question. What is the meaning of life? He discovered something that we as Christians have always known. First of all the meaning of life lies in relationship. Secondly, it is about discovering, about making sense of things. Finally and most importantly, he said that meaning comes about through service to others.

We meet as a community of faith because we need to be in relationship with others. People may say that they do not need to go to church to be Christian. They are quite right. But they do need to come to church to fully experience that sense of community. We need community to grow in faith and in relationship to God and to one another. Christ is present to us in the Eucharistic offering of the church. As Jesus becomes the bread of life for us, we are the bread of life for those around us. Jesus is bread for our souls, nourishing, wholesome and life-giving. He is the bread of our Eucharist lying in our outstretched hands. The reality of Christ giving himself totally in the Eucharist is the model and criterion of Christian behaviour. To be like Christ is to love in a life-giving way. It involves being generous, sharing what we have with others. But it is about so much more. We are called to be generous, not just by providing bread but also by sharing the deeper gift of ourselves. Such sharing becomes our purpose in life. It gives present and eternal meaning to life. It transforms our souls!


Friday, August 3, 2012

Proper 18, Year B

Transforming our Souls

David’s behaviour is nothing short of scandalous. In our world of twitters and tweets and Facebook it would have been out in a matter of minutes. Even in David’s time such events are not kept secret for long. First of all David is lounging at home while his men are fighting his battles. Then he becomes so enthralled with a woman that he takes her and then has her husband killed to cover up his misdeeds. Don’t you want to ask David why he thought he could do such a terrible thing? What was he thinking? Did he really think that he could get away with it? Did he think that there would be no price to pay? No doubt he considers that sin is personal, that it is simply an offence against God who will forgive and everything will go on as it always has. But no matter how we might wish it, no matter how we might try to convince ourselves, no sin is an offence only against God. It always hurts others. When the powerful sin it has even graver consequences for society.

Along comes Nathan. How does a prophet survive confronting the king? Nathan is brave to even consider it. His approach is clever. He tells David a story about two people, one rich and powerful; the other poor. The rich man has many flocks and herds. The poor man has a little ewe lamb which he treats as a well-loved pet, a member of the family. A traveller drops in on the rich man. He offers hospitality, but rather than preparing one of his own flock for the traveller, he takes the poor man’s only lamb, slaughters it, and feeds the man. Our sense of justice comes to the forefront when we hear the story. As listeners we become outraged at the actions of a wealthy person who would steal a poor man’s lamb.

David too is outraged. “The man deserves to die. He owes the poor man four times what he took because he had no compassion,” David exclaims. Nathan’s words ring true and cut to the core as he confronts David with his sinful behaviour. “You are the man!” What must it have been like for David to hear those words? Caught out like a naughty child! Nathan reminds him of all that God has done for him and what a terrible deed it was for him to have Uriah killed simply to take his wife. David comes, as we all must, to the realization that he has done a grievous wrong. He repents, but the fact is that he did not count the cost of his sinfulness until confronted by Nathan. He failed to consider the responsibility that comes with power.

There are many examples of it in society today. Consider the abuse at Penn State University. Sandusky, of course, has been convicted and is paying the price for the evil he has done. The university also faces sanctions that will be very difficult to pay. Many people think that the university should not be held accountable for a crime committed by one of its employees. But the fact is that they put football before the lives of the victims. As one commentator put it, ‘They didn’t issue the death penalty to the university. They went further than that. They ordered the university and those who run it to transform their soul.’ That, I would say, is what Nathan did for David. David not only repented; it transformed him. That is the role of the prophet. And we have far too few prophets in our world today.

Closer to home, consider Canadian history with respect to our Aboriginal people. We took away their livelihood, their culture, their family life. We gave them diseases which wiped them out. We made treaties with them which we broke. We moved them away from their ancestral lands onto reserves. Then we took away their children, sending them to Residential Schools where many were abused. Yet it is very difficult for people to understand that atonement needs to be made. It was a transformative moment for the Canadian Anglican Church when Michael Peers stood before the National Native Convocation in Minaki in 1993 and apologized on behalf of the church. And I quote what he said: “I have heard the voices that have spoken of pain and hurt experienced in the schools, and of the scars which endure to this day. I have felt shame and humiliation as I have heard of suffering inflicted by my people, and as I think of the part our church played in that suffering. I am deeply conscious of the sacredness of the stories that you have told and I hold in the highest honour those who have told them. I have heard with admiration the stories of people and communities who have worked at healing, and I am aware of how much healing is needed. I also know that I am in need of healing, and my own people are in need of healing, and our church is in need of healing. Without that healing, we will continue the same attitudes that have done such damage in the past.”

His apology was accepted, and then the real work of truth and reconciliation began. It continues as we listen and respond to the stories of abuse and lost lives and heartache. As we listen to the stories, as we accept responsibility for the actions of our church, it transforms our souls. Then we truly understand the message of the Gospel.

Jesus wanted to transform the souls of the crowds who followed him. “You are looking for me because you ate your fill of the loaves,” Jesus tells them. He knows that they have missed the point. They have witnessed the feeding of the five thousand. If it could happen once, why can it not happen all of the time? If Jesus can perform wonders, perhaps they can harness his power in some way. Perhaps he can pass on his powers to them. Then there would be a constant supply of free food. There would be no more worries, no more hardship or struggle. That would be wonderful, wouldn’t it? Like winning a lottery! Surely God would want that. By fulfilling their material needs, their suffering would end.

But that is a purely materialistic interpretation of what Jesus is saying. He wants them to understand that feeding five thousand people, no matter how extraordinary it is, is not the most important occurrence. The real miracle is the one they have missed out on. The real miracle is the one that can change their lives, not materially, but spiritually. The real miracle is the one who can give meaning and direction to their lives.

It is easy for us as we read the Gospel, to see that the crowd has missed the point. The writer wanted us to recognize it. However, similar experiences in our own lives are more difficult for us to perceive until we reflect back on the impact in our lives. Things become much clearer in hindsight. Such reflections, once we allow them to surface, may leave us with a far clearer understanding of the power of God working in our lives. They can transform our lives.

What is our relationship with Jesus all about? Is it about what we get out of it? Christ is present to us in the Eucharistic offering of the church. As Jesus becomes the bread of life for us, we are the bread of life to those around us. The reality of Christ giving himself totally in the Eucharist is the model and criterion of Christian behaviour. To be like Christ is to love in a life-giving way. It involves being generous, not just by providing bread but by sharing the deeper gift of ourselves. Such sharing becomes our purpose in life. It gives present and eternal meaning to life. Jesus is bread for our souls, nourishing, wholesome and life-giving. He is the bread of our Eucharist lying in our outstretched hands. “Evermore give us this bread.” Transform our souls! Amen

Saturday, January 24, 2009

The Third Sunday after Epiphany, Year B

Finding Excuses

Readings: Jonah 3:1-5, 10; Psalm 62:6-14; 1 Corinthians 7:29-31; Mark 1:14-20

God calls us, not once, but again and again throughout our lives. God calls us to renew our baptismal covenant, to renew our life in Christ. Sometimes we are called to choose new priorities. Sometimes we are called to leave behind the things that have been keeping us from God, things that impede our discipleship. Sometimes we are called to make changes in our lives. Often a call comes to us when we are facing crises in our lives, for those are times when change is not only necessary, but even welcome. Whatever our call, it is a call to action. What is happening right now for us as individuals, as a church, as a nation? More importantly, how will we respond?

I was visiting my sister a number of years ago. I was sitting in the living room with my then teenaged niece. We were chatting, getting caught up. My sister called her to come and help with setting the table. She ignored her completely and kept on talking to me as if she had heard nothing. My sister called again a little louder. Once again it was as if Deirdre had not heard a word that was said. I asked her, “Why aren’t you answering your mother?” Her reply: “She isn’t mad enough yet?” Of course, my sister did eventually really lose her cool. Then Deirdre got up and did as her mother demanded.

Confronted with calls for action from God, we can find many excuses. “I didn’t hear you!” “I don’t understand what you want!” “It’s too hard!” “Find someone else!” “You couldn’t possibly mean me!” The real reason is more likely to be “I don’t want to” or “I’m afraid.

Consider the story of Jonah. God called Jonah to action. He was to go to the people of Nineveh to give them a message from God. God wanted him to tell them that he was going to overthrow them because of the evil things they had done. Jonah was their last chance. And you know! He refused. Like my niece with her mother he heard what God was saying to him. He ignored the message. God went to great lengths to move him to action. He even had him swallowed by a great fish and thrown up on the shores of Nineveh. Still Jonah was reluctant to act. Finally God got through to him. He began his walk through the streets of Nineveh. “Forty days more and Nineveh shall be overthrown!” he cried out to the people. And, much to Jonah’s astonishment, perhaps even disdain, they heard and believed. They changed their ways. They proclaimed a fast and everyone put on sackcloth. The whole of Nineveh’s society got involved in changing their ways. Nineveh was spared.

The story of Nineveh is a prophetic word to its time, challenging the nationalism that limited God’s love to one people, the people of Israel. It is a challenging message to the modern day Church in which Ecumenism seems all but dead. This is the end of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. Last Sunday night in our area a handful of people gathered to celebrate our unity together. It was a wonderful, uplifting service. The speaker was engaging as she spoke of her dedication to the Ecumenical movement and her work in the World Council of Churches. Her message came to the converted. How do we get others to understand that “one church, one faith, one Lord” does not mean “my church, my faith, my Lord”? What a tragedy it is that we cannot eat at the same table? What a tragedy that we allow differing traditions to stand in the way of unity! In our own situation here in the Church Centre, what a tragedy it is that we allow petty differences to destroy our common life. We do not meet together for worship. We do not share a common vision for ministry. How do we change that? How do we transform this place, not so that we become one congregation worshipping in one particular way, but so that we share a vision of what it means to be church? I have to tell you, I struggle with it. I dream of being in a building of our own. It is simply too hard to work this way, to deal with the tensions that exist. Yet God has called us to be the church in this place. God has called us to share ministry? How do we work together to hasten the kingdom of God?

A wave of change swept across the whole world this past week as we all watched the inauguration of Barack Obama, the first black president of the United States. In a world that focuses on the differences between people, a world that divides itself culturally, racially, nationally, barriers came down. It is there in his message, “This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed, why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent mall. And why a man whose father less than 60 years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.” What a radical change it is! What an amazing moment it was in the history of the world! There is no doubt in my mind that it is a response to God’s call on the part of a nation.

The call of the disciples is a story of how ordinary people are called to serve God. Jesus comes to Galilee with his message of the coming of the kingdom of God. Like John he calls for the people to repent and change their way of life. It is a call to action. He calls them to turn their whole lives around and act on the good news that is being proclaimed. He calls the people to radical change. Sometimes it is a call to leave the comfort and security of one’s livelihood. That is certainly the case as he calls the disciples away from their nets.

It is as he passes along the Sea of Galilee that he sees Simon and his brother Andrew casting their nets into the sea. Jesus simply says to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.”

It is a memorable line in scripture. It speaks to each of us. We find ourselves drawn into the story. At the same time, we wonder how we might respond, or even if we would respond. Most of us would be reluctant to do as Andrew and Simon did. To simply drop what we are doing and change the course of our lives! That kind of change takes planning. It takes careful consideration.

Yet can we see how it might happen, how they might immediately respond to Jesus’ request? Some people respond to the call of conversion immediately. They receive some flash of insight, a moment of enlightenment or awakening, and they become different people. Perhaps they are just sitting on the edge of life waiting for the call to something worthwhile. If the right person comes along with the right call they are up and away. They have been secretly longing for it. Life has prepared them for it. They did not choose it. It chose them.

The truth about following the call of God is that we cannot let our fears and insecurities about what might happen hold us back. We need to discern that it is indeed God calling us. We need to discern what it is that God is calling us to do. We need to bring it to God in prayer. If it rings true, then the way forward, the way to respond, will emerge. We can be sure that we are all called – called to repentance, called to transformation, called to be the people of God, called to be witnesses to the love of God in Christ Jesus, called to be.

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 ...