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.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Friday, January 8, 2010
Baptism of Our Lord, Year C
Beloved of God
Readings: Isaiah 43:1-7; Psalm 29; Acts 8:14-17; Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
Luke’s account of the baptism of Jesus is nothing extraordinary. He is simply one of the many people in the that day who come out to the wilderness to be baptised by John. It is not until after his baptism while he is praying that the Holy Spirit comes to him in a special way. A voice proclaims, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” This call from God, this naming, is not something that those around him hear. But Jesus hears and understands. Beloved, the voice from Heaven proclaims. It is spoken with such power that it brings with it a change in direction in Jesus' life. Beloved, that name spoken and taken in by Jesus equips him to do the ministry for which God has called him. With that naming of Beloved Jesus assumes his prophetic call.
It is a watershed moment in his’ life. A new light suddenly dawns on him, a new beginning. Beloved becomes the name that he carries with him into his life, into his teachings. It is the name he gives to those he meets, those in need of healing, those in need of inclusion, those in need of hope, those in need of love.
This naming of Jesus as Beloved celebrates his uniqueness and his role as a model for all who will be baptised. Baptism is a radical moment in the lives of each of us. One person described it as “this holy moment when we are named by God's grace with such power it won't come undone.” God names us Beloved. For by baptism, we share in the same relationship and mission that God had with Jesus. Baptism is a gift and a calling. It initiates the work of God and Christ in and through us. It commissions and empowers us for ministry. It is a naming of who we are and what we will become.
For most of us though, it does not seem to be a very radical occurrence. If you are a “cradle” Anglican it is highly unlikely that you even remember anything about your baptism. Your parents likely brought you for baptism as an infant. There were no claps of thunder. There was no voice from Heaven, at least not audible to you or those around you. And yet you need to understand that something very significant happened that can sustain you throughout the whole of your life. For Baptism identified you as God's Beloved, as Christ’s own. It is the most important event in your Christian life.
Each of us is called, by virtue of our baptism to share in the ministry of Christ. Through baptism we respond to an intimate call to become known by God's name. By baptism we share in the same relationship and mission that God had with Jesus. It empowers us to stand with those whom the world sees as unlovely and unlovable and to affirm that in God's realm there is compassion. Baptism initiates the work of the Spirit in and through us. It gives us the responsibility for others. It identifies us as God's children and servants. It calls us to action.
Today as we celebrate the baptism of our Lord, we will renew our own baptismal covenant. How do we respond to the promises made at our baptism? Somehow or other we need to accept them as our own. We need to take responsibility for our Christian life. We need to accept the relationship to God, which was formalized at our baptism. We need to accept that God has called each of us. We accept those words of Isaiah, “I have called you by name, you are mine.”
The prophet Isaiah was speaking to the Israelites who were going through a time of tribulation and unrest. He is reminding them that despite all indications to the contrary, God is faithful. God has chosen them to be God's people, God's beloved. They will pass through troubling times over and over again. “When you will pass throught the waters,” God tells them, “I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.” When things happen to us, we get stuck. We forget that God has been there for us in the past. We forget that while bad things have happened, we have not been forgotten by God. In fact sometimes it seems that it is more that we have forgotten that we belong to God, that we are beloved of God.
That realization comes to us through God’s Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is not some mysterious and unattainable gift. It is meant to be part of the experience of each one of us. That is the story behind the reading from the Acts of the Apostles. Peter and John have gone to Samaria to be with those who have been converted and baptised. Their task it to pray that these people might receive the Holy Spirit. What they do is simply to affirm what God is doing in the life of the community. We do not have to look for some unusual happening in our lives. We do not have to speak in tongues or proclaim great prophetic words. We do need to recognize the times when God is truly present with us. Then we will know and understand that indeed the spirit is upon us.
Early in the New Year, a parishioner said to me, "we need to share good news, good stories of what is happening in our lives. Good things that God is doing in our lives." She is so right. Good things are happening in this parish. Good things are happening to people in our parish. Is it not wonderful news that we were able to raise more funds for FaithWorks than last year? Is it not wonderful that our congregation is growing? Is it not wonderful news that even in the midst of difficulty, if we look for God, God is there?
I know that many of you are aware of how God is at work in your lives. I know because you tell me. We need to share those good news stories with each other.
God has called us by name. The question remains, will we accept the mission and ministry that God is calling us to? We moan that the church is a dying institution. It will not be a dying institution if we all take our ministry as the people of God seriously. We often think that ministry is for those who are trained. But more often all it takes is being a good listener. It may seem as if one is doing nothing. But in this day and age when no one has time for anyone else, a listening ear is a fine gift.
Praise is a fine gift as well. Praise helps immeasurably one whose self-esteem is low. Yet what a small gift it is. And it is one that we all have an opportunity to use. If we do, it will make a radical difference to our community.
We need to practice the gift of compassion. We live in a lonely society where many need to feel that they are loved.
Hope is such an important gift in our day. We can look around us at the state of society and simply give up. The ability to offer hope to one who is suffering or lonely or afraid can turn a life around.
The opportunities for ministry are all around us. Such opportunities build up the life of the community. And the most wonderful thing about ministry is that through reaching out to others, our own lives are enriched. We are brought into a closer relationship with God and with other people. So take it in. Really know it and understand it. God has called you by name, and you belong to God.
It was quite an event, my baptism. Not that I remember it! Oh! I have heard the stories about that day. So even though my memory does not hold it, I know that it was the most important day in my life. The fact that I am baptised fills me with sheer wonder. To know, to really know that I am God's child, God's Beloved, is a source of deep joy. That is what keeps me praying that I will live faithfully as God's child. In the silence of my heart I imagine God proclaiming, “Here is another one of my beloved children!” Amen.
Readings: Isaiah 43:1-7; Psalm 29; Acts 8:14-17; Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
Luke’s account of the baptism of Jesus is nothing extraordinary. He is simply one of the many people in the that day who come out to the wilderness to be baptised by John. It is not until after his baptism while he is praying that the Holy Spirit comes to him in a special way. A voice proclaims, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” This call from God, this naming, is not something that those around him hear. But Jesus hears and understands. Beloved, the voice from Heaven proclaims. It is spoken with such power that it brings with it a change in direction in Jesus' life. Beloved, that name spoken and taken in by Jesus equips him to do the ministry for which God has called him. With that naming of Beloved Jesus assumes his prophetic call.
It is a watershed moment in his’ life. A new light suddenly dawns on him, a new beginning. Beloved becomes the name that he carries with him into his life, into his teachings. It is the name he gives to those he meets, those in need of healing, those in need of inclusion, those in need of hope, those in need of love.
This naming of Jesus as Beloved celebrates his uniqueness and his role as a model for all who will be baptised. Baptism is a radical moment in the lives of each of us. One person described it as “this holy moment when we are named by God's grace with such power it won't come undone.” God names us Beloved. For by baptism, we share in the same relationship and mission that God had with Jesus. Baptism is a gift and a calling. It initiates the work of God and Christ in and through us. It commissions and empowers us for ministry. It is a naming of who we are and what we will become.
For most of us though, it does not seem to be a very radical occurrence. If you are a “cradle” Anglican it is highly unlikely that you even remember anything about your baptism. Your parents likely brought you for baptism as an infant. There were no claps of thunder. There was no voice from Heaven, at least not audible to you or those around you. And yet you need to understand that something very significant happened that can sustain you throughout the whole of your life. For Baptism identified you as God's Beloved, as Christ’s own. It is the most important event in your Christian life.
Each of us is called, by virtue of our baptism to share in the ministry of Christ. Through baptism we respond to an intimate call to become known by God's name. By baptism we share in the same relationship and mission that God had with Jesus. It empowers us to stand with those whom the world sees as unlovely and unlovable and to affirm that in God's realm there is compassion. Baptism initiates the work of the Spirit in and through us. It gives us the responsibility for others. It identifies us as God's children and servants. It calls us to action.
Today as we celebrate the baptism of our Lord, we will renew our own baptismal covenant. How do we respond to the promises made at our baptism? Somehow or other we need to accept them as our own. We need to take responsibility for our Christian life. We need to accept the relationship to God, which was formalized at our baptism. We need to accept that God has called each of us. We accept those words of Isaiah, “I have called you by name, you are mine.”
The prophet Isaiah was speaking to the Israelites who were going through a time of tribulation and unrest. He is reminding them that despite all indications to the contrary, God is faithful. God has chosen them to be God's people, God's beloved. They will pass through troubling times over and over again. “When you will pass throught the waters,” God tells them, “I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.” When things happen to us, we get stuck. We forget that God has been there for us in the past. We forget that while bad things have happened, we have not been forgotten by God. In fact sometimes it seems that it is more that we have forgotten that we belong to God, that we are beloved of God.
That realization comes to us through God’s Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is not some mysterious and unattainable gift. It is meant to be part of the experience of each one of us. That is the story behind the reading from the Acts of the Apostles. Peter and John have gone to Samaria to be with those who have been converted and baptised. Their task it to pray that these people might receive the Holy Spirit. What they do is simply to affirm what God is doing in the life of the community. We do not have to look for some unusual happening in our lives. We do not have to speak in tongues or proclaim great prophetic words. We do need to recognize the times when God is truly present with us. Then we will know and understand that indeed the spirit is upon us.
Early in the New Year, a parishioner said to me, "we need to share good news, good stories of what is happening in our lives. Good things that God is doing in our lives." She is so right. Good things are happening in this parish. Good things are happening to people in our parish. Is it not wonderful news that we were able to raise more funds for FaithWorks than last year? Is it not wonderful that our congregation is growing? Is it not wonderful news that even in the midst of difficulty, if we look for God, God is there?
I know that many of you are aware of how God is at work in your lives. I know because you tell me. We need to share those good news stories with each other.
God has called us by name. The question remains, will we accept the mission and ministry that God is calling us to? We moan that the church is a dying institution. It will not be a dying institution if we all take our ministry as the people of God seriously. We often think that ministry is for those who are trained. But more often all it takes is being a good listener. It may seem as if one is doing nothing. But in this day and age when no one has time for anyone else, a listening ear is a fine gift.
Praise is a fine gift as well. Praise helps immeasurably one whose self-esteem is low. Yet what a small gift it is. And it is one that we all have an opportunity to use. If we do, it will make a radical difference to our community.
We need to practice the gift of compassion. We live in a lonely society where many need to feel that they are loved.
Hope is such an important gift in our day. We can look around us at the state of society and simply give up. The ability to offer hope to one who is suffering or lonely or afraid can turn a life around.
The opportunities for ministry are all around us. Such opportunities build up the life of the community. And the most wonderful thing about ministry is that through reaching out to others, our own lives are enriched. We are brought into a closer relationship with God and with other people. So take it in. Really know it and understand it. God has called you by name, and you belong to God.
It was quite an event, my baptism. Not that I remember it! Oh! I have heard the stories about that day. So even though my memory does not hold it, I know that it was the most important day in my life. The fact that I am baptised fills me with sheer wonder. To know, to really know that I am God's child, God's Beloved, is a source of deep joy. That is what keeps me praying that I will live faithfully as God's child. In the silence of my heart I imagine God proclaiming, “Here is another one of my beloved children!” Amen.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Epiphany, Year C
Because God Deserves the Best
Readings: Isaiah 60:1-6; Psalm 72:1-14; Ephesians 3:1-12; Matthew 2:1-12
In his book, "Brother to a Dragonfly" Will Campbell, a civil rights activist, writer, and sometimes Baptist preacher tells a story about a bathrobe his Aunt Bettye received one Christmas. “And she wore the flannel bathrobe to church the very first Sunday after Christmas. Because it was the prettiest thing she had ever seen and the Lord deserved the best. And because it was 1933, and she didn't have a bathroom.”
How different from Christmas, 2009! At the top of children's wish lists to Santa this year were scampering hamsters called Zhu Zhus, a princess and a transforming robot. One parent got to the toy store intent upon purchasing a Zhu Zhu for her daughter only to find that they were sold out. She was almost in tears as she asked the clerk, “What am I going to tell my daughter on Christmas morning?”
If I were she I would begin by telling her the story of Aunt Bettye's flannel robe. And then I would go on to recount the story of Jesus. I would tell her about the Son of God, born in the smelly straw of a barn because there was no room for him in the inn. I would tell her about a family fleeing for their lives with their young child. I would tell her about a Saviour who came to give up his life so that we would have eternal life. I would tell her about one who came not to give us everything we want, but to give us everything we need.
The society in which we live gives us a sense of entitlement to have everything we want, especially at Christmas. Then after the day has passed we feel let down. We suffer from the aftermath of Christmas. I see it all around me. After the busyness of the day a kind of apathy sets in. People who couldn't wait until the first week of December to put up the Christmas tree now hurry to take it down. The decorations are put away. Wrapping paper and bows are recycled in a cupboard waiting for next year's rush. The perfect gift so carefully chosen by Aunt Sally is returned so that you can get what you wanted in the first place. The last bite of turkey disguised in as many creative ways as possible has finally been consumed. The dieting has begun in earnest.
There should, of course, be a Christmas aftermath, but it should not be one of depression, apathy or inactivity. Aunt Bettye's sense of giving the best of who we are should be our agenda, not just for Christmas Day but for every day of our lives. That is strongly the message of Epiphany.
It is the message of the Old Testament reading from Isaiah. He gave the very best of who he was to God. He shared it with his people. He called the people of Israel to take heart. He knew that God comes like light in the midst of darkness and transforms the world. He shared that message with people who needed that kind of transformation. They badly needed to be transformed by God's love. What a gift he gave to people who had been exiled for so long from their homeland! What hope he gave to people who had returned to a country now poor and shabby, a pale shadow of its former greatness. Isaiah's words assured them that God had not abandoned them. New blessings would transform Israel. Isaiah saw his nation possessing such light that others could not help but be drawn to it. He offered them great wealth, not in material value, but in spiritual things.
Paul, too, gave the best of himself to God. The hidden wealth for Paul, the mystery at the heart of the birth, life, death and resurrection of Christ, was that the covenant with God that had been broken became the vehicle of salvation for all people. It transformed the whole faith. It broke down the barriers which had existed between God and humankind. It brought new light into a dark world. It brought joy as Paul communicated that inclusivity to those to whom he preached. He shared a wonderful message that we are all part of God's plan because God's grace is given for all of us to share.
We all know the story of the magi and their great gifts to the baby Jesus. The astrologers from Persia travelled long distances through adverse conditions to find a child foretold in the stars. They were seekers, these Magi, searching for something, for someone. You do not scan the sky night after night unless you are searching. They were hoping for something new and wonderful. They packed their luggage, saddled their camels and followed the star. It was not an easy journey. It was a struggle, the journey long and tedious. They slept by day. By night they scanned the skies. They had no exact directions; they simply followed a pinpoint of light in a dark sky. It was a journey fraught with difficulties. But they followed the star through the dark nights and they met Christ. God, the God of Israel was revealed to the world.
It is a story about gift giving. The magi brought rich gifts to Jesus. The gift of gold, fit for a King! The gift of incense, it's lovely fragrance rising in the air as our prayers arise to God. A rare gift brought from the far east. The gift of myrrh, another rare spice related to incence, used by the Egyptians in embalming, a reminder that this child will suffer and die.
But most of all, they bring themselves, for it is a beautiful story of seekers willing to leave everything behind to follow a dream. It is a story too of missed communication, for the Magi follow the signs but miss a turn in the road. They find themselves in the court of King Herod in Jerusalem. It makes perfect sense to them that the child would be born into a royal household, and Herod, though not of royal lineage is king. He is a king who rules through fear and intimidation. The time of King Herod is for the people of Israel a time of oppression, suffering, brutality and fear. When he hears about the birth of a young king he is filled with rage at the thought of his power being usurped. In his devious ways he convinces the Magi to return to him with news of where the child is born. But God intervenes. God speaks words of warning to them through a dream. They go home by another road, saving the child from the wrath of the king.
It is a story of deep transformation. The magi were transformed by their visit to the manger. How could they not be transformed? That kind of spiritual journey through life has a profound effect on our lives. That giving of self results in a profound change in our lives.
In what way has my life been transformed? Do I continue to walk in old paths, in old ways? Then what has Christmas accomplished? New life means new paths, new goals, new attitudes, new motivations. What paths are being opened up before me as I enter a new year? Am I a new person? How has my encounter with the Christ child affected my life, my way of living? What is God trying to accomplish in me at this very moment? What of my self am I willing to offer to God?
There is a legend that the Magi were three different ages. They went into the cave one at a time. They each met someone their own age. Melchior met an old man who spoke to him of memory and gratitude. Balthazar met a middle-aged teacher who talked of leadership and responsibility. Gaspar met a young prophet who spoke words of reform and promise. Afterward they entered the cave together and met a baby twelve days old.
The message of Christ speaks to us at every stage of our lives. Christ continues to be revealed to us as we grow in faith and maturity. To find Christ at any stage in our lives is to find ourselves. And when we enter together we find a deeper truth, that we are children of God. What a wonderful gift of God's grace! May we enter this New Year full of hope and joy, and ready to offer ourselves to God!
Readings: Isaiah 60:1-6; Psalm 72:1-14; Ephesians 3:1-12; Matthew 2:1-12
In his book, "Brother to a Dragonfly" Will Campbell, a civil rights activist, writer, and sometimes Baptist preacher tells a story about a bathrobe his Aunt Bettye received one Christmas. “And she wore the flannel bathrobe to church the very first Sunday after Christmas. Because it was the prettiest thing she had ever seen and the Lord deserved the best. And because it was 1933, and she didn't have a bathroom.”
How different from Christmas, 2009! At the top of children's wish lists to Santa this year were scampering hamsters called Zhu Zhus, a princess and a transforming robot. One parent got to the toy store intent upon purchasing a Zhu Zhu for her daughter only to find that they were sold out. She was almost in tears as she asked the clerk, “What am I going to tell my daughter on Christmas morning?”
If I were she I would begin by telling her the story of Aunt Bettye's flannel robe. And then I would go on to recount the story of Jesus. I would tell her about the Son of God, born in the smelly straw of a barn because there was no room for him in the inn. I would tell her about a family fleeing for their lives with their young child. I would tell her about a Saviour who came to give up his life so that we would have eternal life. I would tell her about one who came not to give us everything we want, but to give us everything we need.
The society in which we live gives us a sense of entitlement to have everything we want, especially at Christmas. Then after the day has passed we feel let down. We suffer from the aftermath of Christmas. I see it all around me. After the busyness of the day a kind of apathy sets in. People who couldn't wait until the first week of December to put up the Christmas tree now hurry to take it down. The decorations are put away. Wrapping paper and bows are recycled in a cupboard waiting for next year's rush. The perfect gift so carefully chosen by Aunt Sally is returned so that you can get what you wanted in the first place. The last bite of turkey disguised in as many creative ways as possible has finally been consumed. The dieting has begun in earnest.
There should, of course, be a Christmas aftermath, but it should not be one of depression, apathy or inactivity. Aunt Bettye's sense of giving the best of who we are should be our agenda, not just for Christmas Day but for every day of our lives. That is strongly the message of Epiphany.
It is the message of the Old Testament reading from Isaiah. He gave the very best of who he was to God. He shared it with his people. He called the people of Israel to take heart. He knew that God comes like light in the midst of darkness and transforms the world. He shared that message with people who needed that kind of transformation. They badly needed to be transformed by God's love. What a gift he gave to people who had been exiled for so long from their homeland! What hope he gave to people who had returned to a country now poor and shabby, a pale shadow of its former greatness. Isaiah's words assured them that God had not abandoned them. New blessings would transform Israel. Isaiah saw his nation possessing such light that others could not help but be drawn to it. He offered them great wealth, not in material value, but in spiritual things.
Paul, too, gave the best of himself to God. The hidden wealth for Paul, the mystery at the heart of the birth, life, death and resurrection of Christ, was that the covenant with God that had been broken became the vehicle of salvation for all people. It transformed the whole faith. It broke down the barriers which had existed between God and humankind. It brought new light into a dark world. It brought joy as Paul communicated that inclusivity to those to whom he preached. He shared a wonderful message that we are all part of God's plan because God's grace is given for all of us to share.
We all know the story of the magi and their great gifts to the baby Jesus. The astrologers from Persia travelled long distances through adverse conditions to find a child foretold in the stars. They were seekers, these Magi, searching for something, for someone. You do not scan the sky night after night unless you are searching. They were hoping for something new and wonderful. They packed their luggage, saddled their camels and followed the star. It was not an easy journey. It was a struggle, the journey long and tedious. They slept by day. By night they scanned the skies. They had no exact directions; they simply followed a pinpoint of light in a dark sky. It was a journey fraught with difficulties. But they followed the star through the dark nights and they met Christ. God, the God of Israel was revealed to the world.
It is a story about gift giving. The magi brought rich gifts to Jesus. The gift of gold, fit for a King! The gift of incense, it's lovely fragrance rising in the air as our prayers arise to God. A rare gift brought from the far east. The gift of myrrh, another rare spice related to incence, used by the Egyptians in embalming, a reminder that this child will suffer and die.
But most of all, they bring themselves, for it is a beautiful story of seekers willing to leave everything behind to follow a dream. It is a story too of missed communication, for the Magi follow the signs but miss a turn in the road. They find themselves in the court of King Herod in Jerusalem. It makes perfect sense to them that the child would be born into a royal household, and Herod, though not of royal lineage is king. He is a king who rules through fear and intimidation. The time of King Herod is for the people of Israel a time of oppression, suffering, brutality and fear. When he hears about the birth of a young king he is filled with rage at the thought of his power being usurped. In his devious ways he convinces the Magi to return to him with news of where the child is born. But God intervenes. God speaks words of warning to them through a dream. They go home by another road, saving the child from the wrath of the king.
It is a story of deep transformation. The magi were transformed by their visit to the manger. How could they not be transformed? That kind of spiritual journey through life has a profound effect on our lives. That giving of self results in a profound change in our lives.
In what way has my life been transformed? Do I continue to walk in old paths, in old ways? Then what has Christmas accomplished? New life means new paths, new goals, new attitudes, new motivations. What paths are being opened up before me as I enter a new year? Am I a new person? How has my encounter with the Christ child affected my life, my way of living? What is God trying to accomplish in me at this very moment? What of my self am I willing to offer to God?
There is a legend that the Magi were three different ages. They went into the cave one at a time. They each met someone their own age. Melchior met an old man who spoke to him of memory and gratitude. Balthazar met a middle-aged teacher who talked of leadership and responsibility. Gaspar met a young prophet who spoke words of reform and promise. Afterward they entered the cave together and met a baby twelve days old.
The message of Christ speaks to us at every stage of our lives. Christ continues to be revealed to us as we grow in faith and maturity. To find Christ at any stage in our lives is to find ourselves. And when we enter together we find a deeper truth, that we are children of God. What a wonderful gift of God's grace! May we enter this New Year full of hope and joy, and ready to offer ourselves to God!
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Christmas Year C
Is Christmas Here?
Readings: Isaiah 9:2-7; Psalm 96; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-20
I love the traditions of Christmas. I look back on Christmases past and recapture a wonderful sense of joy. One of my favourite times was helping my mother bake. She made the best mince meat tarts. She would let me put the tops on each one, reminding me that it represented the swaddling clothes for baby Jesus. Even Santa Claus was part of the mystery. Santa always came during the night and put our stocking at the bottom of our bed. As long as we made not a sound, we could open it as soon as we awakened. I would reach in and pull out each item in the darkness of the early morning, unwrap them and savour them. There would be the usual socks and underwear, some little toys to play with, a lovely candy cane, and always tucked into the toe a beautiful big orange. When we children could contain ourselves no longer we would make enough noise that our parents would give in and let us go down stairs to see what Santa had left under the tree. We were allowed to open one gift before church, the one that Santa brought. And that gift would be taken to church for a blessing. I loved the service on Christmas Day. The children would all gather at the creche. We would recount the story and kneel reverently as we sang “Away in a Manger”.
Christmas is like that for us. It is warm and wonderful family memories. It is images of sugar plums and dancing angels. It is the smell of pine. It is turkey and stuffing and Christmas pudding. It warms our hearts. It gives us hope. It brings with it a sense of peace. It brings us back to childhood, year after year after year.
Even when we grow up and replace family traditions with our own, Christmas remains a special time of giving and receiving. I take joy in decorating my Christmas tree, pulling out each decoration and remembering where or from whom it came. I enjoy entertaining family and friends. It is a magical time when there is peace in the world and joy in my heart. But I know that there is so much more to Christmas than any of these traditions. And sometimes the joy is bittersweet. There is so much more to bring joy into our hearts, for the real gift is Christmas itself.
Of all the traditions of Christmas, most of all I love the Christmas story from Luke's Gospel. It is a timeless story. We see it portrayed on Christmas cards. We hear it. We read it. Truly, it does not matter how many times I read it. It does not matter how many times I watch the children telling the story in the pageant. It remains a warm and comforting story. And so I remind you of the story tonight.
A decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all should go back to their hometown for the census. And when a decree went out from the powerful ruler of Rome it was acted upon. Caesar Augustus, the self-proclaimed son of God, the bringer of peace, the saviour used his claim to greatness to exploit the people under his rule.
Joseph and his wife Mary, nine months pregnant obeyed the decree. They set out on a five-day journey from Nazareth where they were living to go to their hometown of Bethlehem. The Bethlehem of Jesus’ day was of little consequence, a back road place close to the big city of Jerusalem, which was the usual destination for travellers. Consequently there were few inns to be found. Most people who travelled to Bethlehem were visiting family or friends. But in its past Bethlehem had birthed some well-known people, amongst them Rachael, wife of the patriarch Jacob, Ruth the Moabite woman, and most important, King David, the shepherd king of Israel. Bethlehem, “House of Bread”, became known as the city of David. Because it was the ancestral hometown of the line of David, a huge influx of travellers, all claiming royal lineage flocked to the town. The few small inns filled up very quickly.
This was no Holiday Inn that we are talking about. The inns were very simple dwellings with several small rooms opening into a courtyard. The wealthy would have a room and would eat their meals in the inn. Many who were unable to afford a room would simply camp out in the courtyard with the animals. They would build a fire in the courtyard to cook their meals. By the time Mary and Joseph arrived in Bethlehem there was no room anywhere. So when Mary gave birth to Jesus she laid him in a manger, a feeding trough for the animals.
Our God is a God of surprises. The true Son of God, the bringer of peace, the real Saviour, is a baby whose family cannot find accommodation. The child is born in poverty, without a proper roof over his head.
And the surprise does not stop there. For on a hillside outside of Bethlehem a very different decree is taking place. Some shepherds are watching their flocks that night when heavenly messengers come to them with great news. “To you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour who is the Messiah, the Lord.” Had they been scholars they might have known that the prophet Micah had foretold it. But the angels did not go to the religious leaders of Israel with the good news. They went to the shepherds, outcasts of society. And the shepherds got the message. They not only got it. They acted on it. They hurried to Bethlehem, praising God all the way there. Then they went out and told the good news to everyone who would listen.
It is Good News! Our God says, “Ready or not! I'm here!” Today God comes into the midst of us, born as the child Jesus, giving us the gift of the divine presence. Tonight more than any other night we are confronted with the wisdom of the observation, “The past is history, the future is mystery, today is gift, which is why we call it present.”
Christmas has come to us. We are gathered here in this lovely church, decorated with poinsettias, a Christmas tree, lights, candles, the creche. Our voices ring out with joyous carols.
Christmas has come to us. There is no doubt about that. But what about other places in the world? Has Christmas come everywhere? Is this silent night holy for political refugees in in Northern Pakistan where people are returning to villages that have been damaged or destroyed in the war between the Taliban and the Pakistani army? Or for the hundreds of thousands of refugees who have poured out of Somalia into Kenya to flee violence and drought, only to face severe shortages of food in that country? Or for child soldiers in Uganda taken away from their homes and forced to fight for their very lives? Has Christmas come for them?
Is it Christmas for those who are dying of AIDS? Are they bathed in the glow of candle light? Has Christmas come for the children in Africa who must care for an ill or dying parent rather than going to school or having a normal childhood? Has Christmas come for them?
Is it Christmas for the starving around our globe? Has Christmas come for the farmers in India whose crops are failing as drought worsens? Has it come for them as they fall deeper into debt to unscrupulous bankers who prey on their need to feed their children? Has Christmas come for them?
Is it Christmas for those who are unemployed during this recession? Is it Christmas for the homeless on the streets of Toronto? Has Christmas come for the man who, when his house was repossessed last month moved his possessions into his truck, but then was forced to abandon it after having it towed away? Is it Christmas for the family evicted from their home? Is it Christmas for the addicted or the mentally ill who cannot keep a roof over their heads? Has Christmas come for them?
Most certainly it has come for all of us, for Christmas comes whether we are ready or not, because Christmas is about God's love. God's love doesn't come only when everything is perfect. It breaks in on us despite all the struggles of life. It breaks in on us through the distractions. It comes stealing in, quietly, silently. It comes and Christ is born.
There is an old story that comes to us from Persia. Long ago, there ruled in Persia a wise and good king. He loved his people. He wanted to know how they lived. He wanted to know about their hardships. Often he dressed in the clothes of a working man or a beggar, and went to the homes of the poor. No one whom he visited thought that he was their ruler. One time he visited a very poor man who lived in a cellar. He ate the coarse food the poor man ate. He spoke cheerful, kind words to him. Then he left. Later he visited the poor man again and disclosed his identity by saying, "I am your king!"
The king thought the man would surely ask for some gift or favor, but he didn't. Instead he said, "You left your palace and your glory to visit me in this dark, dreary place. You ate the course food I ate. You brought gladness to my heart! To others you have given your rich gifts. To me you have given yourself!"
The King of glory, the Lord Jesus Christ, gave himself to you and me. Amid the mistletoe and angel hair and carols and wrapping paper and presents, amid the gatherings and celebrations, amid the feasting, let us remember that the most precious gift we receive this day is the gift of a child who closes the gap between the Creator and the created. May Christ truly be born in us this day!
Readings: Isaiah 9:2-7; Psalm 96; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-20
I love the traditions of Christmas. I look back on Christmases past and recapture a wonderful sense of joy. One of my favourite times was helping my mother bake. She made the best mince meat tarts. She would let me put the tops on each one, reminding me that it represented the swaddling clothes for baby Jesus. Even Santa Claus was part of the mystery. Santa always came during the night and put our stocking at the bottom of our bed. As long as we made not a sound, we could open it as soon as we awakened. I would reach in and pull out each item in the darkness of the early morning, unwrap them and savour them. There would be the usual socks and underwear, some little toys to play with, a lovely candy cane, and always tucked into the toe a beautiful big orange. When we children could contain ourselves no longer we would make enough noise that our parents would give in and let us go down stairs to see what Santa had left under the tree. We were allowed to open one gift before church, the one that Santa brought. And that gift would be taken to church for a blessing. I loved the service on Christmas Day. The children would all gather at the creche. We would recount the story and kneel reverently as we sang “Away in a Manger”.
Christmas is like that for us. It is warm and wonderful family memories. It is images of sugar plums and dancing angels. It is the smell of pine. It is turkey and stuffing and Christmas pudding. It warms our hearts. It gives us hope. It brings with it a sense of peace. It brings us back to childhood, year after year after year.
Even when we grow up and replace family traditions with our own, Christmas remains a special time of giving and receiving. I take joy in decorating my Christmas tree, pulling out each decoration and remembering where or from whom it came. I enjoy entertaining family and friends. It is a magical time when there is peace in the world and joy in my heart. But I know that there is so much more to Christmas than any of these traditions. And sometimes the joy is bittersweet. There is so much more to bring joy into our hearts, for the real gift is Christmas itself.
Of all the traditions of Christmas, most of all I love the Christmas story from Luke's Gospel. It is a timeless story. We see it portrayed on Christmas cards. We hear it. We read it. Truly, it does not matter how many times I read it. It does not matter how many times I watch the children telling the story in the pageant. It remains a warm and comforting story. And so I remind you of the story tonight.
A decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all should go back to their hometown for the census. And when a decree went out from the powerful ruler of Rome it was acted upon. Caesar Augustus, the self-proclaimed son of God, the bringer of peace, the saviour used his claim to greatness to exploit the people under his rule.
Joseph and his wife Mary, nine months pregnant obeyed the decree. They set out on a five-day journey from Nazareth where they were living to go to their hometown of Bethlehem. The Bethlehem of Jesus’ day was of little consequence, a back road place close to the big city of Jerusalem, which was the usual destination for travellers. Consequently there were few inns to be found. Most people who travelled to Bethlehem were visiting family or friends. But in its past Bethlehem had birthed some well-known people, amongst them Rachael, wife of the patriarch Jacob, Ruth the Moabite woman, and most important, King David, the shepherd king of Israel. Bethlehem, “House of Bread”, became known as the city of David. Because it was the ancestral hometown of the line of David, a huge influx of travellers, all claiming royal lineage flocked to the town. The few small inns filled up very quickly.
This was no Holiday Inn that we are talking about. The inns were very simple dwellings with several small rooms opening into a courtyard. The wealthy would have a room and would eat their meals in the inn. Many who were unable to afford a room would simply camp out in the courtyard with the animals. They would build a fire in the courtyard to cook their meals. By the time Mary and Joseph arrived in Bethlehem there was no room anywhere. So when Mary gave birth to Jesus she laid him in a manger, a feeding trough for the animals.
Our God is a God of surprises. The true Son of God, the bringer of peace, the real Saviour, is a baby whose family cannot find accommodation. The child is born in poverty, without a proper roof over his head.
And the surprise does not stop there. For on a hillside outside of Bethlehem a very different decree is taking place. Some shepherds are watching their flocks that night when heavenly messengers come to them with great news. “To you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour who is the Messiah, the Lord.” Had they been scholars they might have known that the prophet Micah had foretold it. But the angels did not go to the religious leaders of Israel with the good news. They went to the shepherds, outcasts of society. And the shepherds got the message. They not only got it. They acted on it. They hurried to Bethlehem, praising God all the way there. Then they went out and told the good news to everyone who would listen.
It is Good News! Our God says, “Ready or not! I'm here!” Today God comes into the midst of us, born as the child Jesus, giving us the gift of the divine presence. Tonight more than any other night we are confronted with the wisdom of the observation, “The past is history, the future is mystery, today is gift, which is why we call it present.”
Christmas has come to us. We are gathered here in this lovely church, decorated with poinsettias, a Christmas tree, lights, candles, the creche. Our voices ring out with joyous carols.
Christmas has come to us. There is no doubt about that. But what about other places in the world? Has Christmas come everywhere? Is this silent night holy for political refugees in in Northern Pakistan where people are returning to villages that have been damaged or destroyed in the war between the Taliban and the Pakistani army? Or for the hundreds of thousands of refugees who have poured out of Somalia into Kenya to flee violence and drought, only to face severe shortages of food in that country? Or for child soldiers in Uganda taken away from their homes and forced to fight for their very lives? Has Christmas come for them?
Is it Christmas for those who are dying of AIDS? Are they bathed in the glow of candle light? Has Christmas come for the children in Africa who must care for an ill or dying parent rather than going to school or having a normal childhood? Has Christmas come for them?
Is it Christmas for the starving around our globe? Has Christmas come for the farmers in India whose crops are failing as drought worsens? Has it come for them as they fall deeper into debt to unscrupulous bankers who prey on their need to feed their children? Has Christmas come for them?
Is it Christmas for those who are unemployed during this recession? Is it Christmas for the homeless on the streets of Toronto? Has Christmas come for the man who, when his house was repossessed last month moved his possessions into his truck, but then was forced to abandon it after having it towed away? Is it Christmas for the family evicted from their home? Is it Christmas for the addicted or the mentally ill who cannot keep a roof over their heads? Has Christmas come for them?
Most certainly it has come for all of us, for Christmas comes whether we are ready or not, because Christmas is about God's love. God's love doesn't come only when everything is perfect. It breaks in on us despite all the struggles of life. It breaks in on us through the distractions. It comes stealing in, quietly, silently. It comes and Christ is born.
There is an old story that comes to us from Persia. Long ago, there ruled in Persia a wise and good king. He loved his people. He wanted to know how they lived. He wanted to know about their hardships. Often he dressed in the clothes of a working man or a beggar, and went to the homes of the poor. No one whom he visited thought that he was their ruler. One time he visited a very poor man who lived in a cellar. He ate the coarse food the poor man ate. He spoke cheerful, kind words to him. Then he left. Later he visited the poor man again and disclosed his identity by saying, "I am your king!"
The king thought the man would surely ask for some gift or favor, but he didn't. Instead he said, "You left your palace and your glory to visit me in this dark, dreary place. You ate the course food I ate. You brought gladness to my heart! To others you have given your rich gifts. To me you have given yourself!"
The King of glory, the Lord Jesus Christ, gave himself to you and me. Amid the mistletoe and angel hair and carols and wrapping paper and presents, amid the gatherings and celebrations, amid the feasting, let us remember that the most precious gift we receive this day is the gift of a child who closes the gap between the Creator and the created. May Christ truly be born in us this day!
Friday, December 18, 2009
The Fourth Sunday of Advent, Year C
Better Than Angels!
Readings: Micah 5:2-5a; The Magnificat; Hebrews 10:5-10; Luke 1:39-45
At this time of year angels come to the forefront. They are part of the folklore of Christmas. They adorn our Christmas trees. We see them on cards and wrapping paper. They are an important part of every Christmas pageant. They are part and parcel of the Christmas story.
There are many references to angels in Scripture. The Old Testament belief about angels was that they were messengers sent from God to speak or do wonders in God's name. Angels were usually seen as intermediaries who preserved God from too intimate a contact with earthly creatures. In the New Testament they continued to communicate with humankind, bringing messages of comfort and hope from God. They were part of the heavenly retinue, as we see in the nativity story as the angel hosts appear to the shepherds.
In modern folklore angels are part of the phenomenon of the unexpected and unexplained that is so common in current television series and movies. They are viewed as miracle workers, magical in their powers, helping to unleash our creative powers. There is a worldview that our destiny is to become angels.
In Christian circles, they are still seen as messengers. In an anecdote in Chicken Soup for the Soul it says that “Angels never say “Hello!” They come knocking at the door of our hearts, trying to deliver a message to us.” That is certainly the sense that I have of angels. Most of the decorations on my Christmas tree are angels. I find it to be a comforting symbol of how God communicates to us. Even though I have no physical proof of angelic beings, I have certainly been aware on more than one occasion of an aura of holiness that comforted me in a way that I have put down to angelic.
The Gospel for today tells of how God sends an angel to speak to a young peasant woman named Mary. God chooses Mary to become the 'God Bearer'. The angel delivers the message to Mary that she has been chosen. She willingly accepts the unexpected demand of God, but her encounter with the angel leaves her confused. She knows what lies ahead for her in the community. No angelic message can help her deal with her confusion or fear. She turns to her cousin, Elizabeth. She knows too that Elizabeth will understand. She needs to share not only her fears and struggles, but also her joy, her good news. She knows that her cousin Elizabeth, also pregnant, will understand.
Elizabeth, "Consecrated to God"! That is the meaning of her name. However, Elizabeth, "The cursed one" is how she is no doubt known in the village in which she lives. Women who could not have children are scorned. They are considered cursed by God. For years she has been pleading with God asking what she has done to deserve God's wrath. God hears her plea. And now, the aged one, the one all the women in the village felt sorry for, is going to have a baby. She can hardly believe it. She had given up all hope of ever becoming a mother.
Elizabeth was in her sixth month when Mary arrived from Nazareth. She had not been expecting the visit because it was about four days journey from Nazareth where Mary lived to Elizabeth's home in Hebron. But she knew instinctively before Mary had a chance to say anything that something even more wonderful than her miracle had happened in Mary’s life. Her response to Mary was better than any angelic message could possibly have been. It is instinctive. It came from the heart. God has blessed her; because of her yearning she understands Mary's situation.
In her joy she says, “And why has this happened to me?” There is a very different sense to those words as Elizabeth speaks them. Usually they are spoken out of the tragedies of our lives, yet Elizabeth is responding with a real sense of joy and love. She understands that Mary is truly blessed to be the God Bearer. She also understands that Mary is blessed to have listened to the voice of the angel and responded to God's amazing call. She affirms Mary's call to be the God bearer.
The Elizabeth's of our lives are real blessings. They are quiet people who often remain unnoticed. Yet when God wants them to do something important they do not hesitate. They humbly trust God who is able to take our barrenness and turn it into a wonderful gift, a real blessing. They trust that God's word will be fulfilled. They know themselves well enough; they are secure enough in themselves, to enable others to share their own gifts and talents. They don't have to be in the limelight.
The Elizabeth's of our world give wholehearted encouragement to bring about God's purposes. They prepare the way for the Saviour to be born in us. They are models of good ministry. You see, ministry is not about something that you have hired a priest to do on your behalf. It is something to which each of us is called in our own way. The best ministry is done by people like Elizabeth who open up their hearts to those in need. They are the listening ears of the church who always know who is hurting. They are the wounded healers of the community who reach out to the abused, to the neglected, to the needy. They bring healing wherever they go.
The Elizabeth's of our world teach us about real ministry. They quietly and effectively go about doing what God has called them to do. They know that God can take our barrenness and turn it into a wonderful gift.
Keep yourself in God's hands. Be prepared for whatever miraculous way God's message comes to you. Open yourself to hearing God's call. God may be preparing your life for greater purposes than you can see right now. Let Christ be born in you again and again and again. Amen.
Readings: Micah 5:2-5a; The Magnificat; Hebrews 10:5-10; Luke 1:39-45
At this time of year angels come to the forefront. They are part of the folklore of Christmas. They adorn our Christmas trees. We see them on cards and wrapping paper. They are an important part of every Christmas pageant. They are part and parcel of the Christmas story.
There are many references to angels in Scripture. The Old Testament belief about angels was that they were messengers sent from God to speak or do wonders in God's name. Angels were usually seen as intermediaries who preserved God from too intimate a contact with earthly creatures. In the New Testament they continued to communicate with humankind, bringing messages of comfort and hope from God. They were part of the heavenly retinue, as we see in the nativity story as the angel hosts appear to the shepherds.
In modern folklore angels are part of the phenomenon of the unexpected and unexplained that is so common in current television series and movies. They are viewed as miracle workers, magical in their powers, helping to unleash our creative powers. There is a worldview that our destiny is to become angels.
In Christian circles, they are still seen as messengers. In an anecdote in Chicken Soup for the Soul it says that “Angels never say “Hello!” They come knocking at the door of our hearts, trying to deliver a message to us.” That is certainly the sense that I have of angels. Most of the decorations on my Christmas tree are angels. I find it to be a comforting symbol of how God communicates to us. Even though I have no physical proof of angelic beings, I have certainly been aware on more than one occasion of an aura of holiness that comforted me in a way that I have put down to angelic.
The Gospel for today tells of how God sends an angel to speak to a young peasant woman named Mary. God chooses Mary to become the 'God Bearer'. The angel delivers the message to Mary that she has been chosen. She willingly accepts the unexpected demand of God, but her encounter with the angel leaves her confused. She knows what lies ahead for her in the community. No angelic message can help her deal with her confusion or fear. She turns to her cousin, Elizabeth. She knows too that Elizabeth will understand. She needs to share not only her fears and struggles, but also her joy, her good news. She knows that her cousin Elizabeth, also pregnant, will understand.
Elizabeth, "Consecrated to God"! That is the meaning of her name. However, Elizabeth, "The cursed one" is how she is no doubt known in the village in which she lives. Women who could not have children are scorned. They are considered cursed by God. For years she has been pleading with God asking what she has done to deserve God's wrath. God hears her plea. And now, the aged one, the one all the women in the village felt sorry for, is going to have a baby. She can hardly believe it. She had given up all hope of ever becoming a mother.
Elizabeth was in her sixth month when Mary arrived from Nazareth. She had not been expecting the visit because it was about four days journey from Nazareth where Mary lived to Elizabeth's home in Hebron. But she knew instinctively before Mary had a chance to say anything that something even more wonderful than her miracle had happened in Mary’s life. Her response to Mary was better than any angelic message could possibly have been. It is instinctive. It came from the heart. God has blessed her; because of her yearning she understands Mary's situation.
In her joy she says, “And why has this happened to me?” There is a very different sense to those words as Elizabeth speaks them. Usually they are spoken out of the tragedies of our lives, yet Elizabeth is responding with a real sense of joy and love. She understands that Mary is truly blessed to be the God Bearer. She also understands that Mary is blessed to have listened to the voice of the angel and responded to God's amazing call. She affirms Mary's call to be the God bearer.
The Elizabeth's of our lives are real blessings. They are quiet people who often remain unnoticed. Yet when God wants them to do something important they do not hesitate. They humbly trust God who is able to take our barrenness and turn it into a wonderful gift, a real blessing. They trust that God's word will be fulfilled. They know themselves well enough; they are secure enough in themselves, to enable others to share their own gifts and talents. They don't have to be in the limelight.
The Elizabeth's of our world give wholehearted encouragement to bring about God's purposes. They prepare the way for the Saviour to be born in us. They are models of good ministry. You see, ministry is not about something that you have hired a priest to do on your behalf. It is something to which each of us is called in our own way. The best ministry is done by people like Elizabeth who open up their hearts to those in need. They are the listening ears of the church who always know who is hurting. They are the wounded healers of the community who reach out to the abused, to the neglected, to the needy. They bring healing wherever they go.
The Elizabeth's of our world teach us about real ministry. They quietly and effectively go about doing what God has called them to do. They know that God can take our barrenness and turn it into a wonderful gift.
Keep yourself in God's hands. Be prepared for whatever miraculous way God's message comes to you. Open yourself to hearing God's call. God may be preparing your life for greater purposes than you can see right now. Let Christ be born in you again and again and again. Amen.
Friday, December 11, 2009
The Third Sunday of Advent, Year C
Rejoice!
Readings: Zephaniah 3:14-20; Canticle 3; Philippians 4:4-7; Luke 3:7-18
When I was a child my grandmother gave me some of her old books. They were about a little girl named Elsie Dinsmore who was awfully good. I am certain that grandmother gave me the books because she wanted me to be more like Elsie. They had, I am certain, the opposite effect. For Elsie was just too perfect to be believed. She spent her life overcoming terrible tragedies. She always did what was good and right, and as I remember the stories now, it was often at the expense of others. She was quite insufferable, especially since through it all, she never stopped smiling.
Reading over Paul's letter to the Philippians reminded me, just for a moment, of Elsie Dinsmore. There he is in the midst of chaos, singing to these people, "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say rejoice."
Now you may think that it is easy for someone like Paul to talk that way. After all, he doesn't have to worry about mortgage payments. The crime rate in Philippi is not climbing at an alarming rate. The world is not heading into ecological and economic disaster. He is not about to be attacked by terrorists.
Except for one thing! This joyful hymn is coming from Paul, a person who has experienced great personal tragedy. He has been beaten, persecuted, and thrown in jail for his faith. And yet he is able to call on his inner resources, on his relationship with God, on his faith, not simply to get him through it all, but to enable him to rejoice.
And then there are the Philippians. This community to whom he is preaching is a community under fire. First of all, they are under fire from within. They are bickering amongst themselves about who the leaders of the congregation should be. They also face opposition from other Christian communities who oppose the inclusivity of Paul’s message. The Christians in Jerusalem want these new converts from Philippi, a flourishing Greek community, to assume the traditions of the Jewish roots of Christianity. The Jewish faith means absolutely nothing to them. Finally they are threatened by danger from a hostile environment. Simply by becoming Christians they have opened themselves up to persecution. They live in the Roman Empire where it does not pay to convert.
Paul’s appeal to joy is not simply encouragement. He is calling the people back to God. He knows that faith is their greatest resource. They trust in a God who walks with them. They have experienced the great love of God. God is a part of their daily lives.
The prophet Zephaniah also sings to us across time and place about living joyfully. His fiery message reflects the turbulence of his time, a time of social injustice, a time of secularism. The leaders of Israel have exploited the people shamelessly. They in response have turned away from God. They feel the sting of God’s judgement. They feel abandoned. “Sing aloud, O daughter Zion,” he proclaims with passion. “Rejoice and exult with all your heart. The Lord has taken away the judgements against you.” They are words of transformative hope. His passionate song rings out to the people reminding them of their close relationship to God. Their hope lies in God, who offers empowerment. God continues to call them back into covenant, time and time again. They are God’s people; God continues to walk with them.
John the Baptist also sings out a message of great hope to the converts who have followed him out into the Judean wilderness to be baptised.
“You brood of vipers! Who warned you of the wrath to come?” Not exactly words designed to please the people to whom he was preaching! John is preaching a challenging message. He is preaching against Imperial Rome with its worldview based on ammassing power and material wealth for itself. He is preaching against the religious institutions with their elaborate systems run by powerful priests. The way he lives his whole life speaks out against corrupt power. He baptises in the River Jordan, not in a beautiful Temple with its gilt and opulence. He is preaching out in the wilderness. He is calling people to repentance. He calls them to prepare for what they have been waiting for all these years. He calls them to transform their lives as they await the coming Messiah.
And they respond to the song. “What should we do?” they ask him.
“Share what you have with the poor, “ he tells them. “Be honest in your work. Be satisfied with your wages. Don’t be chaff or you’ll burn in Hell.” John is not one to mince words. These are not the lyrical reminders of Zephaniah. His words are judgemental and harsh. But they sing just the same. Those who are fit for the Lord are those who go beyond lip service and actually produce the fruits of repentance. “You have to make changes in your lives,” John tells them. “You need to be transformed.” Difficult as they may be, these are not earth shattering revelations. For the world to become a better place these people need to act. They need to conduct their affairs with integrity and compassion. Not that it will eradicate all the pain and injustice that exist in the world, but it will be a starting point. It will begin to put things right. His words fill the people with hope, expectation and joy.
What song of joy do we sing as we prepare for the birth of Christ? “How can we sing?” I can hear you saying. Look at the hopeless situations in the world around us! War in Afghanistan, terrorism, violence on our once peaceful streets, failing economies, changing ecology, secularism ... We live complicated lives. How can we possibly rejoice in the terrible society in which we live? How can these passages speak to us of joy when all we can see is turmoil and trouble?
It has been said that Advent is a time for joy, not primarily because we are anticipating the anniversary of the birth of Jesus, but because God is already in our midst. That is something to sing about. Let us prepare for the birth of Christ by allowing God to transform our sorrow into joy, the chaos and turmoil of our world into peace. Experience assures me that if we do, then the world will change for us. It will be bathed in light. It will be beautiful. Hope will be renewed. Like Elsie, we will begin to see the world not for what it is, but for what it will become when God ushers in the Kingdom.
Readings: Zephaniah 3:14-20; Canticle 3; Philippians 4:4-7; Luke 3:7-18
When I was a child my grandmother gave me some of her old books. They were about a little girl named Elsie Dinsmore who was awfully good. I am certain that grandmother gave me the books because she wanted me to be more like Elsie. They had, I am certain, the opposite effect. For Elsie was just too perfect to be believed. She spent her life overcoming terrible tragedies. She always did what was good and right, and as I remember the stories now, it was often at the expense of others. She was quite insufferable, especially since through it all, she never stopped smiling.
Reading over Paul's letter to the Philippians reminded me, just for a moment, of Elsie Dinsmore. There he is in the midst of chaos, singing to these people, "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say rejoice."
Now you may think that it is easy for someone like Paul to talk that way. After all, he doesn't have to worry about mortgage payments. The crime rate in Philippi is not climbing at an alarming rate. The world is not heading into ecological and economic disaster. He is not about to be attacked by terrorists.
Except for one thing! This joyful hymn is coming from Paul, a person who has experienced great personal tragedy. He has been beaten, persecuted, and thrown in jail for his faith. And yet he is able to call on his inner resources, on his relationship with God, on his faith, not simply to get him through it all, but to enable him to rejoice.
And then there are the Philippians. This community to whom he is preaching is a community under fire. First of all, they are under fire from within. They are bickering amongst themselves about who the leaders of the congregation should be. They also face opposition from other Christian communities who oppose the inclusivity of Paul’s message. The Christians in Jerusalem want these new converts from Philippi, a flourishing Greek community, to assume the traditions of the Jewish roots of Christianity. The Jewish faith means absolutely nothing to them. Finally they are threatened by danger from a hostile environment. Simply by becoming Christians they have opened themselves up to persecution. They live in the Roman Empire where it does not pay to convert.
Paul’s appeal to joy is not simply encouragement. He is calling the people back to God. He knows that faith is their greatest resource. They trust in a God who walks with them. They have experienced the great love of God. God is a part of their daily lives.
The prophet Zephaniah also sings to us across time and place about living joyfully. His fiery message reflects the turbulence of his time, a time of social injustice, a time of secularism. The leaders of Israel have exploited the people shamelessly. They in response have turned away from God. They feel the sting of God’s judgement. They feel abandoned. “Sing aloud, O daughter Zion,” he proclaims with passion. “Rejoice and exult with all your heart. The Lord has taken away the judgements against you.” They are words of transformative hope. His passionate song rings out to the people reminding them of their close relationship to God. Their hope lies in God, who offers empowerment. God continues to call them back into covenant, time and time again. They are God’s people; God continues to walk with them.
John the Baptist also sings out a message of great hope to the converts who have followed him out into the Judean wilderness to be baptised.
“You brood of vipers! Who warned you of the wrath to come?” Not exactly words designed to please the people to whom he was preaching! John is preaching a challenging message. He is preaching against Imperial Rome with its worldview based on ammassing power and material wealth for itself. He is preaching against the religious institutions with their elaborate systems run by powerful priests. The way he lives his whole life speaks out against corrupt power. He baptises in the River Jordan, not in a beautiful Temple with its gilt and opulence. He is preaching out in the wilderness. He is calling people to repentance. He calls them to prepare for what they have been waiting for all these years. He calls them to transform their lives as they await the coming Messiah.
And they respond to the song. “What should we do?” they ask him.
“Share what you have with the poor, “ he tells them. “Be honest in your work. Be satisfied with your wages. Don’t be chaff or you’ll burn in Hell.” John is not one to mince words. These are not the lyrical reminders of Zephaniah. His words are judgemental and harsh. But they sing just the same. Those who are fit for the Lord are those who go beyond lip service and actually produce the fruits of repentance. “You have to make changes in your lives,” John tells them. “You need to be transformed.” Difficult as they may be, these are not earth shattering revelations. For the world to become a better place these people need to act. They need to conduct their affairs with integrity and compassion. Not that it will eradicate all the pain and injustice that exist in the world, but it will be a starting point. It will begin to put things right. His words fill the people with hope, expectation and joy.
What song of joy do we sing as we prepare for the birth of Christ? “How can we sing?” I can hear you saying. Look at the hopeless situations in the world around us! War in Afghanistan, terrorism, violence on our once peaceful streets, failing economies, changing ecology, secularism ... We live complicated lives. How can we possibly rejoice in the terrible society in which we live? How can these passages speak to us of joy when all we can see is turmoil and trouble?
It has been said that Advent is a time for joy, not primarily because we are anticipating the anniversary of the birth of Jesus, but because God is already in our midst. That is something to sing about. Let us prepare for the birth of Christ by allowing God to transform our sorrow into joy, the chaos and turmoil of our world into peace. Experience assures me that if we do, then the world will change for us. It will be bathed in light. It will be beautiful. Hope will be renewed. Like Elsie, we will begin to see the world not for what it is, but for what it will become when God ushers in the Kingdom.
Friday, December 4, 2009
The Second Sunday of Advent, Year C
Wilderness Thoughts!
Readings: Baruch 5:1-9; Psalm 126; Philippians 1:3-11; Luke 3:1-6
For the most part, the Old Testament stories which we read Sunday by Sunday, recount the conflicts and struggles of the people of Israel. Once in a while, they offer bright flashes of divine light which speak to us in a much deeper way. Such passages bring us to a realization of what is to come. They speak to us through time. They reveal, not an exact account of future events, but an unfolding of God's plan for the world. It is such passages which prepare us for the good news of the gospel.
Such passages were often the inspiration for Luke. In the events of the life of Christ, he saw the events of the Old Testament coming to pass. He recognized the coming of the kingdom. God would visit the planet. God would be revealed through the coming of Christ. He saw the need for people to be prepared for that coming.
The picture which we get of John the Baptist from Scripture is as the last of the Old Testament prophets. John lived in solitude in the wilderness. There he had companionship with eternal things. There he watched stars blaze in the darkness. There he meditated and prayed. There he listened to the voice of God. And there he spoke words of truth. Difficult words that cut to the heart of the matter. For his message was a call to repentance and forgiveness. The baptism of John conveyed, not what God was saying, but what God was beginning to do.
To hear such a message required commitment. It required risk. It required travelling into the unknown. If you wanted to hear John preach you did not go to the synagogue. He was not to be found there. You had to go to where he was. You had to go far out into the Judean wilderness. You had to be prepared to find God in the least expected places. And isn't that how it often seems to happen? Isn't it through our wilderness experiences that we are enabled to hear God more directly?
I had a friend whom I used to visit who lived in the L'arche community, “Daybreak” in Richmond Hill. L'arche was begun by Jean Vanier to assist those who are developmentally handicapped. It brings together people of all abilities to help each other. My friend Tom was a very simple soul. He lived in the community for over ten years. It allowed him to live independently in a way that none of us ever thought possible. He helped to prepare meals and to do the cleaning. More importantly, he was part of a family.
In the same house with Tom, lived Henri Nouwen. You may have heard of him for he was a well known author. A Roman Catholic priest, an academic, who taught theology both at Yale and at Harvard, he was perhaps an unlikely one to be found in the community. In his book, "Journey to Daybreak", he recounts the story of his search and how it lead him to take up his life there.
He was at a point of transition in his life. He had no idea what he should be doing. Then one day there was a knock at the door. He answered it. It was a young woman.
"Hi, I'm Jan," she said. "I bring you greetings from Jean Vanier."
Immediately his mind went into gear. Did Jean Vanier want him to speak a conference? Or direct a retreat? "That's nice, he said. "What can I do for you?"
"Nothing!" she replied. "I just came to bring you greetings from Jean Vanier." No matter how much she insisted that her purpose, her only purpose, was to bring greetings, the more Henri thought she must be there to ask him to do something. Finally the message sank in. She was bringing him greetings, nothing more.
Some time later, Jean Vanier phoned. "Spend a quiet day with me in prayer," he said. The mind went into gear again. He must want something. But he insisted that his only purpose was to pray with him. His friendship with Jean Vanier lead to a visit to one of the communities of L'arche in France, and ultimately gave him the direction for which he was seeking. The simple message of greeting opened him up to God's call. He realized that he didn't have to "do" anything. He just had to "be". He ended up leaving the academic life for the community life of L'arche. He became the chaplain and administrator to Daybreak.
His learning was perhaps the most important thing that any of us can discover on our spiritual journey. We are called, not to do, but to be. To be what God intends us to be. To be real people living in a real world. And for most of us that is not a call to anything extraordinary. It is a call to live our lives intentionally. To share the love we have for Christ with those who need to hear the message of love.
But that listening requires that we prepare ourselves carefully. It requires that we have a prayer life. That we read and study the scriptures. That we participate in the life of the church. And that we carry with us the Christ we serve.
Advent is time of anticipation, a time for looking forward. John the Baptist continues to remind us that we must first look within. We must reflect upon our lives and changes that prepare us for the coming of Christ. Change is a call and a challenge to grow but it is also a reality of life. To live is to change; to grow is to change greatly. John in the wilderness recognized his need to change and grow.
For us too, it means change and growth. There are always mountains and hills in our lives which need to be torn down. There are obstacles which keep us from living intentionally, which keep us from truly serving God. Like those who followed John into the wilderness, we begin by asking for forgiveness. By recognizing what separates us from the love of God. By recognizing what keeps us from reaching to others. Those things we bring to God. Advent is a time to walk into our hearts and to notice the shifting sands of our lives. It is a time to leavethat wilderness place a bit changed and ready to make a difference. Then we are prepared for Christ to be born in us.
Readings: Baruch 5:1-9; Psalm 126; Philippians 1:3-11; Luke 3:1-6
For the most part, the Old Testament stories which we read Sunday by Sunday, recount the conflicts and struggles of the people of Israel. Once in a while, they offer bright flashes of divine light which speak to us in a much deeper way. Such passages bring us to a realization of what is to come. They speak to us through time. They reveal, not an exact account of future events, but an unfolding of God's plan for the world. It is such passages which prepare us for the good news of the gospel.
Such passages were often the inspiration for Luke. In the events of the life of Christ, he saw the events of the Old Testament coming to pass. He recognized the coming of the kingdom. God would visit the planet. God would be revealed through the coming of Christ. He saw the need for people to be prepared for that coming.
The picture which we get of John the Baptist from Scripture is as the last of the Old Testament prophets. John lived in solitude in the wilderness. There he had companionship with eternal things. There he watched stars blaze in the darkness. There he meditated and prayed. There he listened to the voice of God. And there he spoke words of truth. Difficult words that cut to the heart of the matter. For his message was a call to repentance and forgiveness. The baptism of John conveyed, not what God was saying, but what God was beginning to do.
To hear such a message required commitment. It required risk. It required travelling into the unknown. If you wanted to hear John preach you did not go to the synagogue. He was not to be found there. You had to go to where he was. You had to go far out into the Judean wilderness. You had to be prepared to find God in the least expected places. And isn't that how it often seems to happen? Isn't it through our wilderness experiences that we are enabled to hear God more directly?
I had a friend whom I used to visit who lived in the L'arche community, “Daybreak” in Richmond Hill. L'arche was begun by Jean Vanier to assist those who are developmentally handicapped. It brings together people of all abilities to help each other. My friend Tom was a very simple soul. He lived in the community for over ten years. It allowed him to live independently in a way that none of us ever thought possible. He helped to prepare meals and to do the cleaning. More importantly, he was part of a family.
In the same house with Tom, lived Henri Nouwen. You may have heard of him for he was a well known author. A Roman Catholic priest, an academic, who taught theology both at Yale and at Harvard, he was perhaps an unlikely one to be found in the community. In his book, "Journey to Daybreak", he recounts the story of his search and how it lead him to take up his life there.
He was at a point of transition in his life. He had no idea what he should be doing. Then one day there was a knock at the door. He answered it. It was a young woman.
"Hi, I'm Jan," she said. "I bring you greetings from Jean Vanier."
Immediately his mind went into gear. Did Jean Vanier want him to speak a conference? Or direct a retreat? "That's nice, he said. "What can I do for you?"
"Nothing!" she replied. "I just came to bring you greetings from Jean Vanier." No matter how much she insisted that her purpose, her only purpose, was to bring greetings, the more Henri thought she must be there to ask him to do something. Finally the message sank in. She was bringing him greetings, nothing more.
Some time later, Jean Vanier phoned. "Spend a quiet day with me in prayer," he said. The mind went into gear again. He must want something. But he insisted that his only purpose was to pray with him. His friendship with Jean Vanier lead to a visit to one of the communities of L'arche in France, and ultimately gave him the direction for which he was seeking. The simple message of greeting opened him up to God's call. He realized that he didn't have to "do" anything. He just had to "be". He ended up leaving the academic life for the community life of L'arche. He became the chaplain and administrator to Daybreak.
His learning was perhaps the most important thing that any of us can discover on our spiritual journey. We are called, not to do, but to be. To be what God intends us to be. To be real people living in a real world. And for most of us that is not a call to anything extraordinary. It is a call to live our lives intentionally. To share the love we have for Christ with those who need to hear the message of love.
But that listening requires that we prepare ourselves carefully. It requires that we have a prayer life. That we read and study the scriptures. That we participate in the life of the church. And that we carry with us the Christ we serve.
Advent is time of anticipation, a time for looking forward. John the Baptist continues to remind us that we must first look within. We must reflect upon our lives and changes that prepare us for the coming of Christ. Change is a call and a challenge to grow but it is also a reality of life. To live is to change; to grow is to change greatly. John in the wilderness recognized his need to change and grow.
For us too, it means change and growth. There are always mountains and hills in our lives which need to be torn down. There are obstacles which keep us from living intentionally, which keep us from truly serving God. Like those who followed John into the wilderness, we begin by asking for forgiveness. By recognizing what separates us from the love of God. By recognizing what keeps us from reaching to others. Those things we bring to God. Advent is a time to walk into our hearts and to notice the shifting sands of our lives. It is a time to leavethat wilderness place a bit changed and ready to make a difference. Then we are prepared for Christ to be born in us.
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