Epiphany 5B February 5, 2012  “The Voices at the Table”

Scripture:  Isaiah 40: 27-31  Psalm 91  I Corinthians 9: 16-34  Mark 1: 29-39

Kay Northcutt tells a story of her god-daughter, Amanda Madigan-- Amanda, who at the grand old age of 5 years played the violin in worship for the very first time.  As Amanda returned to her seat after playing All Creatures of Our God and King, her mother noticed she was trembling.  She asked Amanda if she was nervous. Amanda replied, “No, Momma, this is not nervous, this is God.”  Her mother asked one question after another trying to understand this trembling experience that her young daughter had described.  Finally, Amanda drew herself up to full height, looked her mother in the eye, and said, “Momma!  There are no words.”

“Momma, There are no words.”   Yet here were are at the beginning of the 21^st century in the United Church of Canada of ours, once again trying to form words around our collective traditions, knowledge, understanding, and experience of that holy mystery whom we call God. 

I sat around a luncheon table the other day with some colleagues who are part of the South Eglinton Network of Churches.  My Anglican counterpart up the street was astonished that The United Church of Canada would go to the people of our congregations in making decisions around matters of doctrine.  In the Anglican Church, he told us, such decisions come from the top.  They are handed down to the congregations for their spiritual guidance, instruction and sustenance.  In the Anglican church there are certain creedal words that must be repeated, every week, in every service of worship. It’s church law. It’s expected.  And it’s done. 

But, “Momma, declared Amanda, “There are no words!”  And still we struggle, and struggle mightily to put words around the holy mystery that is God; to define just who this Jesus of Nazareth AKA ‘The Risen Christ’ is and is for us; and to comprehend the work of the One we name as Holy Spirit.  We struggle to discern how we as individual Christians and a church community are to live out our faith, as one faith tradition among many in the world. So it is that from time to time, a group of people within the church are called upon to make yet another effort to create a document that both carries forward the best of our traditions and summarizes our current best thoughts and intuitions about these things. This is the way of the Reform Tradition of which we are a part.  The last time this happened in the United Church of Canada was just six years ago, in 2006, when a group of faithful individuals were commissioned by the United Church of Canada to create a new statement of faith for our denomination.  The result was a document known as The Song of Faith. 

In contrast to the succinct 21 lines of A New Creed, written in 1960’s and twice revised, The Song of Faith is well over 250 lines. It is expansive, inclusive, and beautifully poetic in form.

We read and sang portions of the Song of Faith printed in your order of service today.  The, Call to Worship and Opening Prayer, the Confession and Assurance, and in the hymn entitled, “Song of Faith” which was woven through, were all lifted from that faith statement. 

Take your order of service home today and reflect on the words you find there.  Do they ring true to your understanding and experience of God?  Are these words that we can share as a people of faith?  Do they, as last week’s sermon insisted, “Build Love Up?”  Do you think these words should be included as part of the official doctrine of the United Church of Canada? 

There are copies of a handout on the credenza at the back of the pews that include: The 22 Articles of The Basis of Union, The 1940 UCC Statement of Faith; The New Creed, and The Song of Faith.  The Original Basis of Union, our founding Statement of Faith, is currently the only Statement of Faith recognized as official doctrine within our denomination.

This week I have added a handout that outlines the process we have been asked to follow as a congregation, It also includes questions to ponder as we prepare to recommend to Executive Council how we wish them to vote on the Three Remits that will go to General Council this August.  We will be meeting together to discuss these things during our Sunday Conversations on February 19 following worship, and perhaps again in March. 

This request coming from the General Council, of course, begs the question:  “Why should we spend our precious time and energy in this way?”  “What might be the benefit to us personally?”  What might be the benefit to the church? Does it really matter what we believe? 

Talk about it at coffee hour today.  What do you think?  Meanwhile, I would like to offer a few brief stories... as food for thought.  By the time coffee hour rolls around, you may have some stories of your own to share!

I knew a young woman once who often fell into despair.  You see she had read her Bible and had heard the preacher preach that we are called to be perfect.  She was not perfect.  No matter how hard she prayed, or how hard she tried, she always managed to disappoint herself.  After a while, it became so discouraging that when she looked in the mirror, she began to look at herself with hatred, with anger, and with rage.  She went to a chaplain and confessed her sins.  He looked at her sadly and offered no word of comfort.  It mattered that she believed that she was called to be perfect.  It turned her inward.  It crippled her spirit, it compromised her relationships, and it robbed her from any sense of Divine presence in her life.  It matters what we teach and preach and live as a church. 

When I was studying for ministry, I did some itinerate preaching, filling in for ministers on holidays or sick leave.  There was a couple, two young woman deeply in love with one another, who would follow me from church to church.  One had come from a Christian church which refused to  affirm her sexual orientation as a gift from God.  She had been active in her church all of her life and had many friends there.  It broke her heart when she found herself and her partner ostracized from those who had provided a spiritual home for her for her whole life.  It mattered deeply what her church believed and taught about God and sexual orientation.   

Recently, I organized a Presbytery event.  We were welcomed by the Muslim President of the Noor Cultural Center.  She gathered us in prayer, spoken first in her own language and then in ours, and then shared with us the history and vision of the Noor Islamic Centre.  Over the course of the evening we heard prayers and reflections from a United Church Minister, a Jewish Rabbi, and a Muslim Imam.  They had been part of a 60 person interfaith pilgrimage to Israel and the Palestinian Territories. They had committed themselves to seeing and experiencing the sacred sites, and the realities they encountered on the ground, through one another’s eyes.  The fact that they had come together in this way was an amazing witness to many of those they met while there.  They themselves came home profoundly challenged and changed—not so sure of their old opinions on Israel.  It mattered that they were willing not only to acknowledge, but also to recognize and experience the presence of the Divine through one another’s traditions, cultures, and history.  It mattered what they believed about God and one another.    

What we believe, as individuals, as churches, and as a culture has a profound effect on all of our lives.   What we teach our children about themselves, one another, others, and about the Divine matters deeply.  These things form our character and identity.  These things form a basis for how we see ourselves, one another, and the wider world.  These things offer us a foundation from which we can draw when we are making decisions, both large and small about our lives. 

Much as it may not make the list of top ten favourite activities, perhaps taking the time, from time to time, to take a closer look at what we truly believe is not such a bad idea.  Perhaps taking the time, from time to time, to talk to one another about matters of faith has the potential to make a difference in the quality of our lives, and of our witness.

The apostle Paul in his letter to the Corinthians refers to the good news with which he has been entrusted, the good news he is bound to share with everyone and anyone in any way he can. 

If it is true that this selfsame good news is given to us in our day as a sacred trust, both to inform our lives and to share with those around us, perhaps it is worthy of some careful  prayerful reflection on our part.

While it may be true, as young Amanda says, that “there are no words” to truly express a profound encounter with the Divine. It is also true that amongst us humans, faith continually seeks understanding, and so do we.    

 

*Story taken from, Kay L. Northcutt, Kindling Desire for God, Fortress Press, Minneapolis, Minn.  2009. Pg. 125.

 

 

Epiphany 1B   January 15, 2012 “Baptized and Blessed”

Scripture:  Genesis 1:1-5    Psalm 29   Mark 1:4-11    

In the beginning God created.  And when God had finished the work of creation, God looked around and saw all that had been made, and God saw that it was very good.  So begins our story through the lens of a faith that has been handed down to us generation after generation for thousands of years. In the beginning, God created.  And when God had finished and looked around and beheld all that had been made… God said that it was good. 

And so it is for us.  We look around at God’s creation and we know that it is good—more than that-- it is astonishing. When we grant ourselves the luxury of time to simply stand and soak it all in, the goodness of God’s creation settles into us, and heals us, and we know that what we have been given to enjoy and to care for is so profoundly magnificent… that we cannot help but shout with the Psalmist, even if that shout is in the silence of our hearts, “Glory!”    

It is a deeply humbling experience to stand before the grandeur of the world… It is even more deeply humbling to contemplate the nature of the One who is Source and sustainer of it all. In such moments we can suddenly feel very small…. And yet at the same time, we sometimes sense we are also part of something that is incredibly grand— that we are profoundly interconnected with all that is, that all our divisions and separations are merely illusions—illusions that prevent us from knowing the kind of communion with God, with one other, and with the created world that we are meant to enjoy.  

On Friday night, Michael and I watched, “Harry’s Law” on TV.  Harry represents a woman arguing for the freedom of a great ape who has escaped from a local zoo. The woman has taken the ape under protection, hoping that the courts might rule that the ape is human, and therefore cannot be held as property.  There are moving moments when the depths of connection between the ape and the young woman are clearly visible. In the end, the judge rules, that the law is the law, that apes are not human, and as such can be owned; and further, that this particular ape is the property of a particular zoo, which is responsible for its care.  The ape, who communicates using American sign-language, is returned to its cage at the Cincinnati Good Fellow’s Zoo.  As the young woman is saying a tearful goodbye along with a vow to fight for his release, this great ape signs to her that he misses her.  Tears flow from his eyes. 

From the beginning of time, it seems that human beings have been prone to disconnection, to division, to separation.  We work against nature, against time, against one another-- striving for what??  Well, I suppose our motivations are as varied as we are, but basically I would hazard a guess that most of us are looking to create ‘the good life’ for ourselves and for those we love.  There is, of course, nothing wrong with that, except that in our striving our focus tends to narrow so that we lose sight of others and the good life they too are seeking to live.  In our striving, fail to take into account the damage we inflict upon the earth and the good life it is seeking to sustain.  The consequences of this short-sighted, and self-centred striving is evident every where we look, in the poverty, war, and devastation that racks so many of our world’s peoples; and in the pollution of our air, water, and land. 

This is, of course, nothing new. Perhaps this is the challenge that all the great religions at their core lay before us, the challenge both to see and live out of our essential unity with one another and with the world, and to recognize and respect our radical interdependence even in the face of our incredible diversity.

In this morning’s gospel reading, John the Baptist echoes Isaiah’s ancient call to ‘prepare the way of the Lord.’  From the time of Isaiah until today, this call to prepare for the coming of God into our lives has involved repentance, or a turning around.  We are called to repentance for our willfulness against God’s claim on our lives, repentance for our determination to go our own way regardless of the consequences, repentance for making idols of our families, careers, pleasures, and our possessions; repentance for all too often losing sight of the needs of our neighbours and the vulnerability of creation.

The humbling of oneself in repentance, the turning around towards God, the wider face of humanity, and the wonder of creation, is an entranceway, an open sesame, into experiencing love, goodness, grace, and forgiveness.  It ushers us into a new way of seeing and understanding God, ourselves and our neighbour; and it instills in us a desire to respond in meaningful ways to those outside of our own inner circle.    

We read in scripture that once Jesus is baptized with John’s baptism of repentance, he is blessed and pronounced the beloved of God.  He is immediately driven into the wilderness by the Spirit to be tested so that he might be clear about his purpose within his ministry.  There ensues a time of profound challenge and change for him, a letting go of his past, and an embracing of his call to be the face of God’s self-giving love to all who would know and follow him. 

Author, Parker Palmer writes:  “Our deepest calling is to grow into our own authentic selfhood, whether or not it conforms to some image of who we ought to be.  As we do so, we will not only find the joy that every human being seeks—we will also find our path of authentic service in the world.  True vocation joins self and service.” Parker quotes  Frederick Buechner’s definition of vocation as “the place where your deep gladness meets the world’s deep need.”  Then he observes, “Buechner’s definition starts with the self and moves towards the needs of the world:  it begins, wisely, where vocation begins—not in what the world needs (which is everything), but in the nature of the human self, in what brings the self joy, the deep joy of knowing that we are here on earth to be the gifts that God created.” 

As with Jesus, so with us, God calls and claims us so that we can be nurtured into the life and work that God intends for us, the life and work that God has prepared for us and prepares us for.  Our task is to pay attention to the Spirit’s intimations, to muster up our courage, and to respond!  Sometimes we will be asked to change. Sometimes we will simply be asked to change direction!  The reality is that we won’t always get it right, and there may be times when we will feel the fool.  Perhaps that too is a necessary part of the journey.  Still, the God who hovers over the face of the deep and speaks light and life into being, also longs to speak light and life into each one of us, so that we might truly know ourselves as part and parcel of the unfolding of this wondrous creation God has wrought.

Palker Palmer, Let Your Life Speak, John Wiley & Sons | September 1999.

 

 

Epiphany 2012 January 8, 2012  “The Coventry Carol”

Scripture:  Isaiah 60:1-6  Psalm 72:1-7, 10-14  Matthew 2:1-12   

In our early plans for Christmas Eve we had included the singing of the Coventry Carol by three of our members.  In the end, we decided to let it go.  It isn’t really a Christmas Carol, I said.  It’s meant to represent the lullabies sung by the mothers of Bethlehem before the heartless slaughter of their young sons by Herod’s soldiers.  All of this sorrow because of a visit to Herod by so called ‘wise men from the east’ in search of a new king.   It’s such a sweet sounding song… until the words slip into your consciousness… and suddenly you realize that what you are listening to is the lament of hearts being rent asunder.   

 

Lullay, Thou little tiny Child,
By, by, lully, lullay.
Lullay, Thou little tiny Child.
By, by, lully, lullay.

 

O sisters, too, how may we do,
For to preserve this day;
This poor Youngling for whom we sing,
By, by, lully, lullay.

 

Herod the King, in his raging,
Charged he hath this day;
His men of might, in his own sight,
All children young, to slay.

 

Then woe is me, poor Child, for Thee,
And ever mourn and say;
For Thy parting, nor say nor sing,
By, by, lully, lullay.

 

Now the children slaughtered by Herod were not unique to their day.  Nor are they to ours. In every time and place there have been those who have set in motion the raging Herods of their own day. Children and their mothers and fathers—children and their grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles, children and their friends and neighbours are mercilessly slaughtered by the mighty-- jealous to maintain their pride and power, their status and influence, and their wealth and presumed superiority.  And all too often, the world stands by in horror, and unwilling or seemingly unable to stop the killing.  And so the singing of lament continues to colour our world in shades of sorrow… so it has been, so it seems, it shall be.  And so it has been, and so it shall be that there are those who look for a deliverer—someone who will save us from all manner of the terrible injustices that take place across the face of the earth.  There are those who search earnestly for someone who will create a new world order characterized by justice, and prosperity, and peace—a new world order where everyone will have what they need not just to survive, but to thrive, and to truly take joy in their lives.  Perhaps that was what those wise men were in search of as they followed that ancient star.  

 

Certainly, these are the desires expressed clearly in this morning’s psalm where we read:  “Give your king your justice, O God, and your righteousness to the king’s son; that he may rule your people righteously and the poor with justice; that the mountains may bring prosperity to the people, and the little hills bring righteousness.  He shall defend the needy among the people and shall rescue the poor and crush the oppressor… he shall have pity on the lowly and poor and shall preserve the lives of the needy.  He shall redeem their lives from oppression and violence, and dear shall their blood be in his sight.”

 

We hear these same yearnings in people’s hearts as we listen to the messages from the various occupy movements in the west, as well as the string of uprisings in the Arab world over the past year.  We hear them in the annual reporting by the Toronto Star of the top 1% of Canadian earners… and the underlying message that a few people are getting far more than their share, while at the same time far too many people needlessly suffer from want. 

 

Still, although the direction of the yearning is very much the same, it seems there has been a shift.  It seems to me that there is a deep disillusionment with the very idea that great individual leaders will be able to deliver the kinds of changes that people are yearning for, and the kinds of changes that will be required if the earth itself is going to be able to continue to sustain our lives.  Very few of us are looking for or expecting a messiah!  Along with the pervasive sense of disillusionment, there is a deep suspicion of those who would be leaders in our day.  We find it hard to trust that they will keep the welfare of the whole in mind as they exercise the power and influence granted them.  Of course, if we are really honest we have to admit that very few of us really and truly desire that they do.  Mostly we want to be sure our leaders keep our interests and the interests of those like us in mind.

 

It is also true that our world is becoming increasingly complex.  The challenges we are facing are incredibly complicated.  The diversity of expertise required to lead in our day requires an unprecedented degree of collaboration and commitment among many experts.  The truth of the matter is, most of us feel quite helpless to do much that will really make a difference.

 

Welcome to 2012!  Are you scanning the night skies for a sign of a great deliverer?  If not, what are you looking for?   And where are you looking?  I’ve been reading a leadership book lately by Susan Scott entitled, Fierce Conversations.  She quotes Roget’s Thesaurus in offering up the following synonyms for the word, “fierce:” “robust, intense, strong, powerful, passionate, eager, unbridled, uncurbed, untamed.”  Her argument is that we are all in this together, and we need to find ways to be passionately engaged in and responsive to the world around us.  She argues that we create our relationships, our institutions, and I would add, our world, one conversation at a time; and that the quality and integrity of the conversations we have with one another and with others make a difference in how things unfold. 

 

Perhaps that’s a place we might begin.  If we believe that a more just world is possible, we need to keep talking about it, keep encouraging one another, and keep encouraging those who dare to take up the daunting mantle of offering leadership.  We need to keep holding up the vision of a more equitable sharing of opportunity and income; of nurturing community spaces, facilities and programs for people; of committing ourselves to more environmentally friendly habits, as well as employment and environmental standards for the corporate and industrial world.  When we have an opportunity to offer our opinion on decisions being made by those in leadership, we need to keep asking questions like, “Who or what will benefit from these decisions?” and “Who or what will bear the brunt of them?”   We need to ask, “Will these choices move all of us together in the direction we are hoping to go?”   If we believe, like we say that we do, that God loves the world.  We need to keep the vision of a better world alive and well among us.

 

 

Advent 4B December 18, 2011  “Through the Eyes of a Child”

Scripture:  Luke 2

And it came to pass in those days that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all should be taxed.  And Joseph also went up from Galilee unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, to be taxed with Mary, his espoused wife, being great with child.  And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered.  And she brought forth her first-born son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger because there was no room for them in the inn.  (Luke 2:1-7)

Tell the children, I said.  Tell the children that this story that they are about to share with us is a very important story.  It is a story that was told to your mommy and daddy when they were small just like you.  It is a story that was told to your grandma and grandpa when they were small too.  Tell them that this story has been told over and over again for longer than anyone can remember!  It’s a story about God bending down to earth and being born as a wee baby boy…a wee baby boy who grew up to be a great and good man.. a great and good man who still shows us how to love one another and how  to love life itself.  Ask them then, if they know the baby’s name.  The baby’s name is Jesus.  It’s a very special story, about a very special baby, so we want to do a good job.  We want to tell the story well.

What are your early memories of Christmas?  I asked that of those who attended UCW the other day.  It is amazing how we carry our memories of Christmas through the years.  One of my memories is actually more an impression than an actual memory… a kind of general sense of how things were.  The ‘event’ is Christmas Eve when we gathered into our small church with friends and neighbours and a wonderful story unfolded before us of a child born in a manger—a child who would be known as Prince of Peace, Emmanuel, God is with us… and by many other names as well.  But most important was how the story was told.  It was read in scripture, and repeated in song and in prayer.  It was presented with costumed pageantry.  The characters walked out of the scriptures and right down our isles.  It seems to me that somehow the whole church was transformed for that holy night… and memory tells me that more than the church was transformed.  I remember walking out into the clear cold stillness of a snow-covered winter’s night and looking up through my frosted breath at the stars shining brilliantly in the sky.  I remember the crunch of the snow under my feet, and the warmth of my mother’s hand as she held mine tight.  And, though I wouldn’t have been able to put it into words, I think the people were somehow changed too. There was a lightness about them, a quiet joy.  A strange sense of anticipation hung in the air.  It was Christmas Eve. 

The other night my 10 month old granddaughter attended her first orchestra concert.  My husband, Michael was playing a Christmas concert with the Toronto Community Orchestra (They’re coming here in the spring, by the way!) at Eastminster United Church.  Savannah arrived, carried in the arms of her father… and was soon transferred to mine.  She stood at attention on my lap gazing around in wonder.  She lifted her little finger and pointed towards the flames slowly being lit at the end of each pew… her eyes widened… her lips formed into a little circle… “Ohhhh!”  As the concert progressed, it was as if she had entered a place of absolute wonder.  She turned and turned on tip toe in my lap… she smiled at the people who surrounded us… she raised her arms and directed the orchestra,… she delighted in each new song.  Mesmerized she was by the beauty all around us.  How could we have missed all this… the wonder of it all, I mean? 

Paula D’Arcy, in her Daybreaks meditation for this morning speaks of a favourite walking path.  She writes,

When I enter its richness, I am in another time and space.  Street noises diminish.  My breaths lengthen.  It’s a secret wood.  A small oasis.  A place of stillness that causes my thinking to shift from the automatic analytical process to a flow and fullness from deep within.  And if you were to ask me, in the center of that path, what I really think the Christ child came to reveal, I would say, “Just what I’m experiencing right now.  This.  This recognition of spirit in life, far removed from a deity defined by the mind, or by adherence to a set of beliefs.” 

 

Cynthia Bourgeault describes it by saying that Jesus came to give us a totally different operating system.  Over and over again he repeats that the kingdom of heaven is here.  But it’s not an earthly kingdom.  And not a heaven in a different location.  This.  Here.  Now.  A way of seeing.  He wanted to catapult us into a different way of relating to life and the spirit in life.  He wanted to awaken something within us that would set us free…. 

 

D’Arcy writes, “We have taken the story in a different direction and made that direction our truth.  We emphasize the celebrations of the birth, remembrances of the journey.  A blessed virgin.  The stable.  Shepherds in the field.  Christmas trees.  Gifts.  … We risk avoiding the message by endlessly repeating our customs until we’ve missed the shift in consciousness that would take us from logic and memory to the deeper truth:  The day of God is at hand.  Here.  This.  Right now.  The spirit within will show you.  You don’t have to wait for another heaven—just see the one in front of you.* 

 

I wonder what these children who have graced us with their young exuberance on this day will remember when they look back upon their Christmases past? I hope they will carry in their hearts the Story of the One who has drawn near to us in the birth of the Christ child.  I hope they will carry within the sure knowledge that in the birth of every child something precious and holy has transpired.  I hope there will be memoirs of giving and receiving that gladden their hearts and bouy their spirits as the years pass.  And, when the details of Christmases past have grown dim, I hope they will remember the grandness of the story, the beauty of the message, and a celebration that somehow attuned their hearts to the wild and precious beauty of life itself-- the greatest gift given into all our hands.   

*Paula D’Arcy, Daybreaks:  Daily Reflections for Advent and Christmas, Liguori, Liguoir, Mo  2007.

 

 

Advent 2B December 4, 2012  “Moving Heaven and Earth”

Scripture:  Isaiah 40:1-11   Psalm 85   2 Peter 3:8-15   Mark 1:1-8

I was watching an episode of House yesterday afternoon.  There was a young man who was deaf and suffering from a puzzling illness.  Exploratory brain surgery was undertaken, and while the surgeon was literally inside the young man’s head, House told him to put in cochlear implants.  This, even though the young man and his mother had both made it abundantly clear that he did not wish implants.  He had no desire to enter into the hearing world.  For him, it meant entering strange and unfamiliar territory.  It meant there would be significant changes in the offing.  He just plain wasn’t up for it.  And so he said, “No!”  And House had said, “Yes!”  And it had been done.

I wonder how often we choose deafness over hearing.  I wonder how often we choose to be deaf to one another.  We become comfortable (if not happy) with the way things are, and we know intuitively that if we really and truly speak and listen to one another, there will be change in the offing.  We will find ourselves in strange and unfamiliar territory; and truth to tell, we just plain aren’t up for it.  So when we have time when we might simply be together, we choose to watch TV, or go to the Movies, or we  remember that call we need to make, or decide to work on some project that we’ve been meaning to do--anything to avoid speaking and listening—anything to avoid opening our minds and hearts to one another.

It got me to thinking about how often we also choose to be deaf to the voice of God.  Many of us would rather do almost anything than spend time simply listening for the voice of God.  It just seems such a waste of time! To tell the truth, I think we mostly prefer our deafness.  We’re comfortable (if not happy) with our lives.  And we know intuitively that if we listen, if we really and truly take time to listen, and God actually speaks a Divine Word-- well, there will be change in the offing.  And we just plain aren’t up to it.  So we say, “No!”  “No cochlear implants!  We don’t want to hear.”  So, we keep ourselves busy.  We don’t expose ourselves to too much silence.  We keep the radio or the TV on, an ear-piece in our ear, and a “To Do” list at the ready-- just in case….

Far too often, we turn a deaf ear.  We turn a deaf ear to ourselves, to one another, and yes, even to the voice of the Holy Spirit. Far too often we simply choose not to hear—to silence the voices in our heads and hearts, and to choose not to really to one another, and certainly not to listen attentively for the voice of God.  We’re comfortable (if not really happy) with present arrangements, and so we keep ourselves busy, and engage in conversation light.  We know intuitively that if we listen… really listen, life may get a lot more interesting.  It may also get a lot more uncertain.  We fear finding ourselves walking in unfamiliar territory.  Frankly most of us have a strange affection for the familiar!

In this morning’s Advent reflection from Daybreaks by Paula D’Arcy, she writes about a time when she dared to listen. Her father with whom she long had a conflicted relationship was gravely ill. She knew that whether or not they could come to a place of reconciliation with one another, it was important for her come to a place of love for him.  She undertook a weekly discipline of taking the hour long drive to visit her father.  On her way there, she didn’t turn on the radio to drown out her angers, fears, hurts or apprehensions--rather she chose to listen to her own soul.  For the first half hour she would gently remember the rejections and confusing memories that had made up their relationship.  Then she would roll down her windows and let those memories fly with the wind.  Please note, she did not push down her difficult memories, thoughts and feelings, rather she gently allowed them to come to consciousness, she gave them room, and then as she opened her windows and the wind swept through her car, she consciously released their weight to the wind.  In the words of Isaiah or John the Baptist, she was, “Preparing the way for the Lord” and, “making his paths straight.”  She writes, “If I kept choosing to remember past hurts instead of the power of love within, what did that say about my faith?  Ultimately I wanted nothing to prevail against love.” And so, for the second half hour she would consciously fill up her heart and mind--and her car-- with hope and love.  Week after week, she made that trip, and she visited her father.  Sometimes he was responsive, sometimes not.  Once he refused to acknowledge her. But, she knew that she wasn’t working to change him, rather to search out and find the love that was deep within her own heart.  She determined to practice her loving even in the face of this difficult and hurtful relationship. 

Week after week, she repeated this pattern.  Week after week, valleys of anger and despair were lifted up, and mountains of hurt and confusion were made low. The goodness of God, in the shape of healing, hope, peace, and love slowly made its way down the pathways into her heart and her mind.  With every trip, she felt a growing peace.  One day after she had spoken with her father’s doctor on his behalf, her father, this once formidable attorney, broke down and wept. Then he said, “Thank you.”  In these two precious words were the only declaration of love she would hear from him. Strangely it was enough.  You see, she was listening.

Paula had moved heaven and earth to come to loving relationship with her father.  It wasn’t an effort lightly undertaken, nor was it a quick and easy fix.  She didn’t simply say her prayers and expect God to do all the work. Instead, she chose to get in that car and drive and as she did, to listen gently and compassionately to the hurt and confusion that had found their way deep into her heart, and then over and over again to open those windows and release them.  With each release, she chose to fill her heart with love and hope, and to boldly walk into that hospital room to offer her heartfelt care and compassion to this father, with whom she had experienced so much heartache.   This was for Paula, “the journey from selfishness and righteousness into the fullness of love”  “This,” she writes, “is the necessary journey of all our hearts.”

The Psalmist writes, “Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet; righteousness and peace will kiss each other.  Faithfulness will spring up from the ground, and righteousness will look down from the sky.”  Paula moved heaven and earth to come to loving relationship with her father.  It seems that from time immemorial there has been a profound recognition that heaven and earth are meant to move in harmonious relationship with one another.  God blesses the world through lives that are open to the winds of heaven-- through people who will open their ears, their eyes, and their hearts to the voice of God, and then live and speak the word they have heard.  The Psalmist writes, “God will speak peace to his people, to his faithful, to those who turn to him in their hearts.”  It seems there is meant to be an intermingling of heaven and earth, and when it happens both God and we are glorified.    

Back to the episode of House - It is post-surgery.  The young man hears… and he is furious.  His mother tries to explain to him both in sign and in spoken word that he must wait for healing before it is safe for him to have the implants removed.  She calls him by name.  He stops short and looks at her.  He spells out Seth with his hands, and asks if she has just spoken his name.  She says, “Yes.”  He says, “Say it again.” 

When we are finally willing to listen, when we are finally willing to open ourselves to love—which is after all the nature of our God, we may be astounded to hear ourselves being called by name, and in the hearing find ourselves profoundly changed.  And to our astonishment, we may find an unfamiliar comfort there. 

“Seth,” she said.  Then, as tears pool in his eyes,“Seth.”

 

 

Reign of Christ  November 20, 2011   “A Fiery Gospel”

Scripture:  Ezekiel 34: 11-13, 16, 20-24  Ephesians 1: 15-23  Matthew 25: 31-46

There’s an old joke about a minister and a truck driver who meet up at the gates of heaven.  As they stand there waiting for St. Peter to show up and invite them in, they have an opportunity to get acquainted.  Finally St. Peter shows up, opens the gates and invites them both in.  Heaven is spectacular in every way.  It is all beyond their wildest imaginations.  As they walk along, they come to a grand and beautiful mansion.  St. Peter waves the truck driver in and bids him well.  He assures him that he will be met at the door and shown around.  Make yourself comfortable, he shouts!  As they walk on the minister thinks to himself, “Wow, if that crusty old truck driver gets a mansion like that, I can’t wait to see where I’m going!”  Immediately they arrive at the gates of a simple but lovely condo.  St. Peter waves her in, assuring the minister that she too will be met at the door and shown her new digs.  The minister is puzzled. “This is all very nice, but come on, I’ve dedicated my whole life to showing people the way to heaven, and I get a condo while that old truck driver gets the mansion?”  St. Peter replied, “That crusty old truck driver scared the hell out of more people in one day, than you did in your whole lifetime. Of course that guy gets the mansion!”

The writer of Matthew’s gospel has more than a little bit of the perspective of that angel!  I haven’t counted, but I suspect that the gospel of Matthew has more warnings of weeping, gnashing of teeth, being thrown into the outer darkness, and cast into the eternal fire than all the other gospels put together.  If any gospel is going to scare the hell out of you, it will be Matthew’s gospel.  Of course it’s not all bad news for the fallen.  Matthew’s Jesus does have his gentler side.  Matthew’s Jesus is, after all, the Jesus of the Beatitudes, and of the Lord’s Prayer. Matthew’s Jesus is the patient teacher, and compassionate healer as well as the hellfire and brimstone preacher! 

Matthew was the last of the synoptic gospels to be written (John was written later).  Perhaps by this time people were starting to fall away.  Perhaps they were starting to not take the teachings seriously.  Maybe it was the ongoing strain between those Jews who believed Jesus was Messiah, and those who didn’t.  Maybe it was the stress of living under ongoing Roman occupation.  Or, maybe it was just that Jesus was taking so blessed long to return… When was he going to return anyway??   At any rate, by the time Matthew is written, Jesus’ teachings had gotten longer, and his warnings against falling away harsher and stronger.  Matthew’s Jesus is definitely not gentle Jesus meek and mild. The parable of the end times told in this morning’s reading is told only in the gospel of Matthew.  I suspect that we’ve all heard it before, how the nations will be gathered before the Son of man and judged.. as sheep or goats!!.. not according to their beliefs as would be the case in the gospel of John, but according to the measure of their compassion for one another.  Ironic isn’t it.. that this hellfire and brimstone risen Christ judges everyone based on their kindness! 

This is Christ the King, or Reign of Christ Sunday.  Pope Pius XI declared it so in 1925 (The same year that The United Church of Canada came into being). In 1969, Pope John Paul the IV moved the Feast from its original date just before All Saints Sunday, to the last Sunday of the Liturgical year.  Today, by the way, is the last Sunday in year A of our 3 year liturgical cycle.  Year A is Matthew’s year.  Next Sunday, the first Sunday in Advent begins year B when Mark’s gospel, and Mark’s Jesus take centre stage!  At any rate, I guess it was John Paul who decided that the passage about the coming of the Son of Man at the final judgment would be a fitting way for us to end year A before we begin preparations for the coming of the Christ child once again. 

So what do we make of this whole idea of a final judgment?  Do you imagine a time when A Divine Son of Man will come on the clouds, and sit on his throne, and call all the nations before him?  I asked that question, or something like it, as we sat around the dinner table last night.  I had spent the whole afternoon preparing a sermon exploring the history and evolving meaning of the Reign of Christ, or Christ the King Sunday.  When I arrived at my daughter’s home, of course, everyone asked about the sermon.  I said, “Terrible!  Boring!!  I finished it and I’m going to have to start over.”   So, being the helpful family they are they said, let’s talk about it over dinner.”  You gotta love’em, don’t you??  So, I asked them something along the lines of, “Do you believe in a God who is going to gather us all together at some end time, judge us all, and send us packing in one direction or another according to our deeds?”  And I think I got a pretty definitive, “no.” from around the table… except for the young Muslim fellow who had joined us and said that they were taught the same thing in their tradition.  But what evolved was a discussion of how we are challenged, changed, and shaped by the events of our lives and our responses to them.

Perhaps what this time of year offers us is an opportunity to reflect on our lives.  We are in the middle of a stewardship campaign here at Manor Road, so we might reflect on our lives according to that concept.  Are we being good stewards of our lives?  Are we making good use of the gifts we have been given?  Are we being faithful in the use of our financial resources?  Are we living lives that reflect the goodness of God in our lives?  Are we living lives that reflect God’s love and compassion for those whose lives we touch on any given day?  Are we living lives that honour and protect the world that God has entrusted to our care? 

In the wider culture, we tend to take New Years as a time to make resolutions about how we will make better choices in the coming year, but on the Church calendar, this is the Sunday—this is the day when we are invited to look back, to look forward, and then to look into the depths of our hearts and minds, and at how we are spending our time, our energy, and our money, and to faithfully consider once again how we will live. We might ask ourselves the question:  “If others were to look at us, to really look at who we are, what is the one word that they might use to best describe us?”  Would they look at us and call us Kind?  Compassionate?  Supportive?  Brilliant?  Generous?  Or would words like: Angry, Resentful, Judgmental, or Selfish come to mind?  What is the shape and impression of your life?    

In our reading from Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, Paul writes words of encouragement to the church in Ephesus.  He writes good news.  I have heard of your faith and your love towards all the saints.. I give thanks for you… I pray for you… that God will give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation, that God will open the eyes of your heart (don’t you just love that phrase?), that you may know the hope to which you have been called.. and the glorious inheritance among you.  Paul writes of the great power among those who truly believe and live in the risen Christ. Paul also writes of a Divine inheritance with which they have been entrusted-- the power that has been given for Jews and Gentiles to come together in faith, in reconciliation, in hope, and in love. What would have been deemed impossible to previous generations of the faithful, has become a reality among them.  This is the gift of God for the people of God made possible by the power of God to bring life out of death.

There are other questions we might ask ourselves as we come to the end of another liturgical year—questions like:  “Where do we need the resurrection power of God to be at work in our life and ministry together?” or “Where do we need to ask for the mighty power of God to forgive one another, to let go of resentments, disappointments, or frustrated wishes?”  “How do we take hold of that glorious inheritance of reconciliation that has been offered to us and make it real?”  I wonder, what do people see and hear when they walk into our church for the first, and second, and third time?  Do they see us as a people with the eyes of our hearts wide open?  I wonder.

 

 

Pentecost 22A  November 13, 2011  “Last Words”

Scripture:  Psalm 123     Matthew 25: 1, 14-30

“In Zen practice it is often said that the span of our lives is like a dew drop on a leaf—beautiful, precious, and extremely short-lived.”  (Lesser)

This morning’s gospel parable is one of four which Jesus offers to a small circle of disciples gathered around him.  In a few days, he will be crucified.  The writing is on the wall.  He is living with the sure sense that his days are numbered, and he is painfully aware of the beauty, preciousness, and brevity of life.  I imagine him looking around with love and longing in his heart at this small, fragile, and courageous band of men and women.  They have grown so dear to him.  They have believed in him.  They have committed their lives to his vision of God’s dream for the world.  They have sacrificed much to follow him, to learn from him, and now as the time draws near for him to leave, he is preparing them to continue on with his mission.  He has taught them, and so many others, in prayers and stories, in teachings and healings, at the table, along the road, and on hillsides.  He has used every trick in the book to open their hearts, minds, and spirits to the way, the truth, and the life that God has in store for them—and for all.   His own life has been one bold invitation to deepen their faith and widen their horizons. He has urged them to open their eyes to the world around them, to see its’ possibilities afresh through the eyes of God, and to work for a better world.  Now the time has come to entrust his mission to them. 

I am reminded Jack Layton’s last days before his death this past August.  The writing is on the wall.  He is living with the sure sense that his days are numbered, and he too is painfully aware of the beauty, preciousness, and brevity of life.  Aware that he does not have much longer to live, he spends time with family and friends, and with key people who will carry forward the vision that he has spent a lifetime honing. He writes a letter.  It begins simply, with these poignant words, “Dear friends.”  To those who had personally supported him: “Your spirit and love have lit up my home, my spirit, and my determination.”  To those living with cancer: “You have every reason to be optimistic, determined, and focused on the future. …cherish every moment with those you love at every stage of your journey.  To those who will take up the party’s torch, “There will be those who will try to persuade you to give up our cause. But that cause is much bigger than any one leader. Answer them by recommitting with energy and determination to our work.” To young Canadians, “I want to share with you my belief in your power to change this country and this world. There are great challenges before you, from the overwhelming nature of climate change to the unfairness of an economy that excludes so many from our collective wealth, and the changes necessary to build a more inclusive and generous Canada. I believe in you. Your energy, your vision, your passion for justice are exactly what this country needs today.”  And, to all Canadians: “Canada is a great country.. We can be a better one – a country of greater equality, justice, and opportunity.  We can build a prosperous economy and a society that shares its benefits more fairly. We can look after our seniors. We can offer better futures for our children. We can do our part to save the world’s environment. ..we can be a better, fairer, more equal country by working together. Don’t let them tell you it can’t be done.”  He closes his letter with these words: “My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world.”   All my very best, Jack Layton. 

I look at the teachings of Jesus, and I look at the writing of Jack Layton, and I marvel that over the centuries the great issues and challenges of human life have remained pretty much the same.  From the time when Jesus walked the roads of Galilee with his message of the realm of God, to these past years when Jack Layton took up the cause of the last and least in our society, leaders have arisen to put forward the challenge to everyday people like you and me to be attentive to the suffering around us, and to seek to find ways to create a more just, loving, and hope-filled world.

The parable we read this morning speaks to the reality that we are not invited to simply sit back and believe the right things, and say the right things.  The life of faith isn’t simply about memorizing and reciting the right verses and creeds. The parable is meant to remind us that we have been entrusted with something of enormous value.  We have been entrusted with a vision—a vision that Jesus calls the Realm or Kingdom of God.  The gauntlet has been thrown down, generation after generation for people of faith and good will to work together towards a better world. This is not a vision that is meant to be regarded simply as a utopian fantasy, rather it is one meant to inspire us.  We are urged to put forth our best efforts  into recognizing, celebrating, affirming, and supporting the goodness of life where we see it; but also towards working creatively, daringly, and undaunted towards a world where injustice and deep sorrow all too often holds sway.  The good news in the parable is that although the vision is large and the task always and ever beyond the scope of a single life or lifetime, we are each and together entrusted only with a portion equal to our ability, and the span of our lives.  Not everyone is called to be a Jesus, or a Gandhi, or even a Jack Layton.  We are not asked to do more than we are able, but every one of us has a part to play—whether in the depths of our own hearts, in the breadth of our personal relationships, or in the machinations of the wider world.  We are, after all deeply interconnected.  

What is it that gets in the way of our putting our best efforts forward in contributing to the greater good right where we are?  The slave in the parable cites fear--and it is true for all of us that even when we have the best of intentions, fear sometimes stops us dead in our tracks. But, please take note, this slave created the conditions for his fear himself by imagining the Master to be quite different than he had already shown himself to be.  Ever had that happen to you?  Strangely, we sometimes believe our imaginings—even when they have little basis in our lived experience!!  The Master in the story, doesn’t buy the fear defense, and instead, cites the servant for sloth.  Instead of creatively and persistently working with that with which he has been entrusted, or even investing in the most obvious and simple way, he has simply chosen to bury it and be done with it until the master returns.

I wonder how often we simply bury our God-given vision for our own lives, much less the Divine dream for a better world—a better family, community, or even a more faith-filled church??     I wonder what would happen if each one of us would take some time to ask ourselves some important questions—questions like:   

1.      “Why am I here on this planet… Doing this particular work?  Living in this family? Attending this church? ”  Or in broader terms, “What is my purpose?”  Or, in light of the parable, “What is the treasure with which I have been entrusted?”

2.      How am I doing in relation to this purpose?  “Am I being faithful in how I am living the life that has been entrusted to me?”   

3.      What do I need to do to align my purpose and my actions?  Or what needs to change in my life so that I can be a better steward of my gifts and passions?        

In his book titled, Less, Marc Lesser urges his readers with these words,  “Whatever you want to accomplish, whatever is important to you, do it, and do it now—with as much grace, intensity, and sense of ease as you can muster. “ (Lesser)

Poet Mary Oliver challenges us in a slightly different way.  She asks:                                                     

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,                                                                               

the one who is eating sugar out of my hand…

 

Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?*

 

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.**

Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?*

Mary Oliver, New and Selected Poems, Beacon Press, Boston, 1992,   *“The Summer Day” pg. 94, **“Wild Geese” pg. 110.

Marc Lesser, Less, New World Library, Novato, Ca. 2009, pg 95.

 

Pentecost 20A  October 30, 2011  “A Worthy Life”

Scripture: Micah 3: 5-12   Psalm 43   I Thessalonians 2: 9-13   Matthew 23: 1-12    

Leadership can be a tough gig. We need only recall the words of Micah railing against the leaders of ancient Israel; or overhear the words of Matthew’s Jesus on a rant against the religious leaders of his day; or read between the lines of the words of the Apostle Paul,  steadfastly defending his reputation, to know that leadership can a really tough gig. 

As we read the letter of Paul, Silas and Timothy to the infant church in Thessalonica, we get a sense of just how tough things can get.  Paul and the others have fled Philippi where they have been beaten, treated shamefully (we can only imagine what that might mean), and imprisoned.  They have traveled to Thessalonica, the Capital of Macedonia, where they have stay for a brief time, preaching the Good News of Jesus Christ in the local synagogues; and also living, working, and sharing in the day to day life of the people.  Jews and Romans, men and women, slaves and citizens alike have responded positively to their message. A community of believers has come to birth; but, there are also those in Thessalonica who are outraged by their presence -- Jews who consider the apostles’ claims about the Lordship of Jesus to be blasphemous and in contradiction to their central tenant: “Hear O Israel, The Lord Our God is One God;”and, Romans who consider those same claims to be treasonous, because “there is no king but Caesar.”  These two disparate groups have become unlikely allies joining forces to incite a riot and launch a disinformation campaign against the apostles and their teaching.  They want to stop these men in their tracks, and to discredit both them and their message. Paul, Silas and Timothy flee Thessalonica under the cover of darkness before they can be seized by an angry mob; and their host in that city is arrested and forced to pay a peace bond in order to obtain his own release.  (Acts 16) 

In this morning’s reading, Paul defends his and his fellow apostles’ authority, reputation, and motivations to the members of this infant church which they have so suddenly been forced to leave behind.  Paul firmly believes and boldly proclaims that he has been, converted by God, called by God, and entrusted with God’s good news of Jesus Christ. 

He also understands that he is daily being tested and challenged to live a life worthy of this Divine calling.  He meets the charges made against him and the others forthrightly.  He reminds the Thessalonians of the integrity of his words, and of the open hearted generosity with which he and the others had lived amongst them.He reminds them of how they had refused to stand apart from the people – objective, cautious, and cool.  Instead, along with the good news, they had also offered their very own hearts. Paul encourages the Thessalonians to look beyond the charges against him and the others, and to bring to mind the things they have observed and experienced in them firsthand.  Paul knows that it is important that he not keep silent.  If he and those who preach and teach at his side are discredited, if their characters are successfully slandered, if their motivations are made suspect, then the message that resides at the very centre of their lives and ministry may very well suffer the same fates.  The future of the church rests in the people’s conviction that in spite of the claims of those who oppose them, both they and the word they have delivered are trustworthy and true. 

Poet, Paul Aot writes of the human yearning for authentic leadership in a poem entitled:

The Contract

A word from the led

And in the end we follow them—

not because we are paid,

not because we might see some advantage,

not because of the things they have accomplished,

not even because of the dreams they dream

but simply because of who they are:

the man, the woman, the leader, the boss

standing up there when the wave hits the rock,

passing out faith and confidence like life jackets,

knowing the currents, holding the doubts,

imagining the delights and terrors of every landfall:

captain, pirate, and parent by turns,

the bearer of our countless hopes and expectations.

We give them our trust.  We give them our effort.

What we ask in return is that they stay true

In his reflection on this poem, leadership consultant and author, Geoff Bellman, writes the following: 

William Ayot’s leader’s courageous heart pulses with an essential, consistent, persistent purpose.  Behind the leader’s words and actions I see inner strength.  I yearn for a leader like this!  I could dedicate myself to a leader like this!  Midpoem I look up and see myself slipping towards a worshipful follower role:  you lead; you know better.  I’m tired of being responsible, tired of meeting others’ expectations.  You lead; you stand on the deck when the wave hits the rock.  I’ll stand over here and watch. 

As I read the poem; I sense a part of me stepping aside, not measuring up to my ideals, my potential.  And, at the same time, another small voice in me says, I want to be that leader.  I want to be that courageous leader I yearn for.  Yet I don’t know all the currents; I can’t hold all the doubts; I can’t bear all the hopes and expectations. 

… We idealize and idolize heroic leaders and when we compare ourselves to those leaders, we find ourselves lacking.  When others offer themselves as leaders, we ask them to speak heroic words; we embrace them as they speak to our need for the perfect leader.  Later, when they invariably fail to live up to our ideals, we cast them aside and continue our search for our idealized, heroic, and impossible leader. 

“Leadership,” writes Bellman, “must honour, even celebrate, the reality of our very human dimensions if you and I are to lead.” 

The difficulties of leadership are highlighted in all of our scriptures this morning.  Perhaps that is why at least parts of the church, from its very beginnings has sought to be an egalitarian community of believers, What the apostle Peter calls, “a priesthood of believers,” where people are assigned or embrace roles according to their passions and gifts, while at the same time, one role is not elevated above another. 

The person washing up after communion is held with the same deep a regard as the one who visits the sick and as the one who stands up to speak the gospel on Sunday mornings. 

There is so much in our culture at large and in our very human nature which works against the speaking, hearing and doing of the Word of Jesus Christ.  One of the most important aspects of our ministry together is that of committing ourselves to the building up of covenantal relationships within the church. The goal is to create a safe place in which we are both supported and challenged to actively grow in the exploration, expression, and living out of our faith both in the church and in the world.  We need to care for one another, and to be careful about how we speak of and to one another.  We need to care for one another’s reputations as much as we care for our own, and we need to learn to speak and hear the truth in love.  There is much more at stake here than individual egos, opinions and agendas. Together, we have been entrusted with the good news of Jesus Christ, and the truth is, people will only hear it if they read it first and foremost in our life and ministry together.

We demand a lot of our leaders.  Just take a look at any advertisement for a ministry position in our or any denomination and there is little doubt that churches everywhere are looking for a heroic leader such as the one described in Aot’s poem.  And, like Bellman, there is a part of every member in any congregation that would like to step aside from the demands of the gospel and simply let the minister be responsible for carrying them. But once you have felt the unmistakable call of God on your life, there is really nothing to do but follow in whatever particular way you find yourself being led!  This is not something that can be simply delegated to someone else.

The ministry that we share in together is brimming with possibilities, and overflowing in God’s good blessings-- some of the best of whom are sitting right here within these four walls.  I thank God for each one of you, and pray that each one of us will both seek and embrace the call of God on our lives.  I pray that we won’t choose to step aside expecting some other leader to carry the work forward on our behalf.  Instead, may we boldly step into the gospel fray together, and look to the ways God wants to use us to celebrate, share, and live out good news in a world so desperately in need of it.     

The Contract by William Ayot, and the reflections of Geoff Bellman are taken from Leading from Within, p 44,45,  Edited by Sam M. Intrator/Megan Scribner, Published by Jossey-Bass, San Francisco, Ca, Copyright 2007 by the Center for Courage & Renewal.