Signs of Healing in a Fractured World
Readings: Isaiah 35:1-10; Magnificat; James 5:7-10; Matthew 11:2-11
My first parish was rural in many aspects when I moved there. People would give me directions to come out to their house for a visit. Drive up through Ashburn. Turn right. You'll see a small blue house on the corner. Turn there. Drive a couple of miles. You'll see an old shed. And so on. They would always end with, “You can’t miss it!” Believe me! That was not always the case.
Now we depend on GPS to get us to our destination. We think somehow because it is computerized that it cannot possibly make a mistake. We will surely find our destination if we simply put the right address into it. We trust it to take us to our destination by the best route.
Soon after I moved to Port Hope, I was meeting a friend at the train station in Cobourg. “You can’t miss it!” my friend assured me. I should just go along Division St. and follow the signs. I didn’t trust myself, so I put the address into my GPS. It took me along a side street that came out directly in front of the station – on the other side of the tracks. Indeed, I could miss it!
Living in an age of uncertainty and unrest, a time in society when we worry about the state of the world, about the ecology, about whether there truly is a future, it is easy to miss the signs of hope. We long for the coming of God’s kingdom of Shalom. We look for signs of the activity of God in our daily lives. We look for signs of healing. But somehow we are not attuned to God. We are unable to look beyond our own limitations for signs of the activity of God in history.
But take heart! For John the Baptist, the one of whom Jesus says, “among those born of women no one has arisen greater than he,” missed all the signs of Jesus' coming.
To be fair, John was in prison. What he heard about Jesus from the confines of his prison cell prompted him to ask some serious questions. He considered that Jesus was the long awaited Messiah, but doubts kept creeping in. This Jesus with his urban approach, wandering through the towns and villages preaching good news to the poor, the needy, the outcast presented a totally different perspective to John. In fact, Jesus was not at all what he expected. After all, he is the wild man out in the wilderness, preaching repentance, looking for God to come and judge the people. And so he sends word through his disciples. “Are you the one, or do we wait for another?”
And Jesus sends back word, “Tell John what you hear and see.” John does not understand what is happening. After all, signs of life are difficult to see from behind prison bars. From that perspective, it is so much easier to see death, blindness, disease, and evil. John had announced what Jesus would do. He had dreamed about how God’s power would be shown. He had preached it with fervour. He had shouted at the people, “You brood of vipers!” He was waiting to see what would happen. But it wasn't what he expected. He expected to hear about the axe falling at the root of the tree, about retribution, about the overthrowing of the political powers; yet he hears nothing of the sort. Instead of the axe, there is Jesus healing the sick, cleansing the lepers, raising the dead, preaching the good news of the gospel. It was so far from John's expectations that he could not be certain.
There is a wonderful Peanuts cartoon of Lucy talking to Charlie Brown. She has convinced Schroeder that her religion is better than his.
“How did you do that?” asks Charlie.
“It was easy!” says Lucy. “I hit him over the head with my lunch pail,”
That was the problem for John the Baptist. He himself expected to be hit over the head, to be judged, to be deemed unworthy. He expected the changes in society to take place through retribution. His mission was to prepare the people for disaster.
For Jesus, the mission was quite the opposite. He preached a Gospel of love and generosity. His mission was to do as he was doing, healing the sick, making the blind see and the lame walk, raising the dead. He knew that it was never going to happen by hitting people over the head with a lunch pail or railing at them about the retribution to come. That would never bring them to their senses. That would never get them to accept God. He knew that it was through faithful people coming into relationship with a loving God that the kingdom would be ushered in.
Isaiah offers us wonderful images of healing and reconciliation. He had a balanced vision of human healing. For him it was not merely physical but was connected also to emotional well being. He trusted that God would re-create new life for God's people. Wilderness would be turned into lush farmland and a salvation road could be fashioned where one had been thought impossible. Even humanity would be remade to walk the salvation road singing all the way to Zion itself. Hope, he knew is alive even at times of apparent hopelessness.
Everything about the Christian story teaches that real wholeness, real change comes from within. Rebirth comes from within our hearts, from within our lives and families, from within our communities. That is why Jesus’ ministry worked. Those who found themselves in Jesus’ presence were reborn. They were healed. The lame walked, the deaf heard, the dead were raised, the poor heard good news. Change took place in people’s lives, and what a different kind of change it was. Humanity was getting healed.
We all need that kind of healing. It is certainly needed in First Nations communities across Canada. They are beginning to defend their identity, their nationhood, their environment. It is a challenge to every one of us, a challenge that we need to take up. They challenge us to be faithful to the treaties we have made. They challenge us to be faithful to the truth rooted in the creation covenant calling every one of us to be stewards of the land. They call us to be open to their sense of spirituality, wondering if we will accept their desire to be both First Nations and Christian. They challenge us to understand our need for strong communities where people are open to helping one another.
You have undertaken a program about the Truth and Reconciliation process. That is important work for everyone in our community. Hopefully as you undertake this learning experience, you will learn about your own need for truth telling and reconciliation. This church community is a fractured one. How badly you need that kind of healing! That is the gift of Advent. It is a wilderness time in the Christian year, a time to consider our need for repentance, a time to allow God’s healing grace to permeate our lives, a time to transform our lives. It is above all a time to prepare for Christ to be born in us.
Advent is a time of renewal and transformation in the Church year. It is a time to be spiritually prepared for Christmas. It is a time for the wilderness to be brought to new life. There are many people who need that kind of transformation in their lives. We need to go where Jesus goes. We need to do what Jesus does – serving, healing, helping, and sharing out in the world. We need to live lives of generosity and love.
Our task during this Advent season is to let Christ come more fully into our lives. It is to share with others the joy of his presence by our concern for the suffering and the poor. It is to embrace this wilderness time and use it as a time to grow spiritually so that the wilderness rejoices and blossoms. It is to embrace the good news that God’s kingdom of shalom is breaking in, that change is taking place and that humanity is getting healed. It is to live our lives in Christ. It is to see Christ in those we meet. It is to prepare the way of the Lord.
Saturday, December 10, 2016
Saturday, December 3, 2016
The Second Sunday of Advent, Year A
The Hope of Advent
Readings: Isaiah 11:1-10; Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19; Romans 15:4-13; Matthew 3:1-12
A friend was visiting a local church for some special occasion and took her young daughter with her. The preacher was quite fiery in his delivery, trying to make an impression on the congregation. The little girl looked up at her mom and asked, "Why is that man shouting at us?"
I resonated with the child at some deep level, remembering my father's 'hell and damnation' style of preaching as I was growing up. I have always found such preaching disturbing and rather frightening.
I find the same thing when I read about John the Baptist. There is no doubt about it; he is more than a little disturbing. It isn't just his wild appearance, although camel's hair clothing is certainly part of it. His food – locusts and wild honey – also leaves much to be desired. The crux for me is his preaching, that 'fire and brimstone' message aimed at making even the saintly quake in their boots. There is so much anger in it. Perhaps that is what frightens me most, for it causes me to reflect on the anger that I carry in my life.
It seems to me as I read the newspaper that the whole world is erupting in anger. There are countries in the world that have been constantly at war for over forty years. We live in a world under constant threat of terrorist acts. Besides that, many people, even national leaders, ignore the threat of humankind on the environment.
Closer to home, violent acts take place every day on our city streets. There is bullying in our schools, racist acts, violence against women ...
I try not to be political, but there was an article in the Saturday Star that consolidates what I have been mulling over as I prepared to preach this week. It speaks of the rising tide of populism that led to a Trump victory in the United States, and a Brexit vote in the United Kingdom. Our Prime Minister recognizes that Canadians too are feeling the same kind of anger and frustration. He says of the last election, “We didn’t do it to the same degree of anger – we tried to channel it into hope instead – but the recognition of the same issue was there.”
There is anger and frustration in the Church as well. We look back to glory days when our Sunday Schools were full of children. We look out on a sea of grey and wonder where the Church will be a generation from now. There are controversial issues that divide the people of God.
How do we channel all of the anger and frustration into hope? Someone commented to me that to understand the preaching of John the Baptist one had to take a look at the bad people in our world – the deranged, the wicked, the evil, and then look inside themselves at how they have fallen short of the glory of God. I suspect that is very true.
The thing is that when we consider our own culpability in the scheme of things we can come up feeling pretty good about ourselves. We wonder whether there is any relevance for us in the message of John the Baptist. John is not an easy prophet. He sees the axe lying at the root of the trees. He writes off the world as it is. He proclaims that we – even the most Godly of us – cannot escape the retribution that is coming. He is not talking to terrible people who have perpetrated unspeakable atrocities. They are not the ones he is calling a "brood of vipers". He is speaking to good, upright, synagogue-attending Pharisees and Saducees. He is speaking to us.
These are people who have followed him out into the wilderness looking to further their faith. The deeds that he is railing against are not the works of darkness, of people who never go to church. They are the self-destructive behaviours of those who do.
"Demonstrate to me," he is saying, "that you really are repentant. Reconcile with your friend that you haven't spoken to in twenty-five years. Be the first to offer your hand in reconciliation. Don't ignore cheating when you see things happening down at the office. Give to the poor; don't just pass them by on the street. Take your givings to the church seriously. Don't just throw a loonie on the plate and think it's enough."
When people ask John what to do he does not say, "Go and pray about it", or "go on a retreat," or "offer a sacrifice to God." He says, "Change your lifestyle." Do a complete turn around. Become a different person.
So where is the grace in all of this? Where is the hope? We are a people, a nation, a world under judgement. But there is much that is worthy of becoming the ingredients of the future. God's kingdom is not some future event. God's kingdom is here now.
Isaiah's beautiful vision of the wolf living with the lamb, the leopard with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together is a vision of God working through history. It is a vision of God's kingdom of Shalom. Reconciliation with nature and trust among power structures are within the realm of possibility. In our own apocalyptic vision are many signs of hope. We do not have to have a vision of destruction. We are not helpless spectators to the activity of God. We are stewards and instruments of God. We are in relationship with God. We are part of the process of redemption.
But it takes a willingness to come before God and seek God's forgiveness. The wonderful thing about it is that we have a God who wants so badly to forgive.
There was a woman who claimed to have visions of the Virgin Mary. One day she called the Bishop from the Philippines, Cardinal Sin – that really is his name – to tell him about her vision. He didn't pay much attention to her, so she called him again. After five unsuccessful calls, she went to his office and asked to see him.
He decided to put an end to her foolishness. "When you talk to the Virgin Mary this evening," he said to her, "tell her to ask Jesus what my gravest sin was." And so the woman left, happy at last to have been heard. The next day she went back to see the Cardinal.
"Well, did you speak to the Virgin Mary last night?" he asked.
She responded, "Yes, but…"
"But what? Did she ask Jesus about my sin?" Cardinal Sin asked.
"Yes, she did ask him," the woman replied. "But Jesus told her that he had forgotten."
We cannot fathom the wickedness that is in the world. We cannot fathom what possesses mass murderers or terrorists or rapists. But we do know the secrets of our own hearts and our need for forgiveness. That can help us to understand our need to hear the message of John the Baptist. That can help us to commit our lives to God knowing the power of Christ to forgive. That can help us to change our lives to reflect the love of Christ. Then we will be participants in the ushering in of God's peaceable kingdom.
Let us hear those words of John speaking to us across the ages. “Repent! Change your lifestyle! Demonstrate in your lives that you really are repentant.”
That is the hope of this season of Advent as it calls us to repentance. Commit your life to God knowing the power of Christ to forgive. Reflect that power to forgive in your own dealings. Reflect the love of Christ in your life. Seek the love of Christ in those you meet. Participate in the ushering in of God's peaceable kingdom. Shalom!
Readings: Isaiah 11:1-10; Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19; Romans 15:4-13; Matthew 3:1-12
A friend was visiting a local church for some special occasion and took her young daughter with her. The preacher was quite fiery in his delivery, trying to make an impression on the congregation. The little girl looked up at her mom and asked, "Why is that man shouting at us?"
I resonated with the child at some deep level, remembering my father's 'hell and damnation' style of preaching as I was growing up. I have always found such preaching disturbing and rather frightening.
I find the same thing when I read about John the Baptist. There is no doubt about it; he is more than a little disturbing. It isn't just his wild appearance, although camel's hair clothing is certainly part of it. His food – locusts and wild honey – also leaves much to be desired. The crux for me is his preaching, that 'fire and brimstone' message aimed at making even the saintly quake in their boots. There is so much anger in it. Perhaps that is what frightens me most, for it causes me to reflect on the anger that I carry in my life.
It seems to me as I read the newspaper that the whole world is erupting in anger. There are countries in the world that have been constantly at war for over forty years. We live in a world under constant threat of terrorist acts. Besides that, many people, even national leaders, ignore the threat of humankind on the environment.
Closer to home, violent acts take place every day on our city streets. There is bullying in our schools, racist acts, violence against women ...
I try not to be political, but there was an article in the Saturday Star that consolidates what I have been mulling over as I prepared to preach this week. It speaks of the rising tide of populism that led to a Trump victory in the United States, and a Brexit vote in the United Kingdom. Our Prime Minister recognizes that Canadians too are feeling the same kind of anger and frustration. He says of the last election, “We didn’t do it to the same degree of anger – we tried to channel it into hope instead – but the recognition of the same issue was there.”
There is anger and frustration in the Church as well. We look back to glory days when our Sunday Schools were full of children. We look out on a sea of grey and wonder where the Church will be a generation from now. There are controversial issues that divide the people of God.
How do we channel all of the anger and frustration into hope? Someone commented to me that to understand the preaching of John the Baptist one had to take a look at the bad people in our world – the deranged, the wicked, the evil, and then look inside themselves at how they have fallen short of the glory of God. I suspect that is very true.
The thing is that when we consider our own culpability in the scheme of things we can come up feeling pretty good about ourselves. We wonder whether there is any relevance for us in the message of John the Baptist. John is not an easy prophet. He sees the axe lying at the root of the trees. He writes off the world as it is. He proclaims that we – even the most Godly of us – cannot escape the retribution that is coming. He is not talking to terrible people who have perpetrated unspeakable atrocities. They are not the ones he is calling a "brood of vipers". He is speaking to good, upright, synagogue-attending Pharisees and Saducees. He is speaking to us.
These are people who have followed him out into the wilderness looking to further their faith. The deeds that he is railing against are not the works of darkness, of people who never go to church. They are the self-destructive behaviours of those who do.
"Demonstrate to me," he is saying, "that you really are repentant. Reconcile with your friend that you haven't spoken to in twenty-five years. Be the first to offer your hand in reconciliation. Don't ignore cheating when you see things happening down at the office. Give to the poor; don't just pass them by on the street. Take your givings to the church seriously. Don't just throw a loonie on the plate and think it's enough."
When people ask John what to do he does not say, "Go and pray about it", or "go on a retreat," or "offer a sacrifice to God." He says, "Change your lifestyle." Do a complete turn around. Become a different person.
So where is the grace in all of this? Where is the hope? We are a people, a nation, a world under judgement. But there is much that is worthy of becoming the ingredients of the future. God's kingdom is not some future event. God's kingdom is here now.
Isaiah's beautiful vision of the wolf living with the lamb, the leopard with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together is a vision of God working through history. It is a vision of God's kingdom of Shalom. Reconciliation with nature and trust among power structures are within the realm of possibility. In our own apocalyptic vision are many signs of hope. We do not have to have a vision of destruction. We are not helpless spectators to the activity of God. We are stewards and instruments of God. We are in relationship with God. We are part of the process of redemption.
But it takes a willingness to come before God and seek God's forgiveness. The wonderful thing about it is that we have a God who wants so badly to forgive.
There was a woman who claimed to have visions of the Virgin Mary. One day she called the Bishop from the Philippines, Cardinal Sin – that really is his name – to tell him about her vision. He didn't pay much attention to her, so she called him again. After five unsuccessful calls, she went to his office and asked to see him.
He decided to put an end to her foolishness. "When you talk to the Virgin Mary this evening," he said to her, "tell her to ask Jesus what my gravest sin was." And so the woman left, happy at last to have been heard. The next day she went back to see the Cardinal.
"Well, did you speak to the Virgin Mary last night?" he asked.
She responded, "Yes, but…"
"But what? Did she ask Jesus about my sin?" Cardinal Sin asked.
"Yes, she did ask him," the woman replied. "But Jesus told her that he had forgotten."
We cannot fathom the wickedness that is in the world. We cannot fathom what possesses mass murderers or terrorists or rapists. But we do know the secrets of our own hearts and our need for forgiveness. That can help us to understand our need to hear the message of John the Baptist. That can help us to commit our lives to God knowing the power of Christ to forgive. That can help us to change our lives to reflect the love of Christ. Then we will be participants in the ushering in of God's peaceable kingdom.
Let us hear those words of John speaking to us across the ages. “Repent! Change your lifestyle! Demonstrate in your lives that you really are repentant.”
That is the hope of this season of Advent as it calls us to repentance. Commit your life to God knowing the power of Christ to forgive. Reflect that power to forgive in your own dealings. Reflect the love of Christ in your life. Seek the love of Christ in those you meet. Participate in the ushering in of God's peaceable kingdom. Shalom!
Friday, November 25, 2016
The First Sunday of Advent, Year A
Swords into Ploughshares
Readings: Isaiah 2:1-5; Psalm 122; Romans 13:11-14; Matthew 24:36-44
Wake up! Be on guard! Stay alert! Be prepared! We hear that message every year at the beginning of Advent. It is an important reminder to the Christian that our Saviour will come again and that we need to be ready for that day.
Yet it always strikes me as ominous, as a dire warning about my spiritual state. Perhaps that goes back to my childhood to a time when apocalyptic readings meant hell and damnation sermons. The message of Advent is not intended that way. It is not a message that is intended to fill us with fear and apprehension; rather, it is intended to excite us and to fill us with hopeful expectation, the kind of expectation that comes as we prepare ourselves for a visit from a dear friend.
Consider how you prepare for such a visit. If you are anything like me, it begins with a thorough cleaning of the house. I change the bed linens in the guest bedroom and put out fresh towels. I plan meals and do a special shopping. I think about the people who are coming to visit, about what they might like to do. I think about all the things I want to share with them about what is happening in my life. I think of all the questions I have for them about family, friends and work.
That, it seems to me, is a good way to approach the season of Advent. The readings point out the way in which we can prepare ourselves for God’s coming, for God’s presence amongst us.
You can see it in the passage from the Old Testament. Isaiah urges the people of Israel to prepare themselves to be channels of God’s peace in the world. He has a vision of people coming as pilgrims to worship God. He calls them to put aside what kills society and to affirm what gives life. “Beat swords into ploughshares,” he urges them. What a wonderful metaphor for what needs to happen to bring about a state of peace! Instruments of war are converted into farm implements. People are able to live in contentment in their own places, tending to their own lives. Right and wrong are judged, taking away the sphere of oppression. There is no more conflict.
Do we dare stand mutely by as we read those prophetic words from Isaiah? Such words should radically transform our very lives, each and every day. They should bring us to a state of repentance. What are the swords in our lives that could be reshaped this Advent into tools of growth and peace? How can we contribute to peace in this world by our own reconciliation and peacemaking?
On an episode of CSI one of the detectives had to do an investigation in a church. She was reflecting on how it felt to be in a church, and on how rarely she attended any more. "Every time I go," she said making her excuses, "the sermon is about forgiveness." There is no mystery about that. What a need we have to hear the message that we are forgiven! What a need we have to forgive others!
What action could we take this Advent? Is there a conflict in your life that you could amend? It might be apologizing for an offense, or saying a word of appreciation to someone with whom you have a difficult relationship, or reaching out to someone who has offended you.
That is the kind of action that Paul is envisioning in his letter to the Romans. The whole issue of peace begins at a very personal level. It begins with peace within ourselves. That extends into our relationships. Only when we are at peace within ourselves will we find peace at wider and higher levels. "Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me, " one hymn puts it. Paul knew that. And so he issued a wake up call. He invited the Christians in Rome to wake up, to offer to God all of their love, an active peace seeking and peace making which can bring day out of night.
Isn’t that what we need in our church? A spirit of reconciliation and love that pervades our whole community so that we look at one another and see Christ! People should be able to smell Christ on us!
Isn't that what we need in our world? We live in dark times, times of terrorism, of ecological disaster. We have come to know a world where we recognize that we live with the possibility of it all coming crashing to an end. Paul offers Christ as the means of changing our life's direction. What a need we have of conversion! Of really living our lives in the light of Christ!
What can we do to bring ourselves closer to God during this Advent season? Can it be a time of renewal through prayer and worship? Can we find ways to put aside the busyness of the holidays and make them the holy days that they are intended to be? There are so many choices to be made in our world. It can be overwhelming. We have to sift; we have to choose; we have to sort out. We have to determine our direction. The sorting out takes place through our choices. These are times to consider our responsibility as good stewards of God’s creation. They are times to use the world’s abundance with restraint and concern for the needs of others. They are times to be advocates for the poor and for the needy. Advent is one of those times in the church year when we simply need to take stock and consider all the good things that God has provided for us, and then determine where God is leading.
The wake up call is there in the gospel too. Jesus speaks with a sense of urgency. He reminds the disciples of the story of Noah and the flood. “That is what the end days will be like,” he tells them. People will be going about the daily routine. “It is up to each of you,” he is saying, “to be ready for God.” It isn’t about being good. We know that we fall short of what God expects. We know too that God is there to reach out in forgiveness. This is not about judgement. This is not a dreadful anxious watching, but a joyful readiness for the signs of the coming of God into our human experience. We can look back at past ages and see what God has done in the world. We can see the signs of God’s presence in the lives of faithful people. The present belongs to God as well. There are signs all around us that God is at work. We experience God in the beauty of nature. We see God reflected in the other people. We meet God in our worship. God is in the future as well. That is why we need to keep awake. That is why we need to be prepared. We need to recognize God in that coming.
I was sitting next to a parishioner when her beeper went off. "Is there a phone I can use?" she asked. I let her into my office and went back to where the women were gathered. Knowing that it possibly meant that a kidney was available, they were already deep in prayer. She came out a few minutes later. "Not this time! False alarm!" And we all went back to our meeting.
It was amazing to me that she could wait as weeks turned into months with such a deep sense of serenity when it meant so much to her. I knew that three mornings a week she went to the hospital for dialysis. I knew the restrictions on her diet. I knew that she carefully measured her intake of fluids. What a trial that is for someone who loves a good cup of tea! I knew that she lived daily with the knowledge that without a transplant she would not survive. Yet she lived each day in hope and expectation. Her deep faith accepted that God would answer her prayer, either with the needed surgery or she would meet face to face with the God she served.
Then came the day when the beeper went off for real. She hurried to the hospital. It was a good match. She had the surgery. Everything went well and day by day she grew stronger. Not that the watching and waiting were over. There were foul smelling anti-rejection drugs to take. (They really do smell like a skunk!) There were still the restrictions on her diet. But day by day the colour came back into her face.
There came the wonderful celebration when she was back at church. At the chancel steps she placed a bouquet of white roses. In the centre of the bouquet standing out from the rest was one beautiful red rose – "for the person who gave me new life," she explained – and one yellow, "for my new life."
As we journey through Advent, let us watch and wait in joyful readiness for the signs of the coming of God into our human experience. It is a time to welcome Christ into our hearts. It is a time to turn the swords in our lives into ploughshares of love, understanding and peace. It is a time for repentance. It is a time for renewed faith and commitment. It is a time to hold fast to the hope that Christ will come again in glory. It is a time to wait in joyful expectation.
Let us keep this promise alive so that we can say at last, "Maranatha! Jesus comes!" What a wake up call that will be!
Readings: Isaiah 2:1-5; Psalm 122; Romans 13:11-14; Matthew 24:36-44
Wake up! Be on guard! Stay alert! Be prepared! We hear that message every year at the beginning of Advent. It is an important reminder to the Christian that our Saviour will come again and that we need to be ready for that day.
Yet it always strikes me as ominous, as a dire warning about my spiritual state. Perhaps that goes back to my childhood to a time when apocalyptic readings meant hell and damnation sermons. The message of Advent is not intended that way. It is not a message that is intended to fill us with fear and apprehension; rather, it is intended to excite us and to fill us with hopeful expectation, the kind of expectation that comes as we prepare ourselves for a visit from a dear friend.
Consider how you prepare for such a visit. If you are anything like me, it begins with a thorough cleaning of the house. I change the bed linens in the guest bedroom and put out fresh towels. I plan meals and do a special shopping. I think about the people who are coming to visit, about what they might like to do. I think about all the things I want to share with them about what is happening in my life. I think of all the questions I have for them about family, friends and work.
That, it seems to me, is a good way to approach the season of Advent. The readings point out the way in which we can prepare ourselves for God’s coming, for God’s presence amongst us.
You can see it in the passage from the Old Testament. Isaiah urges the people of Israel to prepare themselves to be channels of God’s peace in the world. He has a vision of people coming as pilgrims to worship God. He calls them to put aside what kills society and to affirm what gives life. “Beat swords into ploughshares,” he urges them. What a wonderful metaphor for what needs to happen to bring about a state of peace! Instruments of war are converted into farm implements. People are able to live in contentment in their own places, tending to their own lives. Right and wrong are judged, taking away the sphere of oppression. There is no more conflict.
Do we dare stand mutely by as we read those prophetic words from Isaiah? Such words should radically transform our very lives, each and every day. They should bring us to a state of repentance. What are the swords in our lives that could be reshaped this Advent into tools of growth and peace? How can we contribute to peace in this world by our own reconciliation and peacemaking?
On an episode of CSI one of the detectives had to do an investigation in a church. She was reflecting on how it felt to be in a church, and on how rarely she attended any more. "Every time I go," she said making her excuses, "the sermon is about forgiveness." There is no mystery about that. What a need we have to hear the message that we are forgiven! What a need we have to forgive others!
What action could we take this Advent? Is there a conflict in your life that you could amend? It might be apologizing for an offense, or saying a word of appreciation to someone with whom you have a difficult relationship, or reaching out to someone who has offended you.
That is the kind of action that Paul is envisioning in his letter to the Romans. The whole issue of peace begins at a very personal level. It begins with peace within ourselves. That extends into our relationships. Only when we are at peace within ourselves will we find peace at wider and higher levels. "Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me, " one hymn puts it. Paul knew that. And so he issued a wake up call. He invited the Christians in Rome to wake up, to offer to God all of their love, an active peace seeking and peace making which can bring day out of night.
Isn’t that what we need in our church? A spirit of reconciliation and love that pervades our whole community so that we look at one another and see Christ! People should be able to smell Christ on us!
Isn't that what we need in our world? We live in dark times, times of terrorism, of ecological disaster. We have come to know a world where we recognize that we live with the possibility of it all coming crashing to an end. Paul offers Christ as the means of changing our life's direction. What a need we have of conversion! Of really living our lives in the light of Christ!
What can we do to bring ourselves closer to God during this Advent season? Can it be a time of renewal through prayer and worship? Can we find ways to put aside the busyness of the holidays and make them the holy days that they are intended to be? There are so many choices to be made in our world. It can be overwhelming. We have to sift; we have to choose; we have to sort out. We have to determine our direction. The sorting out takes place through our choices. These are times to consider our responsibility as good stewards of God’s creation. They are times to use the world’s abundance with restraint and concern for the needs of others. They are times to be advocates for the poor and for the needy. Advent is one of those times in the church year when we simply need to take stock and consider all the good things that God has provided for us, and then determine where God is leading.
The wake up call is there in the gospel too. Jesus speaks with a sense of urgency. He reminds the disciples of the story of Noah and the flood. “That is what the end days will be like,” he tells them. People will be going about the daily routine. “It is up to each of you,” he is saying, “to be ready for God.” It isn’t about being good. We know that we fall short of what God expects. We know too that God is there to reach out in forgiveness. This is not about judgement. This is not a dreadful anxious watching, but a joyful readiness for the signs of the coming of God into our human experience. We can look back at past ages and see what God has done in the world. We can see the signs of God’s presence in the lives of faithful people. The present belongs to God as well. There are signs all around us that God is at work. We experience God in the beauty of nature. We see God reflected in the other people. We meet God in our worship. God is in the future as well. That is why we need to keep awake. That is why we need to be prepared. We need to recognize God in that coming.
I was sitting next to a parishioner when her beeper went off. "Is there a phone I can use?" she asked. I let her into my office and went back to where the women were gathered. Knowing that it possibly meant that a kidney was available, they were already deep in prayer. She came out a few minutes later. "Not this time! False alarm!" And we all went back to our meeting.
It was amazing to me that she could wait as weeks turned into months with such a deep sense of serenity when it meant so much to her. I knew that three mornings a week she went to the hospital for dialysis. I knew the restrictions on her diet. I knew that she carefully measured her intake of fluids. What a trial that is for someone who loves a good cup of tea! I knew that she lived daily with the knowledge that without a transplant she would not survive. Yet she lived each day in hope and expectation. Her deep faith accepted that God would answer her prayer, either with the needed surgery or she would meet face to face with the God she served.
Then came the day when the beeper went off for real. She hurried to the hospital. It was a good match. She had the surgery. Everything went well and day by day she grew stronger. Not that the watching and waiting were over. There were foul smelling anti-rejection drugs to take. (They really do smell like a skunk!) There were still the restrictions on her diet. But day by day the colour came back into her face.
There came the wonderful celebration when she was back at church. At the chancel steps she placed a bouquet of white roses. In the centre of the bouquet standing out from the rest was one beautiful red rose – "for the person who gave me new life," she explained – and one yellow, "for my new life."
As we journey through Advent, let us watch and wait in joyful readiness for the signs of the coming of God into our human experience. It is a time to welcome Christ into our hearts. It is a time to turn the swords in our lives into ploughshares of love, understanding and peace. It is a time for repentance. It is a time for renewed faith and commitment. It is a time to hold fast to the hope that Christ will come again in glory. It is a time to wait in joyful expectation.
Let us keep this promise alive so that we can say at last, "Maranatha! Jesus comes!" What a wake up call that will be!
Friday, November 18, 2016
The Reign of Christ, Year C
Faith's Illusions
Readings: Jeremiah 23:1-6; Canticle 19; Colossians 1:11-20; Luke 23:33-43
Following a turbulent marriage, Joni Mitchell meditates on life in a song.
“I've looked at clouds from both sides now,
From up and down and still somehow,
It's cloud's illusions I recall,
I really don't know clouds at all”
She goes on to say that it is not only clouds, but life that she doesn’t really understand. In her topsy-turvy world up is down, good is bad, more is less.
I resonate with her on many levels. There have been turbulent times in my life when nothing seemed to be the way it should be. I would look up at the sky and see only dark clouds, even when the sun was shining. And yet I knew, even at my lowest times, that God loved me. I knew that God was there even when I was unable to sense God’s presence.
Our faith is based on a topsy-turvy world. That table turning, topsy-turvy way of looking at things is God’s way. Consider what we believe! God took on human form. God is a king born in a manger to lowly parents. God is a friend of outcasts and strangers. God came to serve rather than to be served. God died on the cross as a common criminal to bring life to humankind.
That is, after all, what we are called to reflect on this last Sunday of the Church Year, as we celebrate the reign of Christ. The readings call us to examine what it means that Christ reigns as king. What is the Christian image of kingship? For ours is a king who reigns, not from a throne, but from a cross. And that is such a topsy-turvy way of expressing kingship.
In our humanity, in our hunger for power, we so often get it wrong. How often has the cross become a symbol of might rather than a symbol of peace? Christianity began as a small group of powerless people in the eastern provinces of the Roman Empire. But by the time of Constantine in the fourth century, the church had become integrated into the social system of the same empire that had persecuted it. The Christians who had been persecuted became the persecutors. Constantine became the righteous king through whom God's reign could be established on earth.
In medieval times, Emperors throughout Europe considered themselves to be kings by divine right, representing the fatherhood of God on earth. How many wars have been fought because of that way of thinking? Fought in the name of God with shouts from both sides that "God is on our side"?
What a different view of kingship we Christians are called to proclaim! In the Old Testament reading for today, the prophet Jeremiah proclaims, “The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will raise up for David a righteous branch.” He is concerned with the quality of those who are in leadership in Israel. In fact, he does not hold a very high opinion of those who are. He makes a pledge to the people of Israel on behalf of God, the ultimate shepherd. God will gather the people back from exile. God will guide them back to Israel where they will enjoy good leadership.
As Christians we discern in the reading a promise of the coming of Jesus who embodies righteousness and offers a vision of justice that stands out in contrast to the reality of the society in which we live. We know that it will come at great price. King Jesus will indeed come, and will sacrifice life itself to give life to the people of God, because in God’s topsy-turvy world death is life.
The Gospel once again proclaims the story of the crucifixion. The sign placed on the cross reminds us that Jesus is a king. And even as he hangs on the cross there are those who hope that King Jesus will come in power. “Save yourself and us!” one of the criminals shouts out. Isn’t Jesus the longed for Messiah, the one who will address Israel’s hope of liberation? That Jesus is, after all, the Jesus of the Gospel. Did he not march into the synagogue and overturn the tables of the moneychangers? Did he not roll up the scroll in the temple as he announced good news to the poor, to the hungry, to those who mourned? Did he not proclaim change?
But then in God’s mysterious way, he died on a cross as a common criminal. In God’s topsy-turvy world is it the end of power, or the beginning? Jesus was enormously powerful, even from the cross. He spread a revolution of love and grace. Christ the King is a counter image of a life poured out in compassion. That is why two thousand years later we still follow him.
A family, father, mother and two small children lived in a small house in a rural village. One night there was a terrible fire. The house went up in flames. There was no fire engine in this remote spot, and so the villagers stood around helplessly, watching the blaze.
Just then a young man arrived on the scene. Taking no thought for himself he darted into the house. He emerged carrying a small child under each arm. The children were unharmed, but he himself was badly burned.
The parents of the two children died in the fire. There was much sympathy for the two children. Several people wanted to adopt them. When the judge arrived to decide who would adopt the children, there were two petitions that came before the court. The first was a wealthy landowner. He had money, position, and a fine house to offer the children. The second was the man who had rescued the children from the flames. When the judge asked him what right he had to ask the court for the children no words were necessary. He merely held up his hands to reveal the scars.
What a different King we follow! King Jesus holds out his hands to us. We see the scars and know that Jesus’ suffering and pain was his royal road to us. It was in giving up his life for us that he showed us God’s glory and passionate love. As Christians we are part of God’s topsy-turvy world. It is a world where contradictions bear fruit. Like existence, life does not end in death. Rather, death ends in life.
What are the signs that it is happening in our world? What are the signs of resurrection? Because so often all we can see are dark clouds. All we can understand are the illusions. All we experience is the doubts.
It is our ministry as servants of Christ, our bearing Christ to the world that helps us to see and understand life as it is. It begins with each one of us recognizing that we lead by serving. All of us come every day in contact with people in need. And don't think for a moment that it doesn't matter. And don't think for a moment that you don't know what to do. And don't think that you need special training. Often it is a ministry of compassionate listening which is most needed in a world where no one ever stops or cares. And every one of us can do that. It is in reaching out to others that we accept the servant ministry that reflects our acceptance of Christ as king in our lives.
As our church year comes to a close, we concentrate on the coming of the king. Does that numb us to the suffering about us and to our responsibility in the midst of it all? Or does it inspire us to loving service?
May Christ the King be king of our lives now as he shall be forever. May the truth of Christ's kingship spur us on to living our lives for him and for others!
Readings: Jeremiah 23:1-6; Canticle 19; Colossians 1:11-20; Luke 23:33-43
Following a turbulent marriage, Joni Mitchell meditates on life in a song.
“I've looked at clouds from both sides now,
From up and down and still somehow,
It's cloud's illusions I recall,
I really don't know clouds at all”
She goes on to say that it is not only clouds, but life that she doesn’t really understand. In her topsy-turvy world up is down, good is bad, more is less.
I resonate with her on many levels. There have been turbulent times in my life when nothing seemed to be the way it should be. I would look up at the sky and see only dark clouds, even when the sun was shining. And yet I knew, even at my lowest times, that God loved me. I knew that God was there even when I was unable to sense God’s presence.
Our faith is based on a topsy-turvy world. That table turning, topsy-turvy way of looking at things is God’s way. Consider what we believe! God took on human form. God is a king born in a manger to lowly parents. God is a friend of outcasts and strangers. God came to serve rather than to be served. God died on the cross as a common criminal to bring life to humankind.
That is, after all, what we are called to reflect on this last Sunday of the Church Year, as we celebrate the reign of Christ. The readings call us to examine what it means that Christ reigns as king. What is the Christian image of kingship? For ours is a king who reigns, not from a throne, but from a cross. And that is such a topsy-turvy way of expressing kingship.
In our humanity, in our hunger for power, we so often get it wrong. How often has the cross become a symbol of might rather than a symbol of peace? Christianity began as a small group of powerless people in the eastern provinces of the Roman Empire. But by the time of Constantine in the fourth century, the church had become integrated into the social system of the same empire that had persecuted it. The Christians who had been persecuted became the persecutors. Constantine became the righteous king through whom God's reign could be established on earth.
In medieval times, Emperors throughout Europe considered themselves to be kings by divine right, representing the fatherhood of God on earth. How many wars have been fought because of that way of thinking? Fought in the name of God with shouts from both sides that "God is on our side"?
What a different view of kingship we Christians are called to proclaim! In the Old Testament reading for today, the prophet Jeremiah proclaims, “The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will raise up for David a righteous branch.” He is concerned with the quality of those who are in leadership in Israel. In fact, he does not hold a very high opinion of those who are. He makes a pledge to the people of Israel on behalf of God, the ultimate shepherd. God will gather the people back from exile. God will guide them back to Israel where they will enjoy good leadership.
As Christians we discern in the reading a promise of the coming of Jesus who embodies righteousness and offers a vision of justice that stands out in contrast to the reality of the society in which we live. We know that it will come at great price. King Jesus will indeed come, and will sacrifice life itself to give life to the people of God, because in God’s topsy-turvy world death is life.
The Gospel once again proclaims the story of the crucifixion. The sign placed on the cross reminds us that Jesus is a king. And even as he hangs on the cross there are those who hope that King Jesus will come in power. “Save yourself and us!” one of the criminals shouts out. Isn’t Jesus the longed for Messiah, the one who will address Israel’s hope of liberation? That Jesus is, after all, the Jesus of the Gospel. Did he not march into the synagogue and overturn the tables of the moneychangers? Did he not roll up the scroll in the temple as he announced good news to the poor, to the hungry, to those who mourned? Did he not proclaim change?
But then in God’s mysterious way, he died on a cross as a common criminal. In God’s topsy-turvy world is it the end of power, or the beginning? Jesus was enormously powerful, even from the cross. He spread a revolution of love and grace. Christ the King is a counter image of a life poured out in compassion. That is why two thousand years later we still follow him.
A family, father, mother and two small children lived in a small house in a rural village. One night there was a terrible fire. The house went up in flames. There was no fire engine in this remote spot, and so the villagers stood around helplessly, watching the blaze.
Just then a young man arrived on the scene. Taking no thought for himself he darted into the house. He emerged carrying a small child under each arm. The children were unharmed, but he himself was badly burned.
The parents of the two children died in the fire. There was much sympathy for the two children. Several people wanted to adopt them. When the judge arrived to decide who would adopt the children, there were two petitions that came before the court. The first was a wealthy landowner. He had money, position, and a fine house to offer the children. The second was the man who had rescued the children from the flames. When the judge asked him what right he had to ask the court for the children no words were necessary. He merely held up his hands to reveal the scars.
What a different King we follow! King Jesus holds out his hands to us. We see the scars and know that Jesus’ suffering and pain was his royal road to us. It was in giving up his life for us that he showed us God’s glory and passionate love. As Christians we are part of God’s topsy-turvy world. It is a world where contradictions bear fruit. Like existence, life does not end in death. Rather, death ends in life.
What are the signs that it is happening in our world? What are the signs of resurrection? Because so often all we can see are dark clouds. All we can understand are the illusions. All we experience is the doubts.
It is our ministry as servants of Christ, our bearing Christ to the world that helps us to see and understand life as it is. It begins with each one of us recognizing that we lead by serving. All of us come every day in contact with people in need. And don't think for a moment that it doesn't matter. And don't think for a moment that you don't know what to do. And don't think that you need special training. Often it is a ministry of compassionate listening which is most needed in a world where no one ever stops or cares. And every one of us can do that. It is in reaching out to others that we accept the servant ministry that reflects our acceptance of Christ as king in our lives.
As our church year comes to a close, we concentrate on the coming of the king. Does that numb us to the suffering about us and to our responsibility in the midst of it all? Or does it inspire us to loving service?
May Christ the King be king of our lives now as he shall be forever. May the truth of Christ's kingship spur us on to living our lives for him and for others!
Saturday, November 12, 2016
26th Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 33, Year C
Hope Amidst the Doom And Gloom
Readings: Isaiah 65:17-25; Canticle 3; 2 Thessalonians 3:6-13; Luke 21:5-19 These Sundays leading up to the end of the church year reflect our need to live our lives in expectancy. They call us to find grace in an apocalyptic age, an age that dwells on the end of time. They call us to deal with the ambiguity of living with uncertainty about the future. They call us to live authentically. It represents a classic theme in Scripture and a distinct view of history. But it is a theme that can create a culture of fear. Like the little hen, Henny Penny in the children’s story who thinks the sky is falling in, we can begin to see nothing but chaos, doom and gloom all around us. Or we can look for hope as we remember our continuing relationship with God, a God of grace and love.
That is the theme of today’s gospel. Jesus is speaking to the disciples. He tells them that the beautiful temple they see before them will not last. It is the same temple that was rebuilt at great price following the exile in Babylon. "What are the signs," they want to know.
Jesus paints a portrait of a world in great turmoil and conflict. "Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven." Jesus tells them that it will be a time of testing for the faithful. They will experience persecution, betrayal, hatred and even death.
Let’s face it! That is a frightening picture. It was frightening to the disciples. It was frightening to the early Christians as they struggled with the persecution they faced. Paul in writing to the people of Thessalonica is talking to those who are ready to give up. Fear of what the future may hold causes them to opt out of life. Why bother to work if it will all end tomorrow? They are unable or unwilling to live with that kind of uncertainty that often brings with it a sense of hopelessness and meaninglessness.
And how remarkably like our own time and place! We live in a broken world. We live in a world where there is never peace. War in the Middle East, the war against terrorism, tribal wars in the Sudan and other parts of Africa, conflict between Moslem and Christian, Moslem and Jew, Tamil and Senegalese. The list seems endless. On top of that, there is an increase in the destructive forces of nature; consider the destruction of Hurricane Matthew in Haiti. There is proof, even though many deny it, of global warming as the polar icecaps recede more and more. There are famines. There are plagues such as we have never encountered before like SARS and AIDS. There is poverty in the midst of plenty. There is violence. Many continue to question whether we live in the end times.
The people to whom Isaiah writes, a people in exile felt the same way. The Hebrew people might deserve to be rejected as a whole, but there are genuine committed people in the community. For their sake God’s promises will be fulfilled. It is an apocalyptic vision of a new heaven and a new earth. It will be a restoration of Paradise. God will be so near that the people will sense God’s presence everywhere.
Jesus too gives a message of great hope to the faithful. His answer to the disciples was remarkable when you think about it. He called them to persevere in the faith. He recognized that it was a time of terrible threat; yet it was too, as such times are, a time of deep rewards and rich promise.
“Do not be led astray!” Jesus reminds them. This may be a time of anxiety and uncertainty, but it is a time to keep your wits about you. It is a time to think for yourself, to use the reason that God has given you.
“Don’t go after the ones who would lead you astray,” he continues. Voices may tell you that the end is near. Don’t follow those voices. Follow God. Trust in the promises that God has made to you. Trust in the promises that God has continued to fulfill in you, God’s people.
Finally he tells them, “Don’t be terrified!” Don’t let fear stop you in your tracks! You may feel lost in a wilderness where there are a million questions and no answers. Continue to trust in God’s promises and live in hope.
It is not simply good advice to the disciples; it is also good advice to the early Christians. The early believers were persecuted and tried. Many were martyred for the faith. They needed Jesus’ words to help them live with courage and conviction. Their perseverance in the faith has meant over two thousand years of faithful witness and service.
It puts our own faith into perspective as well. It is not up to us to make claims about special knowledge when it comes to the signs of the end of time. It is up to us to remain faithful to the message of salvation and to be obedient to the teachings of Jesus. It is up to us to live out our lives in faith, being like Christ.
What frightens you most about the future of the Church? Some people fear that we have become irrelevant, that we need to change the way we worship and the way we approach God. Some think that we have deviated too far from Scripture. There are many who fear that we will allow issues like Same-Sex blessing to fracture our unity.
What worries you about the future of the world? Is it the apathy you see in people who care so little about the environment that they will throw their garbage wherever it lands? Is it terrorism, or child poverty, or the escalating violence in society? Dare I say it? Is it that a misogynistic, racist, sexist person got himself elected president of the United States?
Those words of Jesus continue to speak to us. “Don’t be led astray!” There are many voices out there that can lead us astray. I suspect that for many of us it is those nagging voices that tell us that there is nothing we can do to change what is going on. “Don’t go after those voices,” Jesus reminds us. Our call is to follow Jesus, to be like Christ, to seek Christ in those we encounter in our lives, to be Christ in the world. And especially “don’t be terrified!” That will just stop you from accomplishing anything.
So what if we stop wondering when the weeping will cease, and start to do something constructive about the state of the world? We are faced with terrible threat. And yet it is also a time of rich promise. We live with anxiety and uncertainty, but it is also a time of great rewards and benefits. Do we look forward to the coming of God’s reign?
Discipleship is not about waiting for God to do something; it is about anticipating God’s actions in the world. It is about being Christ in the world. It is about serving with compassion and mercy. What will you do today in anticipation of the fulfillment of God’s promises? It is ultimately up to each one of us. It begins with putting our trust in our loving God. It continues with living our lives faithfully and prayerfully. It means especially living out God’s promises in everything we do.
Because, you know, we live in a world that is full of God’s grace and love. That can be seen all around us. It is difficult to miss as we look at the beauty of the changing seasons. We see it in the smiling faces of children. We experience it as we come together as a community of faith.
So no, Henny Penny! The sky is not falling in! There is hope amidst the doom and gloom. Let us affirm that hope as we say together the words of the Canticle for this morning.
Isaiah 12.2–6
Surely, it is God who saves me; * I will trust in him and not be afraid.
For the Lord is my stronghold and my sure defence, * and he will be my Saviour.
Therefore you shall draw water with rejoicing * from the springs of salvation.
And on that day you shall say, * Give thanks to the Lord and call upon his name;
make his deeds known among the peoples; * see that they remember that his name is exalted.
Sing the praises of the Lord, for he has done great things, * and this is known in all the world.
Cry aloud, inhabitants of Zion, ring out your joy, * for the great one in the midst of you is the Holy One of Israel. Amen
Readings: Isaiah 65:17-25; Canticle 3; 2 Thessalonians 3:6-13; Luke 21:5-19 These Sundays leading up to the end of the church year reflect our need to live our lives in expectancy. They call us to find grace in an apocalyptic age, an age that dwells on the end of time. They call us to deal with the ambiguity of living with uncertainty about the future. They call us to live authentically. It represents a classic theme in Scripture and a distinct view of history. But it is a theme that can create a culture of fear. Like the little hen, Henny Penny in the children’s story who thinks the sky is falling in, we can begin to see nothing but chaos, doom and gloom all around us. Or we can look for hope as we remember our continuing relationship with God, a God of grace and love.
That is the theme of today’s gospel. Jesus is speaking to the disciples. He tells them that the beautiful temple they see before them will not last. It is the same temple that was rebuilt at great price following the exile in Babylon. "What are the signs," they want to know.
Jesus paints a portrait of a world in great turmoil and conflict. "Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven." Jesus tells them that it will be a time of testing for the faithful. They will experience persecution, betrayal, hatred and even death.
Let’s face it! That is a frightening picture. It was frightening to the disciples. It was frightening to the early Christians as they struggled with the persecution they faced. Paul in writing to the people of Thessalonica is talking to those who are ready to give up. Fear of what the future may hold causes them to opt out of life. Why bother to work if it will all end tomorrow? They are unable or unwilling to live with that kind of uncertainty that often brings with it a sense of hopelessness and meaninglessness.
And how remarkably like our own time and place! We live in a broken world. We live in a world where there is never peace. War in the Middle East, the war against terrorism, tribal wars in the Sudan and other parts of Africa, conflict between Moslem and Christian, Moslem and Jew, Tamil and Senegalese. The list seems endless. On top of that, there is an increase in the destructive forces of nature; consider the destruction of Hurricane Matthew in Haiti. There is proof, even though many deny it, of global warming as the polar icecaps recede more and more. There are famines. There are plagues such as we have never encountered before like SARS and AIDS. There is poverty in the midst of plenty. There is violence. Many continue to question whether we live in the end times.
The people to whom Isaiah writes, a people in exile felt the same way. The Hebrew people might deserve to be rejected as a whole, but there are genuine committed people in the community. For their sake God’s promises will be fulfilled. It is an apocalyptic vision of a new heaven and a new earth. It will be a restoration of Paradise. God will be so near that the people will sense God’s presence everywhere.
Jesus too gives a message of great hope to the faithful. His answer to the disciples was remarkable when you think about it. He called them to persevere in the faith. He recognized that it was a time of terrible threat; yet it was too, as such times are, a time of deep rewards and rich promise.
“Do not be led astray!” Jesus reminds them. This may be a time of anxiety and uncertainty, but it is a time to keep your wits about you. It is a time to think for yourself, to use the reason that God has given you.
“Don’t go after the ones who would lead you astray,” he continues. Voices may tell you that the end is near. Don’t follow those voices. Follow God. Trust in the promises that God has made to you. Trust in the promises that God has continued to fulfill in you, God’s people.
Finally he tells them, “Don’t be terrified!” Don’t let fear stop you in your tracks! You may feel lost in a wilderness where there are a million questions and no answers. Continue to trust in God’s promises and live in hope.
It is not simply good advice to the disciples; it is also good advice to the early Christians. The early believers were persecuted and tried. Many were martyred for the faith. They needed Jesus’ words to help them live with courage and conviction. Their perseverance in the faith has meant over two thousand years of faithful witness and service.
It puts our own faith into perspective as well. It is not up to us to make claims about special knowledge when it comes to the signs of the end of time. It is up to us to remain faithful to the message of salvation and to be obedient to the teachings of Jesus. It is up to us to live out our lives in faith, being like Christ.
What frightens you most about the future of the Church? Some people fear that we have become irrelevant, that we need to change the way we worship and the way we approach God. Some think that we have deviated too far from Scripture. There are many who fear that we will allow issues like Same-Sex blessing to fracture our unity.
What worries you about the future of the world? Is it the apathy you see in people who care so little about the environment that they will throw their garbage wherever it lands? Is it terrorism, or child poverty, or the escalating violence in society? Dare I say it? Is it that a misogynistic, racist, sexist person got himself elected president of the United States?
Those words of Jesus continue to speak to us. “Don’t be led astray!” There are many voices out there that can lead us astray. I suspect that for many of us it is those nagging voices that tell us that there is nothing we can do to change what is going on. “Don’t go after those voices,” Jesus reminds us. Our call is to follow Jesus, to be like Christ, to seek Christ in those we encounter in our lives, to be Christ in the world. And especially “don’t be terrified!” That will just stop you from accomplishing anything.
So what if we stop wondering when the weeping will cease, and start to do something constructive about the state of the world? We are faced with terrible threat. And yet it is also a time of rich promise. We live with anxiety and uncertainty, but it is also a time of great rewards and benefits. Do we look forward to the coming of God’s reign?
Discipleship is not about waiting for God to do something; it is about anticipating God’s actions in the world. It is about being Christ in the world. It is about serving with compassion and mercy. What will you do today in anticipation of the fulfillment of God’s promises? It is ultimately up to each one of us. It begins with putting our trust in our loving God. It continues with living our lives faithfully and prayerfully. It means especially living out God’s promises in everything we do.
Because, you know, we live in a world that is full of God’s grace and love. That can be seen all around us. It is difficult to miss as we look at the beauty of the changing seasons. We see it in the smiling faces of children. We experience it as we come together as a community of faith.
So no, Henny Penny! The sky is not falling in! There is hope amidst the doom and gloom. Let us affirm that hope as we say together the words of the Canticle for this morning.
Isaiah 12.2–6
Surely, it is God who saves me; * I will trust in him and not be afraid.
For the Lord is my stronghold and my sure defence, * and he will be my Saviour.
Therefore you shall draw water with rejoicing * from the springs of salvation.
And on that day you shall say, * Give thanks to the Lord and call upon his name;
make his deeds known among the peoples; * see that they remember that his name is exalted.
Sing the praises of the Lord, for he has done great things, * and this is known in all the world.
Cry aloud, inhabitants of Zion, ring out your joy, * for the great one in the midst of you is the Holy One of Israel. Amen
Saturday, October 15, 2016
22nd Sunday after Pentecost, Year C, Proper 29
Finding a Voice
Readings: Jeremiah 31:27-34; Psalm 119:97-104; 2 Tim 3:14-4:5; Luke 18:1-8
No one who has suffered, who has been in pain, or who has watched a loved one die would deny the importance of a strong and resilient faith. What I have heard over the years of my ministry to those who are grieving, is how important their faith is to them at such a time. Simply being a Christian does not mean that life will be smooth sailing or free of problems. In fact the communities for which the passages of Scripture read today were written experienced terrible suffering. They were tempted to abandon hope, deny the faith and give up their vision of God’s way. But in each case their faith sustained them so that they were able to overcome their adversities. They learned that God may at times seem far away, but in reality God’s faithfulness persists. God is there on the journey every step of the way. They learned the need to persist, to continue to ask God to meet their needs, and to listen for God’s caring guidance on life’s journey.
The prophet Jeremiah continues to have great hope for the people of Israel, even though he has faced imprisonment and disaster. He believes God’s promise. He knows that God is not responsible for the terrible things that have happened, but he knows that it has meaning. That is his job as a prophet. The terrible things that they are experiencing are the result of choices that people have made. But they are not to lose heart. He knows that God is not abandoning the people of Israel. God continues to call them back into covenant and into new and intimate relationship.
And isn’t that something that we all need to remember throughout our lives? It may be the only thing that keeps us faithful when we become weary of praying, or feel as if God is far away and inaccessible. We all go through dry patches in our spiritual lives.
It certainly was an important learning for Timothy. We hear in the New Testament reading about a person encumbered with care for his community. His responsibilities have become a burden that often seems too much for him to bear. His preaching seems futile as people get “itching ears” and would rather follow teachers who will tell them what they want to hear rather than a faith fraught with difficulties and persecution. He is encouraged to hold fast to the truth and to continue to be guided by Scripture.
Our whole history as the people of God is about God’s faithfulness regardless of our disobedience and lack of faith. God will never be diverted from the path, a path that leads to justice, peace and grace. That is the gospel message!
What wonderful stories Jesus tells! His parables seem to turn the tables on all that is wrong in society. He tells a parable about two very different people. On the one hand, there is a judge, not a particularly good one, rather one who has power and influence. He embodies the establishment. And on the other hand, there is a woman, a widow, who embodies the marginal, the poor, the powerless. Because she is a widow, she is totally dependent for her livelihood on the men in the family. There are no jobs for a woman. There is no social assistance. Either she gets the help she needs from her husband’s relatives, or she begs on some street corner. She appears before the judge to ask his help in getting her rights. She is too poor to offer a bribe. So he ignores her. The Hebrew word for widow means “silent one, one unable to speak”. And yet she finds her voice. Something in her whether it be desperation or resiliance, keeps her going. She keeps demanding that justice be done. The judge makes excuses. He cannot be bothered with the widow. But she persists. Finally the judge is worn down and she wins her case.
The story of the widow is played out in our modern day world over and over again. Africa is a continent gripped by poverty, war, AIDS and diseases that in most of the world are totally preventable. They are not alone in their suffering. From every corner of the globe we hear the cries of women who suffer abuse simply because they are women.
Jesus tells the story to the disciples to remind them about their need to pray and to be persistent in the faith, but there is surely a much more important learning for us. This is a reminder that even when we feel powerless, we are called to make a stand alongside those who are truly powerless and disadvantaged. We are called to be the voice of the voiceless. Jesus will be right there standing in solidarity with us in every situation. Yet so often we do nothing because we think that what little we can do will not make a difference.
A woman was walking along a beach that was littered with dead and dying starfish. Periodically, she would stoop down, pick one up and toss it back into the ocean. A man was watching her and shouted, “There are thousands of starfish stranded on this beach. Your efforts won’t make a difference.” The strolling woman stooped and picked up one more starfish, tossed it back into the ocean and said, “It makes a difference to that one.”
She knew that she was powerless to reverse a dire situation, but she also knew that there were things she could change, no matter what anyone shouting at her thought. While we hear many stories of dire situations throughout our world, we hear too of amazing people who do what they can to bring positive change to the world. They are individuals who simply will not give up.
Who has not marvelled at the strength of Malala, the young Pakastani school girl, shot by the Taliban for her persistence in pursuing an education? That she recovered is a miracle. That she continues to speak out with such a strong voice is monumental. She has found her voice and it will not be silenced.
In 1998 I attended the Women’s Festival in Harare, Zimbabwe, celebrating the World Council of Churches Decade of the Churches in Solidarity with Women. I was there as a speaker, but I learned far more than I taught. Part of the experience was a woman to woman visit with a family in another part of Africa. I stayed with a family in one of the townships in South Africa. As part of the experience I visited two women who had founded a collective. They were widowed very young and found themselves in desperate circumstances. The one thing they knew how to do was bead work. They set up a small business in their village and began to make lovely jewellery. They found a buyer and soon began to find that they could not keep up with the demand for their product. They hired other women in the village, rented a derelict building and got down to work. The building was quite large. They diversified, and got some other people in the town to do tie dyed scarves and other lovely articles of clothing. They noted that there were still many people in the village without work. They began to do their own contracting to sell their products. They were able to hire more people. Eventually they began to bid for government contracts to do road work. What began as a way of providing for their own needs became the means of providing for a whole village. They are amazing women who found their voice.
Our First Nations people are beginning to find their voices. They need our support. They need us to learn their history so that we can understand the systemic nature of the abuse that caused their current circumstances. Our Canadian history is a sad one about broken treaties, about depriving people of their human rights, about causing disease and hardship, about taking away a rich cultural heritage. They continue to suffer. Homelessness, lack of affordable housing, health care issues, violence against women, child poverty – these things are a National disgrace. A First Nations woman up at Curve Lake said to me, “You know, it took seven generations to get us into this cyclical mess. It will take seven generations for us to find our way back.
But they are doing exactly that. This community took part in an appeal for clean water for Pikangikum a few years back. I read an article this week about their new school, finally completed ten years after the old school was destroyed in a fire. There are also talks about finally giving equal funding to First Nations schools who at the moment receive thirty percent less than those funded by the provinces. Our First Nations people are beginning to find their voices. Thankfully the Anglican Church is part of that change.
Many in our world are hoping for peace and justice. It must seem for them a long time in coming. There is Jeremiah’s voice, reminding us of that God of love whom we worship, calling out across the ages, “The days are surely coming! I will sow with the seed of humans and the seed of animals.” What a wonderfully hopeful word ‘sow’ is! It speaks of future hope and possibility. It speaks of nurture and growth. It speaks of change brought about by justice. It speaks of a world where God reigns. And there too is the widow, her nagging voice calling out for justice, for redressing the wrongs of the past. How can we fail to hear such a voice? Let us join in her call for justice. Let us persist in the faith, knowing that God is constantly showing us new and just ways to live.
Readings: Jeremiah 31:27-34; Psalm 119:97-104; 2 Tim 3:14-4:5; Luke 18:1-8
No one who has suffered, who has been in pain, or who has watched a loved one die would deny the importance of a strong and resilient faith. What I have heard over the years of my ministry to those who are grieving, is how important their faith is to them at such a time. Simply being a Christian does not mean that life will be smooth sailing or free of problems. In fact the communities for which the passages of Scripture read today were written experienced terrible suffering. They were tempted to abandon hope, deny the faith and give up their vision of God’s way. But in each case their faith sustained them so that they were able to overcome their adversities. They learned that God may at times seem far away, but in reality God’s faithfulness persists. God is there on the journey every step of the way. They learned the need to persist, to continue to ask God to meet their needs, and to listen for God’s caring guidance on life’s journey.
The prophet Jeremiah continues to have great hope for the people of Israel, even though he has faced imprisonment and disaster. He believes God’s promise. He knows that God is not responsible for the terrible things that have happened, but he knows that it has meaning. That is his job as a prophet. The terrible things that they are experiencing are the result of choices that people have made. But they are not to lose heart. He knows that God is not abandoning the people of Israel. God continues to call them back into covenant and into new and intimate relationship.
And isn’t that something that we all need to remember throughout our lives? It may be the only thing that keeps us faithful when we become weary of praying, or feel as if God is far away and inaccessible. We all go through dry patches in our spiritual lives.
It certainly was an important learning for Timothy. We hear in the New Testament reading about a person encumbered with care for his community. His responsibilities have become a burden that often seems too much for him to bear. His preaching seems futile as people get “itching ears” and would rather follow teachers who will tell them what they want to hear rather than a faith fraught with difficulties and persecution. He is encouraged to hold fast to the truth and to continue to be guided by Scripture.
Our whole history as the people of God is about God’s faithfulness regardless of our disobedience and lack of faith. God will never be diverted from the path, a path that leads to justice, peace and grace. That is the gospel message!
What wonderful stories Jesus tells! His parables seem to turn the tables on all that is wrong in society. He tells a parable about two very different people. On the one hand, there is a judge, not a particularly good one, rather one who has power and influence. He embodies the establishment. And on the other hand, there is a woman, a widow, who embodies the marginal, the poor, the powerless. Because she is a widow, she is totally dependent for her livelihood on the men in the family. There are no jobs for a woman. There is no social assistance. Either she gets the help she needs from her husband’s relatives, or she begs on some street corner. She appears before the judge to ask his help in getting her rights. She is too poor to offer a bribe. So he ignores her. The Hebrew word for widow means “silent one, one unable to speak”. And yet she finds her voice. Something in her whether it be desperation or resiliance, keeps her going. She keeps demanding that justice be done. The judge makes excuses. He cannot be bothered with the widow. But she persists. Finally the judge is worn down and she wins her case.
The story of the widow is played out in our modern day world over and over again. Africa is a continent gripped by poverty, war, AIDS and diseases that in most of the world are totally preventable. They are not alone in their suffering. From every corner of the globe we hear the cries of women who suffer abuse simply because they are women.
Jesus tells the story to the disciples to remind them about their need to pray and to be persistent in the faith, but there is surely a much more important learning for us. This is a reminder that even when we feel powerless, we are called to make a stand alongside those who are truly powerless and disadvantaged. We are called to be the voice of the voiceless. Jesus will be right there standing in solidarity with us in every situation. Yet so often we do nothing because we think that what little we can do will not make a difference.
A woman was walking along a beach that was littered with dead and dying starfish. Periodically, she would stoop down, pick one up and toss it back into the ocean. A man was watching her and shouted, “There are thousands of starfish stranded on this beach. Your efforts won’t make a difference.” The strolling woman stooped and picked up one more starfish, tossed it back into the ocean and said, “It makes a difference to that one.”
She knew that she was powerless to reverse a dire situation, but she also knew that there were things she could change, no matter what anyone shouting at her thought. While we hear many stories of dire situations throughout our world, we hear too of amazing people who do what they can to bring positive change to the world. They are individuals who simply will not give up.
Who has not marvelled at the strength of Malala, the young Pakastani school girl, shot by the Taliban for her persistence in pursuing an education? That she recovered is a miracle. That she continues to speak out with such a strong voice is monumental. She has found her voice and it will not be silenced.
In 1998 I attended the Women’s Festival in Harare, Zimbabwe, celebrating the World Council of Churches Decade of the Churches in Solidarity with Women. I was there as a speaker, but I learned far more than I taught. Part of the experience was a woman to woman visit with a family in another part of Africa. I stayed with a family in one of the townships in South Africa. As part of the experience I visited two women who had founded a collective. They were widowed very young and found themselves in desperate circumstances. The one thing they knew how to do was bead work. They set up a small business in their village and began to make lovely jewellery. They found a buyer and soon began to find that they could not keep up with the demand for their product. They hired other women in the village, rented a derelict building and got down to work. The building was quite large. They diversified, and got some other people in the town to do tie dyed scarves and other lovely articles of clothing. They noted that there were still many people in the village without work. They began to do their own contracting to sell their products. They were able to hire more people. Eventually they began to bid for government contracts to do road work. What began as a way of providing for their own needs became the means of providing for a whole village. They are amazing women who found their voice.
Our First Nations people are beginning to find their voices. They need our support. They need us to learn their history so that we can understand the systemic nature of the abuse that caused their current circumstances. Our Canadian history is a sad one about broken treaties, about depriving people of their human rights, about causing disease and hardship, about taking away a rich cultural heritage. They continue to suffer. Homelessness, lack of affordable housing, health care issues, violence against women, child poverty – these things are a National disgrace. A First Nations woman up at Curve Lake said to me, “You know, it took seven generations to get us into this cyclical mess. It will take seven generations for us to find our way back.
But they are doing exactly that. This community took part in an appeal for clean water for Pikangikum a few years back. I read an article this week about their new school, finally completed ten years after the old school was destroyed in a fire. There are also talks about finally giving equal funding to First Nations schools who at the moment receive thirty percent less than those funded by the provinces. Our First Nations people are beginning to find their voices. Thankfully the Anglican Church is part of that change.
Many in our world are hoping for peace and justice. It must seem for them a long time in coming. There is Jeremiah’s voice, reminding us of that God of love whom we worship, calling out across the ages, “The days are surely coming! I will sow with the seed of humans and the seed of animals.” What a wonderfully hopeful word ‘sow’ is! It speaks of future hope and possibility. It speaks of nurture and growth. It speaks of change brought about by justice. It speaks of a world where God reigns. And there too is the widow, her nagging voice calling out for justice, for redressing the wrongs of the past. How can we fail to hear such a voice? Let us join in her call for justice. Let us persist in the faith, knowing that God is constantly showing us new and just ways to live.
Saturday, October 8, 2016
Harvest Thanksgiving Year C
The Lord Make Us Truly Thankful
Readings: Deuteronomy 26:1-11; Psalm 100; Philippians 4:4-9; John 6:25-35
North American Thanksgiving looks much the same on either side of the border. It is a family time as people come together to over indulge in turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy and pumpkin pie. We may even remember to say grace as we consider the bounty on the table.
And somehow most Canadians seem to have adopted the myth that the first Thanksgiving dates back to Plymouth Rock. In reality, we have an older tradition in Canada dating back some forty years prior to the American story. Furthermore, our story does not have the same association with tragedy. It also comes with an Anglican twist.
On 22 July 1578 the Rev. Robert Wolfall, chaplain to the third Frobisher expedition, celebrated the Eucharist on board the ship “Judith”. The ship’s captain Edward Fenton noted in his journal: “Tewsdaie, the xxiiith daie: we did receave the Communion altogether, contynewing that daie in prayer and thanks giving to god.” The Calendar for the Book of Alternative Services commemorates the “First Anglican Eucharist in Canada, 1578” on the 4th of September.
For All the Saints concludes its description of this event saying: “Frobisher decided to give up the idea of establishing a permanent settlement on Baffin Island and took the entire fleet back to England in mid-September. Almost a century would pass before the Anglicans again celebrated the Eucharist on Canadian soil”.
Apparently following Eucharist they ate a rather humble meal of salt beef, rock-hard crackers and mushy peas. That is what they had in their larder for the first Thanksgiving on what would become Canadian soil. I doubt that it would ever have taken hold as Thanksgiving fare.
For our First Nations people, the idea of celebrating Thanksgiving on one particular day is ludicrous. The giving of thanks they can understand. In their culture, they give thanks to the Creator every day. After picking berries or hunting they offer tobacco and give thanks for the sacrifice. They give thanks for clean air to breathe, for clean water to drink, for good health.
Our Celtic forebears had a similar worldview. Their prayers accompanied the thoughts and actions of each day as they went about their daily tasks, continuously acknowledging the God of all creation.
The notion that we in North America invented Thanksgiving is ludicrous. In reality Thanksgiving ceremonies go back to the beginning of time. The earliest rituals deal with the gathering of the community to eat together and to give thanks to the creator.
That is the setting for the passage from today’s Old Testament reading. The passage from Deuteronomy gives instructions for the festival of the first fruits, an ancient Hebrew Thanksgiving celebration. It is one that still goes on today.
I lived for a time in a part of North York that is predominantly Jewish. I was startled my first year there during the fall when my neighbours turned their patio into something that resembled a tree house. It seemed to be a fairly permanent structure. They decorated it lavishly with plants and dried leaves. I finally got up the courage to ask what they were up to. They explained that for a week they would be celebrating Sukkot, the harvest. I was invited to a sumptuous feast that took place on the patio. During the course of the evening, they retold the story, much as we read it in Deuteronomy today.
Repeating the words about wandering in the desert, and about God providing manna for them to eat, they thanked God for all the gifts they had received. "God," they said, "has heard our prayers. God has brought us to this rich and fertile country. God has saved us from oppression and want." They praised the God of history who has been with them through the ages, providing them with spiritual sustenance. And remembering what it was like to be a stranger in a strange land, they offered hospitality to those, like myself, whom they had invited to share in the festivities.
I was touched by how much the recalling of the story meant to that Jewish family. Centuries later, in a different time and space, they still recount the wanderings in the wilderness. They remember it, not as a time of bitterness, but as a time of closeness to God, of intimacy. It is the golden age of their innocency. It calls them to return to the ancient, simple and loyal faith. It gives them opportunity to reflect that everything they have is an inheritance from God. Everything belongs to God and is given freely for their use.
And that calls them, in turn, to open up their hearts to those in need. There is a sense of cooperation between God and them. God will continue to provide. They will continue to help others.
I suspect that to be truly thankful for what we have we need that sense of history. We need a story that draws us together as community. Our Christian story is certainly such a one. We come together as community. We give thanks. We break bread. We share together. We ask ourselves how we too can share fresh bread with others. At the heart of what we do at worship together, bread and wine are taken and blessed. They are the fruit of the earth. God's promises have again been fulfilled. Seedtime and harvest go on producing food for us.
The bread and wine are products of our hands. People make that bread and produce that wine. In bringing food and drink as an offering to God we are enacting the deepest facet of human experience. We are acknowledging our dependence upon the Creator and Sustainer of all things. We are putting our trust in God and thanking our Creator for all that we have.
Yet we can easily lose sight of the ordinariness of the food and drink we offer. We can become mesmerized by them. We can be taken up by the words and the actions. We can bury our heads in our prayer books and fail to know and understand our obligation as we break bread. Our obligation is to the poor, to the disenfranchised, to those who suffer, to the alien, to the stranger in our midst.
We know well that obligation. Yet it is very easy to pass it off, to expect that social agencies should deal with hunger. Yet clearly, the gospel message points out our obligation to be good stewards of all that God has created and to share our bounty with those who are in need.
Today's gospel is no exception. Jesus continues to provide for those in need. He continues to offer bread for hungry people. Jesus is being hounded, much like a modern rock star. He has fed five thousand people. The crowds find him. He tries to explain that their reasons for seeking him out are the wrong ones. The bread and fish he gave them will not solve their problems. They will get hungry again. “But my way of living!” he is saying, “That can change everything!”
There is much hunger in our world, and it isn’t all about food. Many hunger for love, acceptance, life and truth. The North American way of life is to try to satisfy our hungers in material ways. We come to services to give thanks for such things. I hope that today we will go away filled with what our true thanksgiving is. I hope we will go away thinking about what we can contribute.
We live in an age of spectaculars and extravaganzas with glitter and glamour, and yet some of the most splendid moments are quite common and simple – a glass of cold water when you are hot and thirsty, a kind word, an embrace or a touch given with sincerity. These are the things that really matter. No act of love is so small that it is insignificant. This Thanksgiving can we be satisfied with smaller things?
In the world there are many who are hungry. There are many who are in exile. There are many who are so caught up in despair that they can think of no justifiable reason to give thanks. As Christians we need to be aware of them all, and to address their physical needs as generously and bountifully as Jesus did when he fed the five thousand. We also need to celebrate the God who gives us much to be thankful for, even in the midst of a broken world.
When Jesus becomes the Bread of Life for us, we become bread to others about us. This becomes our purpose in life and gives present, perpetual and eternal meaning to life. It gives real reason to give thanks. Amen.
Readings: Deuteronomy 26:1-11; Psalm 100; Philippians 4:4-9; John 6:25-35
North American Thanksgiving looks much the same on either side of the border. It is a family time as people come together to over indulge in turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy and pumpkin pie. We may even remember to say grace as we consider the bounty on the table.
And somehow most Canadians seem to have adopted the myth that the first Thanksgiving dates back to Plymouth Rock. In reality, we have an older tradition in Canada dating back some forty years prior to the American story. Furthermore, our story does not have the same association with tragedy. It also comes with an Anglican twist.
On 22 July 1578 the Rev. Robert Wolfall, chaplain to the third Frobisher expedition, celebrated the Eucharist on board the ship “Judith”. The ship’s captain Edward Fenton noted in his journal: “Tewsdaie, the xxiiith daie: we did receave the Communion altogether, contynewing that daie in prayer and thanks giving to god.” The Calendar for the Book of Alternative Services commemorates the “First Anglican Eucharist in Canada, 1578” on the 4th of September.
For All the Saints concludes its description of this event saying: “Frobisher decided to give up the idea of establishing a permanent settlement on Baffin Island and took the entire fleet back to England in mid-September. Almost a century would pass before the Anglicans again celebrated the Eucharist on Canadian soil”.
Apparently following Eucharist they ate a rather humble meal of salt beef, rock-hard crackers and mushy peas. That is what they had in their larder for the first Thanksgiving on what would become Canadian soil. I doubt that it would ever have taken hold as Thanksgiving fare.
For our First Nations people, the idea of celebrating Thanksgiving on one particular day is ludicrous. The giving of thanks they can understand. In their culture, they give thanks to the Creator every day. After picking berries or hunting they offer tobacco and give thanks for the sacrifice. They give thanks for clean air to breathe, for clean water to drink, for good health.
Our Celtic forebears had a similar worldview. Their prayers accompanied the thoughts and actions of each day as they went about their daily tasks, continuously acknowledging the God of all creation.
The notion that we in North America invented Thanksgiving is ludicrous. In reality Thanksgiving ceremonies go back to the beginning of time. The earliest rituals deal with the gathering of the community to eat together and to give thanks to the creator.
That is the setting for the passage from today’s Old Testament reading. The passage from Deuteronomy gives instructions for the festival of the first fruits, an ancient Hebrew Thanksgiving celebration. It is one that still goes on today.
I lived for a time in a part of North York that is predominantly Jewish. I was startled my first year there during the fall when my neighbours turned their patio into something that resembled a tree house. It seemed to be a fairly permanent structure. They decorated it lavishly with plants and dried leaves. I finally got up the courage to ask what they were up to. They explained that for a week they would be celebrating Sukkot, the harvest. I was invited to a sumptuous feast that took place on the patio. During the course of the evening, they retold the story, much as we read it in Deuteronomy today.
Repeating the words about wandering in the desert, and about God providing manna for them to eat, they thanked God for all the gifts they had received. "God," they said, "has heard our prayers. God has brought us to this rich and fertile country. God has saved us from oppression and want." They praised the God of history who has been with them through the ages, providing them with spiritual sustenance. And remembering what it was like to be a stranger in a strange land, they offered hospitality to those, like myself, whom they had invited to share in the festivities.
I was touched by how much the recalling of the story meant to that Jewish family. Centuries later, in a different time and space, they still recount the wanderings in the wilderness. They remember it, not as a time of bitterness, but as a time of closeness to God, of intimacy. It is the golden age of their innocency. It calls them to return to the ancient, simple and loyal faith. It gives them opportunity to reflect that everything they have is an inheritance from God. Everything belongs to God and is given freely for their use.
And that calls them, in turn, to open up their hearts to those in need. There is a sense of cooperation between God and them. God will continue to provide. They will continue to help others.
I suspect that to be truly thankful for what we have we need that sense of history. We need a story that draws us together as community. Our Christian story is certainly such a one. We come together as community. We give thanks. We break bread. We share together. We ask ourselves how we too can share fresh bread with others. At the heart of what we do at worship together, bread and wine are taken and blessed. They are the fruit of the earth. God's promises have again been fulfilled. Seedtime and harvest go on producing food for us.
The bread and wine are products of our hands. People make that bread and produce that wine. In bringing food and drink as an offering to God we are enacting the deepest facet of human experience. We are acknowledging our dependence upon the Creator and Sustainer of all things. We are putting our trust in God and thanking our Creator for all that we have.
Yet we can easily lose sight of the ordinariness of the food and drink we offer. We can become mesmerized by them. We can be taken up by the words and the actions. We can bury our heads in our prayer books and fail to know and understand our obligation as we break bread. Our obligation is to the poor, to the disenfranchised, to those who suffer, to the alien, to the stranger in our midst.
We know well that obligation. Yet it is very easy to pass it off, to expect that social agencies should deal with hunger. Yet clearly, the gospel message points out our obligation to be good stewards of all that God has created and to share our bounty with those who are in need.
Today's gospel is no exception. Jesus continues to provide for those in need. He continues to offer bread for hungry people. Jesus is being hounded, much like a modern rock star. He has fed five thousand people. The crowds find him. He tries to explain that their reasons for seeking him out are the wrong ones. The bread and fish he gave them will not solve their problems. They will get hungry again. “But my way of living!” he is saying, “That can change everything!”
There is much hunger in our world, and it isn’t all about food. Many hunger for love, acceptance, life and truth. The North American way of life is to try to satisfy our hungers in material ways. We come to services to give thanks for such things. I hope that today we will go away filled with what our true thanksgiving is. I hope we will go away thinking about what we can contribute.
We live in an age of spectaculars and extravaganzas with glitter and glamour, and yet some of the most splendid moments are quite common and simple – a glass of cold water when you are hot and thirsty, a kind word, an embrace or a touch given with sincerity. These are the things that really matter. No act of love is so small that it is insignificant. This Thanksgiving can we be satisfied with smaller things?
In the world there are many who are hungry. There are many who are in exile. There are many who are so caught up in despair that they can think of no justifiable reason to give thanks. As Christians we need to be aware of them all, and to address their physical needs as generously and bountifully as Jesus did when he fed the five thousand. We also need to celebrate the God who gives us much to be thankful for, even in the midst of a broken world.
When Jesus becomes the Bread of Life for us, we become bread to others about us. This becomes our purpose in life and gives present, perpetual and eternal meaning to life. It gives real reason to give thanks. Amen.
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