‘Twas the night before Christmas Eve,
And all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring;
(The dogs had been ousted).
The sermon was written,
Neither too short nor long,
A good message of love
Just wouldn’t be wrong.
The newsletter finished,
To be copied tomorrow.
(With 2 parish copiers
There will not be sorrow!)
The carols selected,
The playlist all done,
Those hymns which so joyfully
Soon will be sung.
The service prepared,
BAS pages marked,
“Let us in from outside!”
The two heathen dogs barked.
My clothing all chosen,
My vestments all laundered.
“What am I forgetting?”
This fab rector pondered.
Dress shoes in a bag,
Alongside Bible, and snacks!
Everything I might need,
There’ll be nothing I lack.
“I think that I’ve got it
All done” said the priest
(for once not a frantic
And unprepared beast!)
The gas tank is full,
The coffee pot set.
Christmas Eve will be long,
But I’ll make it through yet!
And so now, with a novel,
To my bed I do creep.
The last thing that I need
for tomorrow –
Is sleep.
23 December 2011
03 December 2011
Sermon, Advent 2
Isaiah 40:1-11
Psalm 85:1-2, 8-13
2 Peter 3:8-15a
Mark 1:1-8
In the mid-1960’s, Marshall McLuhan coined a new phrase that you may have heard before. This phrase is that “The Medium Is The Message.” And it’s a delightfully confusing term. Even at the time, he enjoyed playing around with its meaning – it was the medium is the message, the mess age, the mass age, and even the massage. Whatever the meaning du jour was intended, I think what we can take away from it is important: How we communicate something is just as important as what we are communicating.
While this catchphrase was new, the meaning of it is certainly not. We have long recognised that how we hear or see something has a great impact on what we think about it. And there are certainly a lot of ways of getting a message these days, aren’t there! Just this weekend, (and in no order), I have received concise information through Facebook, Twitter, Skype, text messaging, telephone, instant messaging, in-person communication, webpages on the internet, video, email, newspapers, books, and radio. Some of those were blogs, some were press releases, some were articles. There were anecdotes, humour, and fictitious stories. There were academic writings with extended vocabulary and proper grammar; there were long casual narratives with daily words, there were hastily written blogs full of typos.
I had other experiences of communication this weekend as well, of a non-verbal kind. In one conversation, there was an extended pause which suggested that there was more to the story yet to be told. In another instance, a one-letter text message let me know that my sharing of information had been received and would be dealt with. A shrug of the shoulders communicates indifference, a smile indicates humour, a constant looking at the watch suggests someone has another commitment. Even my dogs are clear on their needs – a whine to me when they need to go out, a bark at the fence when there is another dog in the area.
Even our tone communicates a lot – when counting, a compassionate tone is used when trying to teach a child. A stressed tone suggests that a person is counting as a means of calming themselves down when dealing with a negative situation. A distracted tone might suggest the counting off of items in a grocery list. A slurred tone might be someone trying to remember just how many drinks is too many. They all communicate different situations.
Likewise, appearance matters. We communicate a lot about who we are by our very appearance. Someone wearing a business suit generally garners respect; someone wearing a uniform in a store is expected to know something about the merchandise; someone huddled in dirty clothes on a street corner is not usually treated well. A cross around the neck suggests a Christian, a Star of David suggests a Jew. In the 60’s long hair was taboo, in the 80’s it was tattoos, nowadays it’s obscure piercings or makeup.
Experts tell us that the majority of our communication is without words. Some 60% is non-verbal (our clothing, our posture, our aroma, our appearance), and an additional 30% is our tone. So before we even get the chance to fumble over our words, we have already communicated some 90% of what others will perceive as our message. This makes a difference when we try to think about what we want others to hear about our message. Even with perfect words, the message may be lost in the medium.
I think this is why we get so much detail today about John the Baptist. We hear not just that he came out of the wilderness, we get a full description – we can visualise him standing there. He’s wearing camel hair. It’s rough, it’s dirty, it’s likely quite smelly. It’s a crude garment, with a leather belt – also likely rough and nasty looking. No tailored cloth for John; he’s the ultimate bush man. And quite the survivalist too – he eats locusts and wild honey. So not the best balanced diet; he’s likely thin, a little gaunt, bug wings and legs stuck in the beeswax on his hands and face. Dirty beard, bad breath, dust clouds all around him, callused feet from all the walking. Not a pretty sight. But he has a message. Oh yes, he has a message. And Mark reminds us that this message is the beginning of the Good News.
So why do we need to have such a graphic visual of this man who brings a message? Because it’s fulfilling a prophesy. He looks exactly like what the people are expecting the messenger of God to look like – after all, it’s what was written about in the scriptures. The chosen people are waiting for someone who looks just like John does. He’s not well-educated, he doesn’t use big fancy words or read off of prepared scrolls. He speaks the way the people want to hear it, in their own language, away from the city (and the city guards) where the people are most comfortable.
So here is the man who brings about the message. Before he opens his mouth, 90% of what he has to say has already been conveyed. Here is the man to bring signal a change – a man whose very appearance represents what the prophet Isaiah has long promised. God’s comfort is coming. “Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God.” God has promised them their time of suffering is coming to an end – that they have more than paid for their sins, that their saviour is coming. That they are to shout from the mountaintop with joy and strength that their God is present, and will provide for them with great love and compassion.
And so the people are ready to hear the good news from John, they are waiting with high hopes for the message he is to bring them. And they hear it. He does not need to re-read the entirety of the scriptures, for the people know them. He is living them. He is preaching of repentance and forgiveness of sins, just as the prophets of old have done. He is fulfilling the prophesy, thanks be to God!
John is also aware of what he can and cannot do, however – he knows that while he plays a significant role in the narrative, that he is not the Messiah. He tells people that his job is to remind people to be prepared for the one who comes after him, the one who will baptise with the Holy Spirit. The one who will become their – and our saviour. He is reminding them that they too have a responsibility within the community. Their responsibility is to make sure that the word spreads – that the entire city and beyond knows that the Lord is coming. They are to take the news of John’s arrival and John’s message and carry it out into the world. Because without someone to receive a message, there can be no message.
And so they went – and we know this because we have these scriptures with us today. But within these scriptures is also a challenge for us all. To prepare the way of the Lord. To go out and proclaim the good news of repentance and forgiveness of sins. To prepare the world for a Saviour. And so we go out to communicate it.
But we must be careful about how we spread this message, to make sure that it is indeed God’s word that is being shared. We must focus on the 90% of communication we give to the world before we open our mouths. We must be aware of how our every action tells those around us a little about us. So whether we meet a person in a business suit or a person begging for change, we offer them the same amount of compassion and respect as we are all children of God. When we interact with one another and give them our full attention instead of checking our watches or making excuses, we are demonstrating God’s infinite patience for all of us. When we make the effort to smile at everyone we see, to be kind to our neighbours, to use a tone that embodies love rather than anger, we are preparing a way. We are removing barriers for one another and so removing barriers for Christ. We are making pathways straight, lifting up valleys, lowering mountains so that all might journey together as a family. As we were instructed to do by the prophets.
Mark tells us that this is the beginning of the Good News. It’s our responsibility to ensure that this Good News continues to be shared.
Psalm 85:1-2, 8-13
2 Peter 3:8-15a
Mark 1:1-8
In the mid-1960’s, Marshall McLuhan coined a new phrase that you may have heard before. This phrase is that “The Medium Is The Message.” And it’s a delightfully confusing term. Even at the time, he enjoyed playing around with its meaning – it was the medium is the message, the mess age, the mass age, and even the massage. Whatever the meaning du jour was intended, I think what we can take away from it is important: How we communicate something is just as important as what we are communicating.
While this catchphrase was new, the meaning of it is certainly not. We have long recognised that how we hear or see something has a great impact on what we think about it. And there are certainly a lot of ways of getting a message these days, aren’t there! Just this weekend, (and in no order), I have received concise information through Facebook, Twitter, Skype, text messaging, telephone, instant messaging, in-person communication, webpages on the internet, video, email, newspapers, books, and radio. Some of those were blogs, some were press releases, some were articles. There were anecdotes, humour, and fictitious stories. There were academic writings with extended vocabulary and proper grammar; there were long casual narratives with daily words, there were hastily written blogs full of typos.
I had other experiences of communication this weekend as well, of a non-verbal kind. In one conversation, there was an extended pause which suggested that there was more to the story yet to be told. In another instance, a one-letter text message let me know that my sharing of information had been received and would be dealt with. A shrug of the shoulders communicates indifference, a smile indicates humour, a constant looking at the watch suggests someone has another commitment. Even my dogs are clear on their needs – a whine to me when they need to go out, a bark at the fence when there is another dog in the area.
Even our tone communicates a lot – when counting, a compassionate tone is used when trying to teach a child. A stressed tone suggests that a person is counting as a means of calming themselves down when dealing with a negative situation. A distracted tone might suggest the counting off of items in a grocery list. A slurred tone might be someone trying to remember just how many drinks is too many. They all communicate different situations.
Likewise, appearance matters. We communicate a lot about who we are by our very appearance. Someone wearing a business suit generally garners respect; someone wearing a uniform in a store is expected to know something about the merchandise; someone huddled in dirty clothes on a street corner is not usually treated well. A cross around the neck suggests a Christian, a Star of David suggests a Jew. In the 60’s long hair was taboo, in the 80’s it was tattoos, nowadays it’s obscure piercings or makeup.
Experts tell us that the majority of our communication is without words. Some 60% is non-verbal (our clothing, our posture, our aroma, our appearance), and an additional 30% is our tone. So before we even get the chance to fumble over our words, we have already communicated some 90% of what others will perceive as our message. This makes a difference when we try to think about what we want others to hear about our message. Even with perfect words, the message may be lost in the medium.
I think this is why we get so much detail today about John the Baptist. We hear not just that he came out of the wilderness, we get a full description – we can visualise him standing there. He’s wearing camel hair. It’s rough, it’s dirty, it’s likely quite smelly. It’s a crude garment, with a leather belt – also likely rough and nasty looking. No tailored cloth for John; he’s the ultimate bush man. And quite the survivalist too – he eats locusts and wild honey. So not the best balanced diet; he’s likely thin, a little gaunt, bug wings and legs stuck in the beeswax on his hands and face. Dirty beard, bad breath, dust clouds all around him, callused feet from all the walking. Not a pretty sight. But he has a message. Oh yes, he has a message. And Mark reminds us that this message is the beginning of the Good News.
So why do we need to have such a graphic visual of this man who brings a message? Because it’s fulfilling a prophesy. He looks exactly like what the people are expecting the messenger of God to look like – after all, it’s what was written about in the scriptures. The chosen people are waiting for someone who looks just like John does. He’s not well-educated, he doesn’t use big fancy words or read off of prepared scrolls. He speaks the way the people want to hear it, in their own language, away from the city (and the city guards) where the people are most comfortable.
So here is the man who brings about the message. Before he opens his mouth, 90% of what he has to say has already been conveyed. Here is the man to bring signal a change – a man whose very appearance represents what the prophet Isaiah has long promised. God’s comfort is coming. “Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God.” God has promised them their time of suffering is coming to an end – that they have more than paid for their sins, that their saviour is coming. That they are to shout from the mountaintop with joy and strength that their God is present, and will provide for them with great love and compassion.
And so the people are ready to hear the good news from John, they are waiting with high hopes for the message he is to bring them. And they hear it. He does not need to re-read the entirety of the scriptures, for the people know them. He is living them. He is preaching of repentance and forgiveness of sins, just as the prophets of old have done. He is fulfilling the prophesy, thanks be to God!
John is also aware of what he can and cannot do, however – he knows that while he plays a significant role in the narrative, that he is not the Messiah. He tells people that his job is to remind people to be prepared for the one who comes after him, the one who will baptise with the Holy Spirit. The one who will become their – and our saviour. He is reminding them that they too have a responsibility within the community. Their responsibility is to make sure that the word spreads – that the entire city and beyond knows that the Lord is coming. They are to take the news of John’s arrival and John’s message and carry it out into the world. Because without someone to receive a message, there can be no message.
And so they went – and we know this because we have these scriptures with us today. But within these scriptures is also a challenge for us all. To prepare the way of the Lord. To go out and proclaim the good news of repentance and forgiveness of sins. To prepare the world for a Saviour. And so we go out to communicate it.
But we must be careful about how we spread this message, to make sure that it is indeed God’s word that is being shared. We must focus on the 90% of communication we give to the world before we open our mouths. We must be aware of how our every action tells those around us a little about us. So whether we meet a person in a business suit or a person begging for change, we offer them the same amount of compassion and respect as we are all children of God. When we interact with one another and give them our full attention instead of checking our watches or making excuses, we are demonstrating God’s infinite patience for all of us. When we make the effort to smile at everyone we see, to be kind to our neighbours, to use a tone that embodies love rather than anger, we are preparing a way. We are removing barriers for one another and so removing barriers for Christ. We are making pathways straight, lifting up valleys, lowering mountains so that all might journey together as a family. As we were instructed to do by the prophets.
Mark tells us that this is the beginning of the Good News. It’s our responsibility to ensure that this Good News continues to be shared.
Sermon, Advent 1
Isaiah 64:1-9
Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19
1 Corinthians 1:3-9
Mark 13:24-37
Do you have a favourite piece of artwork? A painting, a photograph, a sculpture? Each of us has something that has caught our eye, from time to time. That has, for whatever reason, spoken to us. That has somehow invited us to slow down and take a closer look. It may have been in an art gallery, at the side of the road, on the television. Wherever it was, it made an impression. It could have struck us the first time we saw it, or we may have passed it by time and again without paying it any attention. We may have been uncertain about whether we liked it or not, whether we understood it or not. We may not fully understand why we’re attracted to one piece of art and not another.
My favourite painting is Van Gogh’s “A Starry Night.” I love looking at it – I even have a replica hanging over my bed. I’m not sure if it’s the genre (I tend to like the impressionists and post-impressionists). It may be that I’ve always loved stars. It could be that it simply speaks to my favourite colour being blue. I haven’t taken any art classes or have any particularly scholarly appreciation for it- I simply like it. It catches my eye, every time I see it. And I don’t think I necessarily WANT to delve deeply into the meanings and interpretations and all of that about this painting. I just want to keep looking at it and being impressed.
And the more I keep looking at the painting, the more I discover in it. It’s as though layers are peeling away in order that new layers are being revealed. It’s not just a starry night. It’s the mountains in the background to the right (the Alpilles mountain range). It’s the small town (St. Remy). It’s the olive grove just outside of town. It’s the very white church in the centre, with its disproportionally tall steeple. It’s the dark area on the left, which many mistake for a building that is actually a Cyprus tree. It’s the swirling mass in the sky, drawn almost exactly like the depiction of a spiral galaxy drawn by astronomers and widely published some 40 years previously, when Van Gogh was in his youth. It’s the sense of movement across the canvas, and the realisation that the focal point of the picture is not, in fact, in the centre – but in the many subtle details off to the side. It’s as though the artist is encouraging people to take the time to really look at what it is he sees from his bedroom window.
The thing with this painting, too, is that I have to like it for exactly what it is – a starry night. It doesn’t tell me what the future holds, it doesn’t tell me what tomorrow will be like, it focuses just on today. And it invites me to dig deeper into what it means to be caught in just this one moment. This one moment was significant enough to the artist to memorise at night and re-create the following day in the daylight, so I should take the time and effort to focus on whatever is presented in front of me.
I find a similar challenge and invitation with Advent. We’re waiting, and watching. We know something is coming. We don’t necessarily know when or how, but we know. Advent is a time for us to intentionally stop, sit back, and be aware of the world around us. Be aware of how the changing world around us is a symbol – like a fig tree preparing to blossom – that the Christ, the anointed, the Chosen one will come. We do not wait with our eyes on the clock, or the calendar, but with our eyes on the world listening to our hearts. The Latin Adventus, from where we get our Advent, comes from the Greek parousia which compels us not only to be aware as we await the second coming of the Christ but also to remember the waiting of the Hebrew people before Jesus’ appearance to Mary and Joseph.
For us in the Western Church, the season of Advent is 4 weeks, and it starts the new liturgical year. It starts on the 4th Sunday before Christmas – so today is actually the earliest day it can begin. In the Celtic Christian tradition, Advent spans 40 days, beginning 16 Nov., and is treated with prayer and reflection and fasting, much in the same way as Lent. In some traditions, there are candles lit and prayers offered daily in the gathered community; in some there is a wreath whose weekly candles are lit, in others the church bears no special attraction.
Society as a whole tends to ignore the traditions and rituals of Advent. Some of our children will follow a (loosely-called) Advent calendar (notice how they don’t follow the season of Advent but the month of December?) People will be out lighting their Christmas lights, putting up trees, shopping and baking. Shopping – yikes – this weekend, the so-called Black Friday and Cyber Monday – truly a testament to the true meaning of being a Christian society! I was appalled to hear of the violence and hatred being shown in stores, and parking lots. Especially in this time of economic uncertainty, why are people literally killing one another in order to spend money they may not have on more stuff that no one needs? This is not done to prepare for the coming of the Christ!
And so here, we Christians are challenged to really get into the meaning of Advent. We’re meant to avoid the RUSH! Mentality of the secular world and enter into a holy time of anticipating, of waiting, of watching. That’s not to say that we don’t have things to do, but that we are invited into a calmer state of mind and heart in the process, with our focus on the things that do matter this time of year.
We’re invited to recognise that God is making an impression on our hearts, in much the same way that our favourite piece of art does on our eyes. Maybe we don’t understand it, but we realise it’s there. We’re invited to look at the world around us, and be as intentional in that as we are when examining our favourite art – peeling back layers and layers of what others are skimming past, seeing more and more the presence of God’s love and grace and joy. And the harder we look for it, the more we will be delighted to find.
We are entering into this holy season with an awareness – that something new and different is coming, that everything is about to change. And so our response to this awareness is to be prepared for that change – that infusion of light into the world. Our response is to spend a reflective and calm Advent so that we’re eager and energetic and enthusiastic to meet that change, that Christ moment; rather than exhausted by the hustle and bustle. We’re invited to be entranced by just a single moment, not to be so busy that it passes us by unnoticed.
My prayer this Advent is that we all make the time to be present in the moment, recognising God’s presence in the moment.
Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19
1 Corinthians 1:3-9
Mark 13:24-37
Do you have a favourite piece of artwork? A painting, a photograph, a sculpture? Each of us has something that has caught our eye, from time to time. That has, for whatever reason, spoken to us. That has somehow invited us to slow down and take a closer look. It may have been in an art gallery, at the side of the road, on the television. Wherever it was, it made an impression. It could have struck us the first time we saw it, or we may have passed it by time and again without paying it any attention. We may have been uncertain about whether we liked it or not, whether we understood it or not. We may not fully understand why we’re attracted to one piece of art and not another.
My favourite painting is Van Gogh’s “A Starry Night.” I love looking at it – I even have a replica hanging over my bed. I’m not sure if it’s the genre (I tend to like the impressionists and post-impressionists). It may be that I’ve always loved stars. It could be that it simply speaks to my favourite colour being blue. I haven’t taken any art classes or have any particularly scholarly appreciation for it- I simply like it. It catches my eye, every time I see it. And I don’t think I necessarily WANT to delve deeply into the meanings and interpretations and all of that about this painting. I just want to keep looking at it and being impressed.
And the more I keep looking at the painting, the more I discover in it. It’s as though layers are peeling away in order that new layers are being revealed. It’s not just a starry night. It’s the mountains in the background to the right (the Alpilles mountain range). It’s the small town (St. Remy). It’s the olive grove just outside of town. It’s the very white church in the centre, with its disproportionally tall steeple. It’s the dark area on the left, which many mistake for a building that is actually a Cyprus tree. It’s the swirling mass in the sky, drawn almost exactly like the depiction of a spiral galaxy drawn by astronomers and widely published some 40 years previously, when Van Gogh was in his youth. It’s the sense of movement across the canvas, and the realisation that the focal point of the picture is not, in fact, in the centre – but in the many subtle details off to the side. It’s as though the artist is encouraging people to take the time to really look at what it is he sees from his bedroom window.
The thing with this painting, too, is that I have to like it for exactly what it is – a starry night. It doesn’t tell me what the future holds, it doesn’t tell me what tomorrow will be like, it focuses just on today. And it invites me to dig deeper into what it means to be caught in just this one moment. This one moment was significant enough to the artist to memorise at night and re-create the following day in the daylight, so I should take the time and effort to focus on whatever is presented in front of me.
I find a similar challenge and invitation with Advent. We’re waiting, and watching. We know something is coming. We don’t necessarily know when or how, but we know. Advent is a time for us to intentionally stop, sit back, and be aware of the world around us. Be aware of how the changing world around us is a symbol – like a fig tree preparing to blossom – that the Christ, the anointed, the Chosen one will come. We do not wait with our eyes on the clock, or the calendar, but with our eyes on the world listening to our hearts. The Latin Adventus, from where we get our Advent, comes from the Greek parousia which compels us not only to be aware as we await the second coming of the Christ but also to remember the waiting of the Hebrew people before Jesus’ appearance to Mary and Joseph.
For us in the Western Church, the season of Advent is 4 weeks, and it starts the new liturgical year. It starts on the 4th Sunday before Christmas – so today is actually the earliest day it can begin. In the Celtic Christian tradition, Advent spans 40 days, beginning 16 Nov., and is treated with prayer and reflection and fasting, much in the same way as Lent. In some traditions, there are candles lit and prayers offered daily in the gathered community; in some there is a wreath whose weekly candles are lit, in others the church bears no special attraction.
Society as a whole tends to ignore the traditions and rituals of Advent. Some of our children will follow a (loosely-called) Advent calendar (notice how they don’t follow the season of Advent but the month of December?) People will be out lighting their Christmas lights, putting up trees, shopping and baking. Shopping – yikes – this weekend, the so-called Black Friday and Cyber Monday – truly a testament to the true meaning of being a Christian society! I was appalled to hear of the violence and hatred being shown in stores, and parking lots. Especially in this time of economic uncertainty, why are people literally killing one another in order to spend money they may not have on more stuff that no one needs? This is not done to prepare for the coming of the Christ!
And so here, we Christians are challenged to really get into the meaning of Advent. We’re meant to avoid the RUSH! Mentality of the secular world and enter into a holy time of anticipating, of waiting, of watching. That’s not to say that we don’t have things to do, but that we are invited into a calmer state of mind and heart in the process, with our focus on the things that do matter this time of year.
We’re invited to recognise that God is making an impression on our hearts, in much the same way that our favourite piece of art does on our eyes. Maybe we don’t understand it, but we realise it’s there. We’re invited to look at the world around us, and be as intentional in that as we are when examining our favourite art – peeling back layers and layers of what others are skimming past, seeing more and more the presence of God’s love and grace and joy. And the harder we look for it, the more we will be delighted to find.
We are entering into this holy season with an awareness – that something new and different is coming, that everything is about to change. And so our response to this awareness is to be prepared for that change – that infusion of light into the world. Our response is to spend a reflective and calm Advent so that we’re eager and energetic and enthusiastic to meet that change, that Christ moment; rather than exhausted by the hustle and bustle. We’re invited to be entranced by just a single moment, not to be so busy that it passes us by unnoticed.
My prayer this Advent is that we all make the time to be present in the moment, recognising God’s presence in the moment.
24 November 2011
Good bye Shoal Lake
So last night was my final service as rector of St. Paul's, Shoal Lake. That congregation is now joining the parish grouping of Holy Saints as their third point, under the leadership of my friend, the Rev. Nigel Packwood. This will allow them to have Sunday services, increased pastoral attention, etc. etc. etc. It means that I now serve a 5-point parish instead of 6; I don't have to drive out as far, my Sunday services now cover 2 days instead of 4. So it's a logical decision, though one that was difficult to make.
Emotionally, it's hard. That congregation has a long history with some of the other points I serve, and we've been intentionally working to be a wider wider family here in the Wider wider of Pelly Plains. I've been with them for almost 2 years. And I love them. Deeply. So saying goodbye last night was nowhere near as easy as I had hoped - they have blessed me profoundly (as have all my parishes). But I did write a short prayer of Thanksgiving for that church; a prayer for St. Paul's.
Lord God, you are in this place. We feel you, we praise you, we thank you.
You have bestowed upon us many gifts, and we continue to be amazed at the wonders you set before us.
We respond to your calls for us, to be a family of your children acting as your hands and feet, your heart and your voice in Shoal Lake.
We are blessed with leadership, with joy, with love.
We are blessed with you.
Emotionally, it's hard. That congregation has a long history with some of the other points I serve, and we've been intentionally working to be a wider wider family here in the Wider wider of Pelly Plains. I've been with them for almost 2 years. And I love them. Deeply. So saying goodbye last night was nowhere near as easy as I had hoped - they have blessed me profoundly (as have all my parishes). But I did write a short prayer of Thanksgiving for that church; a prayer for St. Paul's.
Lord God, you are in this place. We feel you, we praise you, we thank you.
You have bestowed upon us many gifts, and we continue to be amazed at the wonders you set before us.
We respond to your calls for us, to be a family of your children acting as your hands and feet, your heart and your voice in Shoal Lake.
We are blessed with leadership, with joy, with love.
We are blessed with you.
20 November 2011
Sermon for Reign of Christ (2011)
Sometimes I want to ask God why He allows there to be injustice in the world. There are too many people who are hungry, and lonely, and homeless, and in need of life’s necessities, and ill, and offenders against society.
I know that God has the ability to make all these situations disappear. To make them right.
Because if God did that, just made all these problems disappear, then *we* wouldn’t have to deal with them. We wouldn’t have to see people hurting, and physically abused, and emotionally crushed in their own communities. We wouldn’t have to interact those who experience discrimination, those who battle addictions, those whose lives we find offensive. We wouldn’t need to acknowledge those who live on the streets, whose career is based on the streets, who very existence seems to be one great tragedy after another. If God would just take care of all that unsavoury stuff, then we could celebrate a community, a wider society, where justice prevailed and the reign of Christ was ever-present.
The challenge becomes, however, HOW this disappearance would happen. Are we expecting God to address the root causes of these problems, or are we hoping that God could just make these ‘unsavoury’ people cease to exist?
So here’s my question – in this utopian Christocentric society, would YOU be there?
Yes, that’s a provocative question. It’s intended to get you thinking. For some of us, the first response will be shock. “Wait – you mean I might *not* be in Christ’s community? Huh?” For others, the first response will be a defense. “Of course I would be there” we might think. “I come to church, I help my neighbour, I do good things. My work has contributed to society, I smile at people in the stores. I do what I can to love the people around me – so yes I would be there!”
Imagine for a moment if your life circumstances were such that your first response was a resigned acceptance of being rejected. “Of course I won’t be there, I’ve been too harshly judged.”
This touches on the very issue of the readings today – judgement. Of all of us being judged. And, sadly, of all of us judging.
We hear the cry for justice in the readings – for things to be set right, put into right relationship. Ezekiel reminds us that the Lord God will save his sheep – that his flock will be searched out and gathered together in safety and health. They will not be battered or bullied or oppressed by other sheep, nor stolen or abused or taken advantage of by other shepherds. God will look after his own, spreading love and compassion and care as widely as possible – and then a little bit further.
The gospel tells us of the division of the good from the bad, the sheep and the goats are separated and dealt with accordingly. Yet once again we see judgement happening. I’m not referring to God’s judgement – because that’s a judgement and justice system that I think we can all agree on as being good. But there’s other judgement happening, a harsh and cruel and worldly judgement. It’s the same judgement that happens day after day in our culture, in our community. It’s the same judgement that we can be found taking part in.
And there are challenges with this understanding of judgement and justice – first off, when we hear these terms, we think in a very negative and penal way. Judgement means harsh prison treatments, justice means people getting exactly what they deserve (of course in a negative context). Secondly, when we think of judgement and justice, we automatically presume that our way of thinking is the only right way.
Jesus challenges his followers in this reading about how they are treating one another – about how they would like to see the perfect world created. And their answers are sadly human-centred. They would choose to ignore those who are most in need, in order to fully honour and glorify the great one in front of them. When Jesus says that the righteous, those who will inherit the Kingdom, have fed him and clothed him and welcomed him and visited him in his prison, these people are baffled. “What are you talking about Jesus?” they seem to say. “You were never in a position like that where we needed to take care of you!” This very response demonstrates that they are not necessarily looking for justice for all, but only those who they see as having authority. Their utopia would include only the good folks that they see, those who think and speak and act like they do.
But the Kingdom of God is a very different place. The true Kingdom of God is one where (as Walter Brueggemann suggests) everyone is working together in “Seeking the lost, Bringing back the strayed, Binding up the injured, Strengthening the weak, Feeding the hungry. … the restoration of the common good so that all members of the community, strong and weak, rich and poor, may live together in a common shalom of shared resources.”
So our challenge today is not to simply acknowledge the true leadership of the Christ in our lives, but to go out and live justice –not an arbitrary ‘right or wrong’ assessment, but an opportunity to recognise our abundant gifts and to use them to work towards setting things right in the way that Christ would. To live our faith in such a way that we, like the Ephesians, could be applauded for our loyalty. To have our eyes opened to see and therefore help those who are hurting, and physically abused, and emotionally crushed in their own communities. To interact with those who experience discrimination, those who battle addictions, those whose lives we find offensive. To be present to and allies for those who live on the streets, whose career is based on the streets, who very existence seems to be one great tragedy after another.
Sometimes I want to ask God why He allows there to be injustice in the world. But I’m afraid He might just ask me the same question.
I know that God has the ability to make all these situations disappear. To make them right.
Because if God did that, just made all these problems disappear, then *we* wouldn’t have to deal with them. We wouldn’t have to see people hurting, and physically abused, and emotionally crushed in their own communities. We wouldn’t have to interact those who experience discrimination, those who battle addictions, those whose lives we find offensive. We wouldn’t need to acknowledge those who live on the streets, whose career is based on the streets, who very existence seems to be one great tragedy after another. If God would just take care of all that unsavoury stuff, then we could celebrate a community, a wider society, where justice prevailed and the reign of Christ was ever-present.
The challenge becomes, however, HOW this disappearance would happen. Are we expecting God to address the root causes of these problems, or are we hoping that God could just make these ‘unsavoury’ people cease to exist?
So here’s my question – in this utopian Christocentric society, would YOU be there?
Yes, that’s a provocative question. It’s intended to get you thinking. For some of us, the first response will be shock. “Wait – you mean I might *not* be in Christ’s community? Huh?” For others, the first response will be a defense. “Of course I would be there” we might think. “I come to church, I help my neighbour, I do good things. My work has contributed to society, I smile at people in the stores. I do what I can to love the people around me – so yes I would be there!”
Imagine for a moment if your life circumstances were such that your first response was a resigned acceptance of being rejected. “Of course I won’t be there, I’ve been too harshly judged.”
This touches on the very issue of the readings today – judgement. Of all of us being judged. And, sadly, of all of us judging.
We hear the cry for justice in the readings – for things to be set right, put into right relationship. Ezekiel reminds us that the Lord God will save his sheep – that his flock will be searched out and gathered together in safety and health. They will not be battered or bullied or oppressed by other sheep, nor stolen or abused or taken advantage of by other shepherds. God will look after his own, spreading love and compassion and care as widely as possible – and then a little bit further.
The gospel tells us of the division of the good from the bad, the sheep and the goats are separated and dealt with accordingly. Yet once again we see judgement happening. I’m not referring to God’s judgement – because that’s a judgement and justice system that I think we can all agree on as being good. But there’s other judgement happening, a harsh and cruel and worldly judgement. It’s the same judgement that happens day after day in our culture, in our community. It’s the same judgement that we can be found taking part in.
And there are challenges with this understanding of judgement and justice – first off, when we hear these terms, we think in a very negative and penal way. Judgement means harsh prison treatments, justice means people getting exactly what they deserve (of course in a negative context). Secondly, when we think of judgement and justice, we automatically presume that our way of thinking is the only right way.
Jesus challenges his followers in this reading about how they are treating one another – about how they would like to see the perfect world created. And their answers are sadly human-centred. They would choose to ignore those who are most in need, in order to fully honour and glorify the great one in front of them. When Jesus says that the righteous, those who will inherit the Kingdom, have fed him and clothed him and welcomed him and visited him in his prison, these people are baffled. “What are you talking about Jesus?” they seem to say. “You were never in a position like that where we needed to take care of you!” This very response demonstrates that they are not necessarily looking for justice for all, but only those who they see as having authority. Their utopia would include only the good folks that they see, those who think and speak and act like they do.
But the Kingdom of God is a very different place. The true Kingdom of God is one where (as Walter Brueggemann suggests) everyone is working together in “Seeking the lost, Bringing back the strayed, Binding up the injured, Strengthening the weak, Feeding the hungry. … the restoration of the common good so that all members of the community, strong and weak, rich and poor, may live together in a common shalom of shared resources.”
So our challenge today is not to simply acknowledge the true leadership of the Christ in our lives, but to go out and live justice –not an arbitrary ‘right or wrong’ assessment, but an opportunity to recognise our abundant gifts and to use them to work towards setting things right in the way that Christ would. To live our faith in such a way that we, like the Ephesians, could be applauded for our loyalty. To have our eyes opened to see and therefore help those who are hurting, and physically abused, and emotionally crushed in their own communities. To interact with those who experience discrimination, those who battle addictions, those whose lives we find offensive. To be present to and allies for those who live on the streets, whose career is based on the streets, who very existence seems to be one great tragedy after another.
Sometimes I want to ask God why He allows there to be injustice in the world. But I’m afraid He might just ask me the same question.
05 November 2011
Sermon, Pentecost +21
MATTHEW 25.1-13
“Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour”
Have you ever realised how much we depend on knowing the time in our society? We have people regularly looking at the clock on the wall, listening to the radio announcer tell us the exact hour at the sound of the beep, frantically checking our watches over and over again. We seem to have become a society that is founded on always knowing the day and the hour. Appointments are scheduled, sunrise and sunset are identified, we have electronic devices (or loving spouses) who remind us of the time. And if we did not have all these devices, then we’d be late – we would miss the arbitrary numbers turning on the clock.
Imagine, if you will, a time before watches. Before clocks. Before people told us that we were always in fear of running late. People would wait patiently for one another if they had scheduled a meeting, because they knew that their companion would arrive. Time was imprecise – mid day was sometime when the sun is directly overhead; midnight was sometime in the midst of the deepest dark. No one knew the exact time, and yet everything was accomplished. People tried to be respectful of other people’s times as they hoped their time would be respected.
Imagine, if you will, if time were not the centre of our schedules. If we had something to do and just did it. Imagine, if you will, if time was not linear. If we allowed time to simply ebb and flow, to move in and around us without our trying to control it. Imagine if none of us had a day timer or a clock, if we could follow the rhythms of our bodies and our cultures without the added pressure.
Before we became slaves to watches, people all did this. They would get up at dawn, and go to bed when it got dark. They would pay attention to the passing of the days based on accomplishments and learnings rather than checking off another day on the calendar. Wise people would be said to have lived a certain number of years one after another, less-wise people would be said to have lived one year over and over again a certain number of times. You weren’t given an age, because that was again an arbitrary number.
Imagine, then, what church would look like if we didn’t have watches. Sermons could go on for hours! (Just kidding, I wouldn’t do that!) But worship would flow according to how people felt, it would be guided by the Spirit to offer praise and thanksgiving as based on the hearts and minds of those gathered. Scriptures would be read, teachings taught, and prayers prayed. People would not need to worry about what day and hour the Lord might come at, because they could listen to the movement of the Spirit and be prepared.
So what about us? How do we prepare? There’s a BBC comedy series called “The Vicar of Dibley” where one of the congregation is... well, she’s not the brightest bulb on the porch. On hearing this reading, she gets very confused, and spends half of one episode asking the vicar what day and time the Lord will come. She wants to put it in her calendar, to make sure Jesus is aware of local bus schedules so He wouldn’t be stuck in traffic, to have plenty of prep time to clean the house and choose her wardrobe. She wants to plan her schedule around to present her best to God upon his arrival. She doesn’t get it – she thinks that the coming of the Lord can be scheduled and categorised and restricted to modern timings. And it’s funny to watch, because it is so ridiculous. The disturbing part, however, is that some people believe that the second coming of Christ will be easily scheduled – just this year we experienced Harold Camping telling us of 2 specific dates (both of which passed by without event) when we could expect the Rapture.
But God doesn’t work that way. God is timeless. God does NOT carry a day timer or wear a watch. God’s time is a different time than ours. It’s not linear or restricted, it is not defined by numbers. God’s time is beyond our imagination, yet is present to us. It speaks to our soul, if we are open to listening. God’s time does not fit with the rhythms of our societies because God is beyond those limitations.
This means that being prepared for God is a difficult task – it’s not like preparing for hosting a party, where you have time to clean the house and make the food and be all dressed up to answer the door when the knock comes. It’s preparing for the coming of God at any time, in any place. That means that we recognise that everything we do may be our last opportunity, our last moment, before the coming. So every time we speak, we use words that we would be happy to have as our last. Every time we hear someone else’s words, we hear them in our hearts with the emotions we would be happy to have as our last. Everything that we do, we would be happy to have as our last accomplishment. Every prayer, every song, every action could be our last – and so we need to prepare for that.
We cannot expect that God will let us know in our cultural reference what time, what day and hour, he will come again. We can expect, however, that God tells our deepest selves that He wants us to be prepared – that God wants for us to choose to prepare ourselves not just for the final day and hour, but for every day and hour – with joyful expectation.
Our God is timeless. Our responding love should be the same. And if it is, we have kept our hearts awake, prepared for that unknown day and hour.
“Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour”
Have you ever realised how much we depend on knowing the time in our society? We have people regularly looking at the clock on the wall, listening to the radio announcer tell us the exact hour at the sound of the beep, frantically checking our watches over and over again. We seem to have become a society that is founded on always knowing the day and the hour. Appointments are scheduled, sunrise and sunset are identified, we have electronic devices (or loving spouses) who remind us of the time. And if we did not have all these devices, then we’d be late – we would miss the arbitrary numbers turning on the clock.
Imagine, if you will, a time before watches. Before clocks. Before people told us that we were always in fear of running late. People would wait patiently for one another if they had scheduled a meeting, because they knew that their companion would arrive. Time was imprecise – mid day was sometime when the sun is directly overhead; midnight was sometime in the midst of the deepest dark. No one knew the exact time, and yet everything was accomplished. People tried to be respectful of other people’s times as they hoped their time would be respected.
Imagine, if you will, if time were not the centre of our schedules. If we had something to do and just did it. Imagine, if you will, if time was not linear. If we allowed time to simply ebb and flow, to move in and around us without our trying to control it. Imagine if none of us had a day timer or a clock, if we could follow the rhythms of our bodies and our cultures without the added pressure.
Before we became slaves to watches, people all did this. They would get up at dawn, and go to bed when it got dark. They would pay attention to the passing of the days based on accomplishments and learnings rather than checking off another day on the calendar. Wise people would be said to have lived a certain number of years one after another, less-wise people would be said to have lived one year over and over again a certain number of times. You weren’t given an age, because that was again an arbitrary number.
Imagine, then, what church would look like if we didn’t have watches. Sermons could go on for hours! (Just kidding, I wouldn’t do that!) But worship would flow according to how people felt, it would be guided by the Spirit to offer praise and thanksgiving as based on the hearts and minds of those gathered. Scriptures would be read, teachings taught, and prayers prayed. People would not need to worry about what day and hour the Lord might come at, because they could listen to the movement of the Spirit and be prepared.
So what about us? How do we prepare? There’s a BBC comedy series called “The Vicar of Dibley” where one of the congregation is... well, she’s not the brightest bulb on the porch. On hearing this reading, she gets very confused, and spends half of one episode asking the vicar what day and time the Lord will come. She wants to put it in her calendar, to make sure Jesus is aware of local bus schedules so He wouldn’t be stuck in traffic, to have plenty of prep time to clean the house and choose her wardrobe. She wants to plan her schedule around to present her best to God upon his arrival. She doesn’t get it – she thinks that the coming of the Lord can be scheduled and categorised and restricted to modern timings. And it’s funny to watch, because it is so ridiculous. The disturbing part, however, is that some people believe that the second coming of Christ will be easily scheduled – just this year we experienced Harold Camping telling us of 2 specific dates (both of which passed by without event) when we could expect the Rapture.
But God doesn’t work that way. God is timeless. God does NOT carry a day timer or wear a watch. God’s time is a different time than ours. It’s not linear or restricted, it is not defined by numbers. God’s time is beyond our imagination, yet is present to us. It speaks to our soul, if we are open to listening. God’s time does not fit with the rhythms of our societies because God is beyond those limitations.
This means that being prepared for God is a difficult task – it’s not like preparing for hosting a party, where you have time to clean the house and make the food and be all dressed up to answer the door when the knock comes. It’s preparing for the coming of God at any time, in any place. That means that we recognise that everything we do may be our last opportunity, our last moment, before the coming. So every time we speak, we use words that we would be happy to have as our last. Every time we hear someone else’s words, we hear them in our hearts with the emotions we would be happy to have as our last. Everything that we do, we would be happy to have as our last accomplishment. Every prayer, every song, every action could be our last – and so we need to prepare for that.
We cannot expect that God will let us know in our cultural reference what time, what day and hour, he will come again. We can expect, however, that God tells our deepest selves that He wants us to be prepared – that God wants for us to choose to prepare ourselves not just for the final day and hour, but for every day and hour – with joyful expectation.
Our God is timeless. Our responding love should be the same. And if it is, we have kept our hearts awake, prepared for that unknown day and hour.
19 September 2011
It's NOT fair!
PENTECOST +14
Matthew 20:1-16
I have a question for you about the scriptures. Who, in this parable of the workers in the vineyard, do you relate to? It’s a serious question, and I would like you to take a moment to think about it – do you relate to the worker hired on at first light, who then put in a full day’s labour for their usual daily wage? Are you the one who showed up late and was hired on at noon, expecting half a day’s wage and then getting a full one? What about the one hired at 5pm, with only one hour of work, who is then given a full day’s wage? Or maybe you relate to someone else. Whoever it is, WHY do you relate to that person?
And now, who is it in the story that you WANT to relate to? The worker who put in a full day’s work and grumbled about receiving the usual daily wage when others worked less and were paid the same? Or the manager who had to pay off the workers in equal amounts starting with those who had worked the least amount of time, in full view of those who had toiled all day? Or the worker who put in one hour and unexpectedly was gifted with a full day’s wage? (Some people actually think this is what clergy do – we work for an hour on Sundays and have the rest of the week off. Uh-hunh. Thank God none of YOU believe that fairy tale!)
So here’s my next question for you – why do you relate to that character from my first question, and why do you want to relate to that character in my second question? What do we actually KNOW about these people? What do we think we know about them? Well, we’ve all passed judgement on these folks, haven’t we? We’ve made an assessment based on incomplete facts. The workers hired at daybreak? Obviously they’re honest, hardworking folks. Those hired at noon? Probably had too much to drink at dinner last night and couldn’t quite get up on time, but at least they tried to work. The lazy so-and-so hired on at 5? Ugh, let’s not even GO near the lack of work ethic on THAT guy! Sadly, we all do this in our daily lives as well – the folks on EI are lazy, if people wanted a job they’d have a job, kids today just don’t know what it means to work, etc.
And yet, again we’re making assumptions and judgements without all the facts. We do not know what people’s situations are which are impacting their lives. The labourer hired at 9 may have been late to the line because he had to milk the goats to feed his family before coming to the marketplace to seek additional work. The man hired at 3 may have had to walk several miles on arthritic bones knowing that most employers would look him over anyway. The labourer hired at 5 may be battling some demon or is simply too old to be really effective in the fields all day. In this day and age, maybe the woman on EI has been trying daily to get a job but is found to be overeducated for menial tasks, maybe the squeegee kid was kicked out of home and has no other options if he wants to finish school, maybe the man’s demon is a mental illness. We just don’t know what people’s situations are, and yet we tend to cast judgements on them without trying to know them.
And it’s not fair.
It’s not fair to them, it’s not fair to us, it’s not fair to God.
A while back I heard a listener-submitted essay on the CBC about the unfairness of life. A Canadian woman has recognised that global society is not fair – she was born in a country and position of priviledge, which is unfair, yet she has made an effort to embrace the unfairness with justice. It reads:
“I remember growing up, as the eldest of three sisters, hearing the constant refrain of “That’s not fair!” if one of us felt that she was not being treated equally. My father’s reply to this was always “Well, life’s not fair.”
I have come to learn that he was right. Life isn’t fair. But also to believe that the world would be a better place if he had been wrong. I believe that around the world, wherever you go, people are people, with the same hopes and expectations, joys and sorrows, as people anywhere else, and that they should also have the same rights as people anywhere else.
I recently had the opportunity to spend three years volunteering as a physiotherapist at a hospital in rural Tanzania, East Africa. While I was there, I attended weddings and funerals; I sang and danced with my friends; I held a new-born baby, and held the hand of an elderly man who was dying. My friends taught me many lessons about the important things in life, including the value of family and community. But I saw again that life isn’t fair. What did I do to deserve the happy accident of birth that had me born into a relatively well-off family in a prosperous country like Canada, with the ability and opportunity to attend university; which led to a well-paying job and the chance to travel the world? My Tanzanian friends: Edither, Judy, Mambo, Taybebwa, Jenester, Christer, Kandaga, Jeska, Denis will never have these opportunities. Life isn’t fair.
But then I remember back to my sisters, and our insistence that we be treated equally. I believe that all people, no matter where they are in the world, are my brothers and my sisters. I feel the need to insist that we all be treated equally. Here, living in Canada, I can make my voice heard as I speak out about social justice. I do my part to work for a more equitable society here in my community of Thunder Bay. I raise awareness about international development and how each of us can play our part to work towards a more just world.
I believe in my heart that every individual around the world is born with inherent value, and should have the same rights as any other person in this world. I believe that we all have an obligation to do our part to make this world a fairer place for all."
We all have the opportunity to see the unfairness of the world, and to struggle for justice. We cannot make the world a fair place, but we can try to do our part to make it a just place. There is a difference – the landowner didn’t tell the labourers that he would pay them what was fair, he told them he would pay them what was right. And he did – he gave to everyone an equal wage for their efforts that day. Was it fair? Not really. Was it right? I would argue that it was.
We tend, from our position of privilege, to speak for wanting fairness but we seldom act in that direction. We in North America are profoundly privileged; we have the blessings of clean water, food, shelter, health care, education, the list goes on. And while we know that the majority of the world is nowhere near as fortunate as we are, we wouldn’t want to give up any of these things to try and reach that equality. Certainly we hope that everyone can have these things, so long as it doesn’t cost us anything – because that just wouldn’t be fair!
I see our society as being the day-long labourers. We claim we want fairness, but we don’t challenge the societal norms. These labourers have seen just but unfair behaviour as they watched their colleagues who worked fewer hours receive the same pay. They have lost nothing, but they have felt entitled to more based on what others received. And yet they don’t question the unjust structure in which they are working. The landowner has significantly more than all of the labourers combined, and even though he hired labourers (instead of working himself) they don’t expect him to do without. So the cry for fairness is not so much about a societal fairness, but their own individual gain. We in Canada also seldom question our structures, so long as we continue to benefit as individuals. It’s not fair – we have so much more than is just – but we’re okay with that.
Now, when we encounter the divine, our challenge is to remember that we are not being denied anything just because others are receiving the same as us. God’s love for us is NOT fair! It is not distributed fairly – it is not based on what we have done, or how well we have done it, or how long we have been Christian, or how many times we came to church, the list goes on. God’s love is given to us – to ALL of us – simply because we are willing to receive it. When we respond to God’s call, we benefit from his grace and generosity and compassion. Whether we have been part of God’s workers for all of our lives, whether we’ve come to know God late in life, whether our Christianity has been overt or more subtle, all God cares about is that we have come to Him. We cannot ever receive more love than God has to give us, but God will never give out less love, either. Our spiritual journeys are as individual and unique as our working journeys. God loves us all the same. And he will celebrate that love with each and every one of us, from the last to the first and back again. It’s not what we consider fair, but it is what is right.
And I don’t know about you, but if the kingdom of God really is like this vineyard, then that’s somewhere that I really want to work.
***CBC essay written by the delightful Kate Jones, who I am privileged to call a friend
Matthew 20:1-16
I have a question for you about the scriptures. Who, in this parable of the workers in the vineyard, do you relate to? It’s a serious question, and I would like you to take a moment to think about it – do you relate to the worker hired on at first light, who then put in a full day’s labour for their usual daily wage? Are you the one who showed up late and was hired on at noon, expecting half a day’s wage and then getting a full one? What about the one hired at 5pm, with only one hour of work, who is then given a full day’s wage? Or maybe you relate to someone else. Whoever it is, WHY do you relate to that person?
And now, who is it in the story that you WANT to relate to? The worker who put in a full day’s work and grumbled about receiving the usual daily wage when others worked less and were paid the same? Or the manager who had to pay off the workers in equal amounts starting with those who had worked the least amount of time, in full view of those who had toiled all day? Or the worker who put in one hour and unexpectedly was gifted with a full day’s wage? (Some people actually think this is what clergy do – we work for an hour on Sundays and have the rest of the week off. Uh-hunh. Thank God none of YOU believe that fairy tale!)
So here’s my next question for you – why do you relate to that character from my first question, and why do you want to relate to that character in my second question? What do we actually KNOW about these people? What do we think we know about them? Well, we’ve all passed judgement on these folks, haven’t we? We’ve made an assessment based on incomplete facts. The workers hired at daybreak? Obviously they’re honest, hardworking folks. Those hired at noon? Probably had too much to drink at dinner last night and couldn’t quite get up on time, but at least they tried to work. The lazy so-and-so hired on at 5? Ugh, let’s not even GO near the lack of work ethic on THAT guy! Sadly, we all do this in our daily lives as well – the folks on EI are lazy, if people wanted a job they’d have a job, kids today just don’t know what it means to work, etc.
And yet, again we’re making assumptions and judgements without all the facts. We do not know what people’s situations are which are impacting their lives. The labourer hired at 9 may have been late to the line because he had to milk the goats to feed his family before coming to the marketplace to seek additional work. The man hired at 3 may have had to walk several miles on arthritic bones knowing that most employers would look him over anyway. The labourer hired at 5 may be battling some demon or is simply too old to be really effective in the fields all day. In this day and age, maybe the woman on EI has been trying daily to get a job but is found to be overeducated for menial tasks, maybe the squeegee kid was kicked out of home and has no other options if he wants to finish school, maybe the man’s demon is a mental illness. We just don’t know what people’s situations are, and yet we tend to cast judgements on them without trying to know them.
And it’s not fair.
It’s not fair to them, it’s not fair to us, it’s not fair to God.
A while back I heard a listener-submitted essay on the CBC about the unfairness of life. A Canadian woman has recognised that global society is not fair – she was born in a country and position of priviledge, which is unfair, yet she has made an effort to embrace the unfairness with justice. It reads:
“I remember growing up, as the eldest of three sisters, hearing the constant refrain of “That’s not fair!” if one of us felt that she was not being treated equally. My father’s reply to this was always “Well, life’s not fair.”
I have come to learn that he was right. Life isn’t fair. But also to believe that the world would be a better place if he had been wrong. I believe that around the world, wherever you go, people are people, with the same hopes and expectations, joys and sorrows, as people anywhere else, and that they should also have the same rights as people anywhere else.
I recently had the opportunity to spend three years volunteering as a physiotherapist at a hospital in rural Tanzania, East Africa. While I was there, I attended weddings and funerals; I sang and danced with my friends; I held a new-born baby, and held the hand of an elderly man who was dying. My friends taught me many lessons about the important things in life, including the value of family and community. But I saw again that life isn’t fair. What did I do to deserve the happy accident of birth that had me born into a relatively well-off family in a prosperous country like Canada, with the ability and opportunity to attend university; which led to a well-paying job and the chance to travel the world? My Tanzanian friends: Edither, Judy, Mambo, Taybebwa, Jenester, Christer, Kandaga, Jeska, Denis will never have these opportunities. Life isn’t fair.
But then I remember back to my sisters, and our insistence that we be treated equally. I believe that all people, no matter where they are in the world, are my brothers and my sisters. I feel the need to insist that we all be treated equally. Here, living in Canada, I can make my voice heard as I speak out about social justice. I do my part to work for a more equitable society here in my community of Thunder Bay. I raise awareness about international development and how each of us can play our part to work towards a more just world.
I believe in my heart that every individual around the world is born with inherent value, and should have the same rights as any other person in this world. I believe that we all have an obligation to do our part to make this world a fairer place for all."
We all have the opportunity to see the unfairness of the world, and to struggle for justice. We cannot make the world a fair place, but we can try to do our part to make it a just place. There is a difference – the landowner didn’t tell the labourers that he would pay them what was fair, he told them he would pay them what was right. And he did – he gave to everyone an equal wage for their efforts that day. Was it fair? Not really. Was it right? I would argue that it was.
We tend, from our position of privilege, to speak for wanting fairness but we seldom act in that direction. We in North America are profoundly privileged; we have the blessings of clean water, food, shelter, health care, education, the list goes on. And while we know that the majority of the world is nowhere near as fortunate as we are, we wouldn’t want to give up any of these things to try and reach that equality. Certainly we hope that everyone can have these things, so long as it doesn’t cost us anything – because that just wouldn’t be fair!
I see our society as being the day-long labourers. We claim we want fairness, but we don’t challenge the societal norms. These labourers have seen just but unfair behaviour as they watched their colleagues who worked fewer hours receive the same pay. They have lost nothing, but they have felt entitled to more based on what others received. And yet they don’t question the unjust structure in which they are working. The landowner has significantly more than all of the labourers combined, and even though he hired labourers (instead of working himself) they don’t expect him to do without. So the cry for fairness is not so much about a societal fairness, but their own individual gain. We in Canada also seldom question our structures, so long as we continue to benefit as individuals. It’s not fair – we have so much more than is just – but we’re okay with that.
Now, when we encounter the divine, our challenge is to remember that we are not being denied anything just because others are receiving the same as us. God’s love for us is NOT fair! It is not distributed fairly – it is not based on what we have done, or how well we have done it, or how long we have been Christian, or how many times we came to church, the list goes on. God’s love is given to us – to ALL of us – simply because we are willing to receive it. When we respond to God’s call, we benefit from his grace and generosity and compassion. Whether we have been part of God’s workers for all of our lives, whether we’ve come to know God late in life, whether our Christianity has been overt or more subtle, all God cares about is that we have come to Him. We cannot ever receive more love than God has to give us, but God will never give out less love, either. Our spiritual journeys are as individual and unique as our working journeys. God loves us all the same. And he will celebrate that love with each and every one of us, from the last to the first and back again. It’s not what we consider fair, but it is what is right.
And I don’t know about you, but if the kingdom of God really is like this vineyard, then that’s somewhere that I really want to work.
***CBC essay written by the delightful Kate Jones, who I am privileged to call a friend
30 July 2011
A Very Late Update...
So, I sort of stopped blogging for a while!
The rest of the Consultation was fab. Monday we discussed food security; GREAT conversations all day! That evening we were invited for drinks at the cloisters with one of the lesser canons. Delightful time; once again my liver just cried. Tuesday we focused on health (physical, systematic, mental) – really good again! Our cultural assessment for the day was a play which had us questioning perspectives, our discussions went all over the place. Very engaging! Wednesday we looked at Conflict and Peace; I got to lead the Bible Study on a lesser-read passage from Judges. We almost missed coffee that morning as we all heard different themes from it! This was our last night, so we had some guests for dinner and then people lingered longer for post-dinner conversation. Some GREAT conversations, laughter, debates. Some great whiskey and brandy and other stuff too... I ended up going to bed about 1, then starting to compile our group’s production for the next day. So Thursday we had time to get ready to leave; we then presented a brief synopsis of some of what each of the groups would be taking away from the consultation. Overall we determined that we needed more time to reflect and pray on it all, and were going to continue with the processes that we had been introduced to (and challenged by). A fantastic course, SO glad I was invited to attend!!!
And the vacation began... early Friday morning (0330) Jean and I left her flat for a girls’ weekend in Paris! We met up with Kate later in the morning, and toured around for the weekend. Kate had never been; I’d been but had no memories left. So now we have plenty! Sacre Coeur, the carousel at Montmartre, Tour Eiffel, l’Arc de Triomphe, the Haagen-Dazs cafe on the Champs Elysee, Notre Dame, a boat cruise on the Seine, the Tuileries, the Louvre (or Loover as we overheard a lot – not a toilet vacuum, just a mis-pronunciation!), etc. We had a VERY full 3 days! Friday was good weather, Saturday and Sunday not so much. Sunday night Jean headed back to London; Kate left Monday morning to head back to Thunder Bay. I wandered around the Ile a bit more (Sorbonne, ah dreams!!!). Then I went out to Chartres, and wandered around for the afternoon. Tuesday I spent the entire day at the Cathedral – walked the labyrinth, climbed the bell tower, toured the crypt. Wednesday was an early start for St. Malo, which would have been a lovely seaside town if it hadn’t been 13 degrees and raining! So I went to my hotel early. Thursday I wandered Mont St Michel and attended a mass with the Benedictines; it’s a gorgeous place worth visiting – glad I wore comfy shoes; I watched some people trying to climb around an ancient church/abbey in heels. Friday I spent the day in Caen (home of William the Conqueror), ending a week of cold and rainy weather. On Saturday I met Jean in Calais; we took the ferry across for Dover (white cliffs) and spent a nice lazy Sunday on the beach (quarry) and wandering around the town before heading back to London. Monday I wandered the city (climbed the monument, walked the South Bank and Thames Path, climbed up the tower of St. Pauls). Tuesday I ventured out to Oxford and fell in love! The Bodleian was great, sitting by the river was beautiful, the Cathedral was amazing, and of course walking around the OUP bookstore was just fun. Wednesday I went to Westminster Abbey and then attended Dr. Faustus at the Globe (standing in the yard, naturally!) before Jean and I had a lovely evening out. Thursday I started the journey home – NOT a good day. First the airline gave away my seat, then stuck me on the back of a plane that nearly crashed in Montreal (people screaming, fire trucks racing out in case we burst into flames, etc. NOT the ideal way to improve your prayer life, but effective!). Then a delay getting to Winnipeg meant I got to MB on Friday. Crashed HARD, did a few things in the city, got to spend some good down time (and Auntie time) before heading home today!
So now I’m home with the dogs, bags unpacked and laundry started. It’s been a heck of an adventure, but I am definitely looking forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight.
The rest of the Consultation was fab. Monday we discussed food security; GREAT conversations all day! That evening we were invited for drinks at the cloisters with one of the lesser canons. Delightful time; once again my liver just cried. Tuesday we focused on health (physical, systematic, mental) – really good again! Our cultural assessment for the day was a play which had us questioning perspectives, our discussions went all over the place. Very engaging! Wednesday we looked at Conflict and Peace; I got to lead the Bible Study on a lesser-read passage from Judges. We almost missed coffee that morning as we all heard different themes from it! This was our last night, so we had some guests for dinner and then people lingered longer for post-dinner conversation. Some GREAT conversations, laughter, debates. Some great whiskey and brandy and other stuff too... I ended up going to bed about 1, then starting to compile our group’s production for the next day. So Thursday we had time to get ready to leave; we then presented a brief synopsis of some of what each of the groups would be taking away from the consultation. Overall we determined that we needed more time to reflect and pray on it all, and were going to continue with the processes that we had been introduced to (and challenged by). A fantastic course, SO glad I was invited to attend!!!
And the vacation began... early Friday morning (0330) Jean and I left her flat for a girls’ weekend in Paris! We met up with Kate later in the morning, and toured around for the weekend. Kate had never been; I’d been but had no memories left. So now we have plenty! Sacre Coeur, the carousel at Montmartre, Tour Eiffel, l’Arc de Triomphe, the Haagen-Dazs cafe on the Champs Elysee, Notre Dame, a boat cruise on the Seine, the Tuileries, the Louvre (or Loover as we overheard a lot – not a toilet vacuum, just a mis-pronunciation!), etc. We had a VERY full 3 days! Friday was good weather, Saturday and Sunday not so much. Sunday night Jean headed back to London; Kate left Monday morning to head back to Thunder Bay. I wandered around the Ile a bit more (Sorbonne, ah dreams!!!). Then I went out to Chartres, and wandered around for the afternoon. Tuesday I spent the entire day at the Cathedral – walked the labyrinth, climbed the bell tower, toured the crypt. Wednesday was an early start for St. Malo, which would have been a lovely seaside town if it hadn’t been 13 degrees and raining! So I went to my hotel early. Thursday I wandered Mont St Michel and attended a mass with the Benedictines; it’s a gorgeous place worth visiting – glad I wore comfy shoes; I watched some people trying to climb around an ancient church/abbey in heels. Friday I spent the day in Caen (home of William the Conqueror), ending a week of cold and rainy weather. On Saturday I met Jean in Calais; we took the ferry across for Dover (white cliffs) and spent a nice lazy Sunday on the beach (quarry) and wandering around the town before heading back to London. Monday I wandered the city (climbed the monument, walked the South Bank and Thames Path, climbed up the tower of St. Pauls). Tuesday I ventured out to Oxford and fell in love! The Bodleian was great, sitting by the river was beautiful, the Cathedral was amazing, and of course walking around the OUP bookstore was just fun. Wednesday I went to Westminster Abbey and then attended Dr. Faustus at the Globe (standing in the yard, naturally!) before Jean and I had a lovely evening out. Thursday I started the journey home – NOT a good day. First the airline gave away my seat, then stuck me on the back of a plane that nearly crashed in Montreal (people screaming, fire trucks racing out in case we burst into flames, etc. NOT the ideal way to improve your prayer life, but effective!). Then a delay getting to Winnipeg meant I got to MB on Friday. Crashed HARD, did a few things in the city, got to spend some good down time (and Auntie time) before heading home today!
So now I’m home with the dogs, bags unpacked and laundry started. It’s been a heck of an adventure, but I am definitely looking forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight.
10 July 2011
Another Update
So we're still continuing on at amazing pace. Thursday's "Equity with Class Divide" led to some amazing conversations. Thursday evening a few of us went out to find a local pub, which was delightful. MUCH fun was had, MUCH laughter was heard throughout the town (yes, I'm relaxed enough that my full laugh is coming out). Walking home we passed QUITE the collection of people leaving some fundraiser or another; apparently George and Cam like to entertain frequently.
Friday our topic was "The Future of Policing," our speaker came to us from the Metropolitan Police (I felt like I'd just met Inspector Lynley from Elizabeth George's novels!!) and I got to lead the book study on Crime and Punishment. Well, how on earth do you summarise and analyse Dostoyevsky in 10 minutes and then jump into conversation? Somehow I managed, and the convo was most engaging! Friday evening we were invited by the Dean of St. George's, the Rt. Rev. David Connor and his wife, Mrs, Connor, to visit the Deanery. WOW. Overwhelming is an understatement! Among other things, we got to walk the pathway along the roof (that Victoria used to wander so as not to be seen on her way to worship), and see the table upon which Charles' head was re-attached prior to his burial next to Henry the 8th. Being as elegant as I am, I managed to hip check the table, leading to a lovely bruise. We also got an insider's look at the Dean's study and the Dean's private chapel (where the royals pray privately); I have secrets from the Albert and Moore chapel and got to sing there- the acoustics are amazing; "The Day Thou Gavest" has always been a favourite but even moreso now. Gorgeous. There is SO much history here it's astounding.
Saturday was a lighter day - our topic was Literature and the Arts. We moved from Psalm 23 to a novel by Potok and a poet speaker. Lovely. She read one of her poems on water - I'll be buying that book for sure! I was honoured to present my paper that evening to our small groups (A theology of water during the Sacred Triduum from Canadian and Anglican perspectives). Very well received. I've been encouraged to submit it for further (read: wider) publication back home. Hallo! And another visit to the local with more fun and laughter. I also went walking around, just around Windsor and Eton. It's like being a goldfish in a bowl - everywhere you look, you see the castle.
And today is a quiet day. I skipped early mattins, but went to later mattins where there's the sermon, and the Military Knights representing the Order of the Garter process. I had a bit of vestment envy (!!!) with the clergy; but it was lovely. The sermon had to connect the clergy conference, the end of school term, and the average person in the pews - with the gospel parables. The preacher did a beautiful job speaking of the need to take (and grant) rest, to celebrate true sabbath. Beautiful. Exactly what a lot of us need to hear :) I spent this afternoon wandering around Queen Mary's Doll House and the State Apartments (aka. went to Lizzie's place, but she's in Scotland at the moment so just got to sit in the public rooms). So now I'm off to evensong, then we're having a guest speaker on clergy and church in the media - should be engaging but continuing with the theme of a quieter, less academic day.
3 more heavy days and one lighter producing day before we leave this glorious place, and then the real work of getting my brain to slow down. This has been too good for words, and it promises to keep getting better.
Friday our topic was "The Future of Policing," our speaker came to us from the Metropolitan Police (I felt like I'd just met Inspector Lynley from Elizabeth George's novels!!) and I got to lead the book study on Crime and Punishment. Well, how on earth do you summarise and analyse Dostoyevsky in 10 minutes and then jump into conversation? Somehow I managed, and the convo was most engaging! Friday evening we were invited by the Dean of St. George's, the Rt. Rev. David Connor and his wife, Mrs, Connor, to visit the Deanery. WOW. Overwhelming is an understatement! Among other things, we got to walk the pathway along the roof (that Victoria used to wander so as not to be seen on her way to worship), and see the table upon which Charles' head was re-attached prior to his burial next to Henry the 8th. Being as elegant as I am, I managed to hip check the table, leading to a lovely bruise. We also got an insider's look at the Dean's study and the Dean's private chapel (where the royals pray privately); I have secrets from the Albert and Moore chapel and got to sing there- the acoustics are amazing; "The Day Thou Gavest" has always been a favourite but even moreso now. Gorgeous. There is SO much history here it's astounding.
Saturday was a lighter day - our topic was Literature and the Arts. We moved from Psalm 23 to a novel by Potok and a poet speaker. Lovely. She read one of her poems on water - I'll be buying that book for sure! I was honoured to present my paper that evening to our small groups (A theology of water during the Sacred Triduum from Canadian and Anglican perspectives). Very well received. I've been encouraged to submit it for further (read: wider) publication back home. Hallo! And another visit to the local with more fun and laughter. I also went walking around, just around Windsor and Eton. It's like being a goldfish in a bowl - everywhere you look, you see the castle.
And today is a quiet day. I skipped early mattins, but went to later mattins where there's the sermon, and the Military Knights representing the Order of the Garter process. I had a bit of vestment envy (!!!) with the clergy; but it was lovely. The sermon had to connect the clergy conference, the end of school term, and the average person in the pews - with the gospel parables. The preacher did a beautiful job speaking of the need to take (and grant) rest, to celebrate true sabbath. Beautiful. Exactly what a lot of us need to hear :) I spent this afternoon wandering around Queen Mary's Doll House and the State Apartments (aka. went to Lizzie's place, but she's in Scotland at the moment so just got to sit in the public rooms). So now I'm off to evensong, then we're having a guest speaker on clergy and church in the media - should be engaging but continuing with the theme of a quieter, less academic day.
3 more heavy days and one lighter producing day before we leave this glorious place, and then the real work of getting my brain to slow down. This has been too good for words, and it promises to keep getting better.
07 July 2011
Thursday morning
Hi all!
So, this is an amazing consultation. After my last post, I went on the chapel tour. WOW. Again I say, WOW. The decorations are fantastic, the history everywhere. And our tour guide had a great sense of humour, so none of us took ourselves too seriously. Each of the decorations has deep meaning, and I thought walking over the grave of Henry the 8th in my sandals was amusing.
We've got VERY full days here. We start the day with morning prayer at 7:30 and Eucharist at 8:00. Breakfast is 8:30 and our first session starts at 9:15. Each day has a theme. We engage in bible study, then have a book/film review. There's LOTS of discussion. Then in the larger group again we have a guest speaker for a 2-hour session, giving us an expert view of the topic in how it relates to the church. Then we have lunch (at this point I already feel like my brain will burst!) After lunch we have time for reflection, which usually means we get caught in informal conversations. Back in our small groups and without our facilitator we spend an hour unpacking and theologising about the topic and what messages/questions/nuggets have stayed with us; then we have choral evensong with a professional choir. Prior to dinner our small groups have one of the group presenting their paper and we get to chat about that - the paper is not normally on the same topic but still very good conversation. Pre-dinner drinks and dinner tend to be quite opulent, and there's usually some after-dinner conversation or programming planned. VERY full days. Today is the thirs day of this pattern; even if I were to only have had these past 2 days of scheduled conversation the trip (and expense) would be worth it!
The first day we discussed today's church - what does the church look like in today's society, what is the role of the church, how do we as clergy adapt/engage/be involved in the changing society. The Bible study was on living in community (Acts 2.40-47), the book review was on Anthony Trollope's The Warden. Yesterday our topic was doing theology in a pluralistic world - biblical study of Babel (Genesis 11.1-9) and film review of The Social network. Good stuff. Today we're heading into Equality with Class Divide; studying Philemon and Wilkinson and Pickett's book The Spirit Level. Should be an engaging day, to say the least!
The people here are fabulous. I'm the only Canadian (the only North American!); though there are folks here from Nigeria and all around the UK and Ireland. There have definitely been some cultural discrepancies and conversations. But the protocol of St. George's House is full inclusion and involvement, and it's being carefully followed. We're all being challenged, being invited to deepen/broaden/re-investiate not our faith but how we express it in and from our own contexts. My brain was full to bursting on day one; by the time we get to the end of this I'm going to be so over-the-top it'll be insane. VERY glad I'm taking some holiday time to do some immediate reflecting!
The location really is beautiful. The castle itself is lovely, though I've not gone too much into it yet. We stay in St. George's House, worship in the chapel, have sessions in the Vicar's House and other smaller buildings. We do have passes to wander around, so I've been into town a few times but the flocks of tourists are overpowering. I'm intending to wander around over to Eton at some point, and to do as much of the castle as possible during my time here. And yes, there are OODLES of photos forthcoming!!
So, this is an amazing consultation. After my last post, I went on the chapel tour. WOW. Again I say, WOW. The decorations are fantastic, the history everywhere. And our tour guide had a great sense of humour, so none of us took ourselves too seriously. Each of the decorations has deep meaning, and I thought walking over the grave of Henry the 8th in my sandals was amusing.
We've got VERY full days here. We start the day with morning prayer at 7:30 and Eucharist at 8:00. Breakfast is 8:30 and our first session starts at 9:15. Each day has a theme. We engage in bible study, then have a book/film review. There's LOTS of discussion. Then in the larger group again we have a guest speaker for a 2-hour session, giving us an expert view of the topic in how it relates to the church. Then we have lunch (at this point I already feel like my brain will burst!) After lunch we have time for reflection, which usually means we get caught in informal conversations. Back in our small groups and without our facilitator we spend an hour unpacking and theologising about the topic and what messages/questions/nuggets have stayed with us; then we have choral evensong with a professional choir. Prior to dinner our small groups have one of the group presenting their paper and we get to chat about that - the paper is not normally on the same topic but still very good conversation. Pre-dinner drinks and dinner tend to be quite opulent, and there's usually some after-dinner conversation or programming planned. VERY full days. Today is the thirs day of this pattern; even if I were to only have had these past 2 days of scheduled conversation the trip (and expense) would be worth it!
The first day we discussed today's church - what does the church look like in today's society, what is the role of the church, how do we as clergy adapt/engage/be involved in the changing society. The Bible study was on living in community (Acts 2.40-47), the book review was on Anthony Trollope's The Warden. Yesterday our topic was doing theology in a pluralistic world - biblical study of Babel (Genesis 11.1-9) and film review of The Social network. Good stuff. Today we're heading into Equality with Class Divide; studying Philemon and Wilkinson and Pickett's book The Spirit Level. Should be an engaging day, to say the least!
The people here are fabulous. I'm the only Canadian (the only North American!); though there are folks here from Nigeria and all around the UK and Ireland. There have definitely been some cultural discrepancies and conversations. But the protocol of St. George's House is full inclusion and involvement, and it's being carefully followed. We're all being challenged, being invited to deepen/broaden/re-investiate not our faith but how we express it in and from our own contexts. My brain was full to bursting on day one; by the time we get to the end of this I'm going to be so over-the-top it'll be insane. VERY glad I'm taking some holiday time to do some immediate reflecting!
The location really is beautiful. The castle itself is lovely, though I've not gone too much into it yet. We stay in St. George's House, worship in the chapel, have sessions in the Vicar's House and other smaller buildings. We do have passes to wander around, so I've been into town a few times but the flocks of tourists are overpowering. I'm intending to wander around over to Eton at some point, and to do as much of the castle as possible during my time here. And yes, there are OODLES of photos forthcoming!!
Day 1...
So. Day one at the consultation. HOLY AMAZING BATMAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I got the the UK on Saturday, and went to Wimbledon (where my friend Jean lives) completely forgetting it was tennis championships. Oops! Slightly mental. Today came out to Windsor. The castle is gorgeous; the chapel is amazing. Worship has a full professional choir each time. So gorgeous. The rooms are lovely, food is FABULOUS, bar is stocked. (Yes, we at planning committee have much to learn for local arrangements!!) It's astounding to see the backgrounds people come from' I'm the only North American here, and folks are generally thrilled that I am here. We'll definitely have to see about continuing this tradition.
A big part of the program is small group work; there's 8 of us plus our facilitator. Seems a good group thus far. We all get to share duties; tomorrow I'm the 'engager' which means I get to lead the discussion and keep notes on a flip chart. I've already noted there's 4 coloured markers. hehehehehe.... happy-flappy-hands!! I present my paper on Tuesday. Very full schedule, I'm *SO* excited I may not be able to sleep tonight.
Anyhow! I'll try to keep some commentary coming along as this 2 weeks continues - right now I'm just overly delighted and exceptionally happy. SO blessed! (And have noted the nearest Starbucks over the castle wall...) Hope all is well wherever you are all at. Off now for a tour of the chapel- hoping for an explanation of some of the weird crown-like decorations!
I got the the UK on Saturday, and went to Wimbledon (where my friend Jean lives) completely forgetting it was tennis championships. Oops! Slightly mental. Today came out to Windsor. The castle is gorgeous; the chapel is amazing. Worship has a full professional choir each time. So gorgeous. The rooms are lovely, food is FABULOUS, bar is stocked. (Yes, we at planning committee have much to learn for local arrangements!!) It's astounding to see the backgrounds people come from' I'm the only North American here, and folks are generally thrilled that I am here. We'll definitely have to see about continuing this tradition.
A big part of the program is small group work; there's 8 of us plus our facilitator. Seems a good group thus far. We all get to share duties; tomorrow I'm the 'engager' which means I get to lead the discussion and keep notes on a flip chart. I've already noted there's 4 coloured markers. hehehehehe.... happy-flappy-hands!! I present my paper on Tuesday. Very full schedule, I'm *SO* excited I may not be able to sleep tonight.
Anyhow! I'll try to keep some commentary coming along as this 2 weeks continues - right now I'm just overly delighted and exceptionally happy. SO blessed! (And have noted the nearest Starbucks over the castle wall...) Hope all is well wherever you are all at. Off now for a tour of the chapel- hoping for an explanation of some of the weird crown-like decorations!
26 May 2011
THE AUDACITY OF HOPE
A few years ago, I attended a conference run by the Trinity Institute in New York. The conference was called "God's Unfinished Future: Why it Matters Now" and talked about eschatology - a big word meaning the endtimes. This came to mind recently in the aftermath of the (most recent) predicted ‘end of the world’ of 21 May by Harold Camping of Family Radio.
What bothered me about Mr. Camping’s prediction was that he was exclusionary. He articulated an angry, vengeful God who would reject the majority of humanity. In doing so, the chosen few who would have been raptured (according to Mr. Camping) would receive the gift of God’s grace, whereas the rest of the world would suffer terrible agony. This goes against my understanding of God as a God of love, and grace, and peace. I truly believe that salvation is available for all of us, and that God’s infinite patience and mercy will penetrate all of us, and that we are all able to receive salvation through Christ – that’s the whole point of living as an Easter people. I heard Mr. Camping’s predictions as a theology of fear, rather than one of hope.
Back at the conference, the speakers offered a different perspective on the endtimes that stayed with me. Using such texts as the Book of Revelations, and the "Left Behind" series (which offers a rather dismal and exclusionary approach to the endtimes), the discussion did not focus on the endtimes as a time of a chosen few being saved and removed from the planet into the Kingdom while the rest of humanity were reduced to a suffering, burning, unworthy people. Rather, the focus of the endtimes was one of hope. The message shared was not one of a far-off heaven (as a destination) but instead of the kingdom of God being an on-going journey made accessible to everyone in the here and now. One of the speakers, Jürgen Moltmann, used the phrase "revitalizing the audacity of hope."
We, as Christians, are invited to be humble. We do not have all the answers, nor can we understand how God expresses his love to all of his family. We do our best to live out our faith in the world around us, respecting God’s authority in all the world. And we live in hope.
As humans, we tend to be afraid of the unknown, and try to explain or dominate that over which we do not have control. We try to control the world around us, not realizing that in removing the unknown, we also remove the possibility of hope. And it is this hope that guides us and helps us to strive toward being better people. As Christians we are challenged to be a people of hope. Why NOT embrace the unknown, and hope for a better world? Yes, we might have setbacks and specific attempts may fail, but that doesn’t mean that we cannot hope. Not a utopian, overly-optimistic hope, but a realistic and positive hope, one that acknowledges potential difficulties and still focuses on the overall attempt. As Christians we’re invited to embrace an audacious hope that celebrates God as the God of all times and places; a God who loves us all and gives everyone an opportunity to come to the Kingdom as part of the family. As Christians we’re invited to live in such a way as to revitalize that audacity of hope for all the world to see.
What bothered me about Mr. Camping’s prediction was that he was exclusionary. He articulated an angry, vengeful God who would reject the majority of humanity. In doing so, the chosen few who would have been raptured (according to Mr. Camping) would receive the gift of God’s grace, whereas the rest of the world would suffer terrible agony. This goes against my understanding of God as a God of love, and grace, and peace. I truly believe that salvation is available for all of us, and that God’s infinite patience and mercy will penetrate all of us, and that we are all able to receive salvation through Christ – that’s the whole point of living as an Easter people. I heard Mr. Camping’s predictions as a theology of fear, rather than one of hope.
Back at the conference, the speakers offered a different perspective on the endtimes that stayed with me. Using such texts as the Book of Revelations, and the "Left Behind" series (which offers a rather dismal and exclusionary approach to the endtimes), the discussion did not focus on the endtimes as a time of a chosen few being saved and removed from the planet into the Kingdom while the rest of humanity were reduced to a suffering, burning, unworthy people. Rather, the focus of the endtimes was one of hope. The message shared was not one of a far-off heaven (as a destination) but instead of the kingdom of God being an on-going journey made accessible to everyone in the here and now. One of the speakers, Jürgen Moltmann, used the phrase "revitalizing the audacity of hope."
We, as Christians, are invited to be humble. We do not have all the answers, nor can we understand how God expresses his love to all of his family. We do our best to live out our faith in the world around us, respecting God’s authority in all the world. And we live in hope.
As humans, we tend to be afraid of the unknown, and try to explain or dominate that over which we do not have control. We try to control the world around us, not realizing that in removing the unknown, we also remove the possibility of hope. And it is this hope that guides us and helps us to strive toward being better people. As Christians we are challenged to be a people of hope. Why NOT embrace the unknown, and hope for a better world? Yes, we might have setbacks and specific attempts may fail, but that doesn’t mean that we cannot hope. Not a utopian, overly-optimistic hope, but a realistic and positive hope, one that acknowledges potential difficulties and still focuses on the overall attempt. As Christians we’re invited to embrace an audacious hope that celebrates God as the God of all times and places; a God who loves us all and gives everyone an opportunity to come to the Kingdom as part of the family. As Christians we’re invited to live in such a way as to revitalize that audacity of hope for all the world to see.
10 April 2011
Lent 5
UNBIND HIM AND LET HIM GO.
Our messages this week are typical of Lent: they’re for the most part difficult to read, but they always end in hope. I think, especially during Lent when we’re in a time of self-denial, that the message of hope is critical. It’s a great way for us to focus on what really matters rather than being caught up in the minutia of day to day.
Our stories today are about bones. Physically, bones are bound by the muscles and flesh that holds them together. Spiritually, however, our ‘dry bones’ are ourselves when we become bound by earthly trappings. We have the choice to be focused on ourselves, thus dry bones existing as bound entities, or to be free from all that ails us and focus on our spiritual selves. Dry bones are humans who occasionally have a spiritual experience. Living bones are not actually concerned about the bones – because they’re spiritual beings having a temporary human experience.
The Gospel today really spells it out for us, telling us that we need to stop being so earthly bound. Jesus has just been confronted over and over again by people demanding earthly things; claiming unrealistic expectations upon him to change their trappings while here on earth. How many times do we hear “if you had been here...” How often do our prayers go in the same direction? How often are we putting expectations on God to change our earthly situation to what we think is best, rather than trying to focus on God’s work happening in God’s time?
I want to challenge us to NOT think about how we are bound to earthly trappings right now. Instead, I want to ask some very specific questions for you to think about this week.
Who do we see in our community that has been bound – by despair, by depression, by pain. Who do we see in our church that has been bound? The signs are there – smiles that don’t quite reach the eyes, seemingly odd comments that suggest that something’s not quite right. We can choose to ignore these signs, or we can choose to engage them. When we engage, we might be able to start a process of unbinding – and when that happens, God rejoices.
Now, who have YOU bound? During our Lenten prayers we specifically ask for God’s forgiveness for those whom we have injured or offended – but do we give it more thought than that? Or do we simply move on to the next intercession? Each of us has done something which has, in some way, caused another to be bound. An unkind word, or inappropriate joke, can have a very negative impact on another without is even realising it. We do not choose to bind the people we love, but it happens when we are focusing on ourselves rather than on the world around us.
So the process of binding is a human one – the process of unbinding is God’s work through human hands. Jesus has raised Lazarus, yet tells the witnesses that they are the ones to unbind him so that he might go back to his worldly place. Jesus is bringing others into God’s work, as a way to get people involved. To realise that the Kingdom of God will come about from the work of many people, not just Jesus’ appearance.
So if our work is to go out into the world and unbind people, it suggests then that God has already been at work in these people, in raising them from their own depths. God’s work is mysterious, and illogical, and perfectly wonderful. And we are being invited to be a part of that work, to recognise that God is always giving people what they need for life – and for new life – but that sometimes they need a helping hand. That their full potential to contribute to the Kingdom is still in some way being hampered by their trappings, their bindings. At any time we can walk into the world and see someone who has been raised from a type of death. And when choose to focus on our spiritual potential, we see that we can help others to be unbound. And who knows, maybe we ourselves will be a bit unbound in the process.
In this story, we church-folk are not the Lazarus people – we believe that we have already received new life, that we are a people of salvation and we do our best to remember that every moment of every day. Rather, we are the witnesses to God’s wonders. We’re the ones standing around with our mouths open in shock, even though we’ve been told to expect the unexpected. We are the group to whom Jesus is saying “Hey! You saw what I did, now it’s your turn to do something – go, unbind him, and let him go!”
Our messages this week are typical of Lent: they’re for the most part difficult to read, but they always end in hope. I think, especially during Lent when we’re in a time of self-denial, that the message of hope is critical. It’s a great way for us to focus on what really matters rather than being caught up in the minutia of day to day.
Our stories today are about bones. Physically, bones are bound by the muscles and flesh that holds them together. Spiritually, however, our ‘dry bones’ are ourselves when we become bound by earthly trappings. We have the choice to be focused on ourselves, thus dry bones existing as bound entities, or to be free from all that ails us and focus on our spiritual selves. Dry bones are humans who occasionally have a spiritual experience. Living bones are not actually concerned about the bones – because they’re spiritual beings having a temporary human experience.
The Gospel today really spells it out for us, telling us that we need to stop being so earthly bound. Jesus has just been confronted over and over again by people demanding earthly things; claiming unrealistic expectations upon him to change their trappings while here on earth. How many times do we hear “if you had been here...” How often do our prayers go in the same direction? How often are we putting expectations on God to change our earthly situation to what we think is best, rather than trying to focus on God’s work happening in God’s time?
I want to challenge us to NOT think about how we are bound to earthly trappings right now. Instead, I want to ask some very specific questions for you to think about this week.
Who do we see in our community that has been bound – by despair, by depression, by pain. Who do we see in our church that has been bound? The signs are there – smiles that don’t quite reach the eyes, seemingly odd comments that suggest that something’s not quite right. We can choose to ignore these signs, or we can choose to engage them. When we engage, we might be able to start a process of unbinding – and when that happens, God rejoices.
Now, who have YOU bound? During our Lenten prayers we specifically ask for God’s forgiveness for those whom we have injured or offended – but do we give it more thought than that? Or do we simply move on to the next intercession? Each of us has done something which has, in some way, caused another to be bound. An unkind word, or inappropriate joke, can have a very negative impact on another without is even realising it. We do not choose to bind the people we love, but it happens when we are focusing on ourselves rather than on the world around us.
So the process of binding is a human one – the process of unbinding is God’s work through human hands. Jesus has raised Lazarus, yet tells the witnesses that they are the ones to unbind him so that he might go back to his worldly place. Jesus is bringing others into God’s work, as a way to get people involved. To realise that the Kingdom of God will come about from the work of many people, not just Jesus’ appearance.
So if our work is to go out into the world and unbind people, it suggests then that God has already been at work in these people, in raising them from their own depths. God’s work is mysterious, and illogical, and perfectly wonderful. And we are being invited to be a part of that work, to recognise that God is always giving people what they need for life – and for new life – but that sometimes they need a helping hand. That their full potential to contribute to the Kingdom is still in some way being hampered by their trappings, their bindings. At any time we can walk into the world and see someone who has been raised from a type of death. And when choose to focus on our spiritual potential, we see that we can help others to be unbound. And who knows, maybe we ourselves will be a bit unbound in the process.
In this story, we church-folk are not the Lazarus people – we believe that we have already received new life, that we are a people of salvation and we do our best to remember that every moment of every day. Rather, we are the witnesses to God’s wonders. We’re the ones standing around with our mouths open in shock, even though we’ve been told to expect the unexpected. We are the group to whom Jesus is saying “Hey! You saw what I did, now it’s your turn to do something – go, unbind him, and let him go!”
Sermon, Lent 1
Matthew 4.1-11
LEAD ME NOT INTO TEMPTATION...
These days we use the word temptation a lot. Anywhere you go, you can find it being referenced. It’s a biblical term, it’s used in secular society, it’s out there. But have you given some real thought as to what it means?
We are often faced with temptation. For some of us, it means an indulgence. We’re tempted to have one more coffee, one more piece of chocolate cake, one more hour in bed. These temptations are really just an opportunity for us to pamper ourselves, to give in to some small and harmless thing that we want. This past week in Toronto for meetings, there was a Starbucks right outside the hotel. Each morning I had the bright green sign of temptation greeting me as I walked outside!
This is the level of ‘temptation’ that we hear about in advertising, it’s a tease to try to inspire us to choose to do or buy or eat something. The impression that we get from these messages is that we will feel physically rewarded for having given into the temptation – whatever it is. My succumbing to the temptation of an over-priced Starbucks coffee wasn’t just a chance to enjoy a tasty beverage, but to immerse myself in the experience of splurging for myself – the aroma, the warmth, the music in the background... Could I have lived without it? Of course – quite easily, if I’m honest. But it was such a lovely treat that the temptation, in this sense, was worth it.
For some a temptation comes in the form of a valid addiction – it may be drugs or alcohol, cigarettes, etc.. These temptations are quite a bit more serious, as they are influencing our very body chemistry. If we deny ourselves our addiction, we go into withdrawal; and when we give in our brains get a rush of serotonin and suddenly all seems right with the world again – until we need our next ‘fix’.
Here, because temptation is connected with the very chemical make-up of our bodies, it is a lot more difficult to break away from. When we have become dependent on something, our bodies literally revolt against us when we deny ourselves – for better or for worse. Watching someone go through withdrawal pains is a difficult thing to do, and as the suffering continues (often for days or weeks) the temptation to give in and return to the addiction increases. Think of someone trying to quit smoking. Even if an addict logically understands the benefits of denying temptation, the physical need is often too overpowering for them – and giving in to that temptation seems the only way for them to continue.
The worst kind of temptation, however, is what we are hearing about today in the Gospel. We are hearing about Spiritual temptation. Not simply an indulgence or physical desire, but an assault on our very souls. Here temptation has a clear voice and persona, in the form of the devil – the Greek words used literally mean the tempter, the slanderer, the accuser, the adversary. Given the personal name of Satan, Jesus faces his temptor head-on. Satan offers him the chance to not suffer through denial; to prove himself worthy and pride-fully; and to rule and control the multitudes without challenge. These are all very human temptations, and all of us have fallen trap to them at some level in our lives. We’re human – it happens.
Yet Jesus sees the real meaning in the devil’s words. By fasting, Jesus was choosing to let his body go without so that his mind and spirit might be more focused on what matters. He would have provided the bare necessities for sustenance. Satan points out to him that he could easily eat more, and break his fast, and that no one would know about it. Turning stones into bread would fill his stomach and re-build his physical strength. But Jesus knew that it would mean that he would have cheated. Cheated in his fast, cheated his spiritual journey, cheated himself. And cheated God. And he was very clear that he was not willing to do that.
When Satan tries to get Jesus to prove just what he is capable of doing physically, it is a test of pride. This is the school-yard bully challenging a kid to lick a metal pole. It’s the taunting of physical challenge, but Jesus sees in it the vanity and ill pride of responding. Were he to throw himself down and be lifted up by angels, he would be doing it for his own glory, and nothing in the action would be to the better glory of God. That would be putting himself above God, and again missing the point of his time of spiritual reflection and introspection. Which he was not willing to do.
Satan’s third challenge spoke directly to the human desire to have and to control. ‘Just worship me,’ he says, ‘and I’ll give you a bunch of stuff’. Sounds familiar to unethical bonuses that we hear about these days in some business experiences. ‘Just ignore the ethics, and we’ll give you a bonus. Just do what we need for our gain, and we’ll buy you off.’ And Jesus realises that this is not a test for human gain, but a temptation toward earthly things. Had Jesus given in to the temptation – and it was not insignificant what the devil was offering – he would have put earthly trappings ahead of God, ahead of his true being.
As we engage in our season of Lent, we are all of us reflecting on our own weaknesses. We are acknowledging our human frailty and failings, and facing our own devils. We may falter in our attempt to deny ourselves the temptations of indulgence or addiction; we are, after all, only human.
However, we must focus on seeing the negative spiritual forces in our lives that aim to draw us away from a true and deep relationship with God. Just as the devil knew how to most tempt Jesus, the devil knows how to most tempt each and every one of us. Our temptations will be different, and relate to our weaknesses – what one person craves another may have no desire for. But each of us, in this season, is being reminded of a few lessons from the Christ:
• We are reminded that temptation will find us no matter where we go.
• We know that temptation will be strongest when we are alone, without our supporting community around us.
• We know that temptation will be a repeated experience, and that each and every time we face the tempter we will be challenged anew.
• And yet, we can also celebrate that we have, deep within us, the strength and faith to remain connected to God.
• We delight in the knowledge that when we choose a closer relationship with God over earthly temptations, that we are journeying with Christ.
• We believe in the strength of hope and tradition and teachings – we have been promised all that we need through the bible, and we believe that all things necessary for salvation are to be found within the Holy Scriptures.
We have been given every tool we need to look in the face of spiritual temptation – whatever its name might be – and to deny it as strongly as Jesus did. I pray that as we continue through this time of prayer, reflection, and fasting, that we find strength from our Lord and Saviour to continually battle the forces of darkness, and thus to emerge more abundantly than ever into the true light.
LEAD ME NOT INTO TEMPTATION...
These days we use the word temptation a lot. Anywhere you go, you can find it being referenced. It’s a biblical term, it’s used in secular society, it’s out there. But have you given some real thought as to what it means?
We are often faced with temptation. For some of us, it means an indulgence. We’re tempted to have one more coffee, one more piece of chocolate cake, one more hour in bed. These temptations are really just an opportunity for us to pamper ourselves, to give in to some small and harmless thing that we want. This past week in Toronto for meetings, there was a Starbucks right outside the hotel. Each morning I had the bright green sign of temptation greeting me as I walked outside!
This is the level of ‘temptation’ that we hear about in advertising, it’s a tease to try to inspire us to choose to do or buy or eat something. The impression that we get from these messages is that we will feel physically rewarded for having given into the temptation – whatever it is. My succumbing to the temptation of an over-priced Starbucks coffee wasn’t just a chance to enjoy a tasty beverage, but to immerse myself in the experience of splurging for myself – the aroma, the warmth, the music in the background... Could I have lived without it? Of course – quite easily, if I’m honest. But it was such a lovely treat that the temptation, in this sense, was worth it.
For some a temptation comes in the form of a valid addiction – it may be drugs or alcohol, cigarettes, etc.. These temptations are quite a bit more serious, as they are influencing our very body chemistry. If we deny ourselves our addiction, we go into withdrawal; and when we give in our brains get a rush of serotonin and suddenly all seems right with the world again – until we need our next ‘fix’.
Here, because temptation is connected with the very chemical make-up of our bodies, it is a lot more difficult to break away from. When we have become dependent on something, our bodies literally revolt against us when we deny ourselves – for better or for worse. Watching someone go through withdrawal pains is a difficult thing to do, and as the suffering continues (often for days or weeks) the temptation to give in and return to the addiction increases. Think of someone trying to quit smoking. Even if an addict logically understands the benefits of denying temptation, the physical need is often too overpowering for them – and giving in to that temptation seems the only way for them to continue.
The worst kind of temptation, however, is what we are hearing about today in the Gospel. We are hearing about Spiritual temptation. Not simply an indulgence or physical desire, but an assault on our very souls. Here temptation has a clear voice and persona, in the form of the devil – the Greek words used literally mean the tempter, the slanderer, the accuser, the adversary. Given the personal name of Satan, Jesus faces his temptor head-on. Satan offers him the chance to not suffer through denial; to prove himself worthy and pride-fully; and to rule and control the multitudes without challenge. These are all very human temptations, and all of us have fallen trap to them at some level in our lives. We’re human – it happens.
Yet Jesus sees the real meaning in the devil’s words. By fasting, Jesus was choosing to let his body go without so that his mind and spirit might be more focused on what matters. He would have provided the bare necessities for sustenance. Satan points out to him that he could easily eat more, and break his fast, and that no one would know about it. Turning stones into bread would fill his stomach and re-build his physical strength. But Jesus knew that it would mean that he would have cheated. Cheated in his fast, cheated his spiritual journey, cheated himself. And cheated God. And he was very clear that he was not willing to do that.
When Satan tries to get Jesus to prove just what he is capable of doing physically, it is a test of pride. This is the school-yard bully challenging a kid to lick a metal pole. It’s the taunting of physical challenge, but Jesus sees in it the vanity and ill pride of responding. Were he to throw himself down and be lifted up by angels, he would be doing it for his own glory, and nothing in the action would be to the better glory of God. That would be putting himself above God, and again missing the point of his time of spiritual reflection and introspection. Which he was not willing to do.
Satan’s third challenge spoke directly to the human desire to have and to control. ‘Just worship me,’ he says, ‘and I’ll give you a bunch of stuff’. Sounds familiar to unethical bonuses that we hear about these days in some business experiences. ‘Just ignore the ethics, and we’ll give you a bonus. Just do what we need for our gain, and we’ll buy you off.’ And Jesus realises that this is not a test for human gain, but a temptation toward earthly things. Had Jesus given in to the temptation – and it was not insignificant what the devil was offering – he would have put earthly trappings ahead of God, ahead of his true being.
As we engage in our season of Lent, we are all of us reflecting on our own weaknesses. We are acknowledging our human frailty and failings, and facing our own devils. We may falter in our attempt to deny ourselves the temptations of indulgence or addiction; we are, after all, only human.
However, we must focus on seeing the negative spiritual forces in our lives that aim to draw us away from a true and deep relationship with God. Just as the devil knew how to most tempt Jesus, the devil knows how to most tempt each and every one of us. Our temptations will be different, and relate to our weaknesses – what one person craves another may have no desire for. But each of us, in this season, is being reminded of a few lessons from the Christ:
• We are reminded that temptation will find us no matter where we go.
• We know that temptation will be strongest when we are alone, without our supporting community around us.
• We know that temptation will be a repeated experience, and that each and every time we face the tempter we will be challenged anew.
• And yet, we can also celebrate that we have, deep within us, the strength and faith to remain connected to God.
• We delight in the knowledge that when we choose a closer relationship with God over earthly temptations, that we are journeying with Christ.
• We believe in the strength of hope and tradition and teachings – we have been promised all that we need through the bible, and we believe that all things necessary for salvation are to be found within the Holy Scriptures.
We have been given every tool we need to look in the face of spiritual temptation – whatever its name might be – and to deny it as strongly as Jesus did. I pray that as we continue through this time of prayer, reflection, and fasting, that we find strength from our Lord and Saviour to continually battle the forces of darkness, and thus to emerge more abundantly than ever into the true light.
05 February 2011
Sermon (5th Sunday after Epiphany: 06 Feb 2011)
I was wrong. Very wrong. See, I like salty stuff. I prefer it to sweets – popcorn, cheesy nachos, you get the idea. I enjoy salt so much that I would add it to most of my food at the table. The problem became that I was adding all this extra salt before I had even tasted the food – and so, I was getting used to too much salt. So when I cut it out, all food suddenly tasted bland. It took a while just to get used to the fact that I could taste food without the salt. I had trained my tastebuds and expectations so much that a healthy amount of salt had, in fact, lost its taste. Had I kept on in that path, I would constantly need more and more salt just to realise that I was tasting any of it. We can all imagine how my blood pressure would have gone up and up and up – until my health really suffered from it.
So now, I use salt sparingly. I don’t keep the salt mill on the table, I try other seasonings before going for the salt. There are some things that really benefit from salt, like eggs, and so I will use a little bit then. But I try to be careful not to get trapped again in the TOO MUCH category.
So my question this morning is, how much is too much? Well, with salt, the government has given us guidelines so we don't poison ourselves. And with product labelling, it can be easily measured. With light, we can measure ourselves. We can turn off lights in spaces we’re not using, we can contain open flames to prevent disasters. And laws – well, they’re very clearly spelled out for us. And if we have any questions about them, our friendly RCMP will be glad to help us out.
So what about sin? How much is too much? How much can we sin, and still get into heaven? How much can we ‘get away with’ before we’re caught? Well, this is where we start to rationalise again... it was a little white lie to protect his feelings; I wouldn’t have been paying attention in church anyway so I came golfing; I *meant* to tithe but then there was a great sale on shoes; God would want me outside on such a gorgeous day rather than sitting inside reading the Bible; I’ll say extra prayers tomorrow, today’s the SuperBowl!... well, you get the idea. And we all do it. Unfortunately, we all do it too often. We ignore the basic commandment to love God because we think no one will know about our actions. Or that we get a certain number of ‘get out of jail free’ cards when it comes to sin.
There’s a movie that came out last year, called “The Invention of Lying” with Ricky Gervais. The basic premise is that no one can lie, ever. Until Ricky’s character tells his dying mother about a wonderful after-life. Word gets out that he has information no one else has, and because no one can lie, he’s believed completely. He’s immediately launched into a media circus as people want more information; so he starts telling people about the Man in the Sky who allows you into this great after-life if you don’t sin too much – and that you’re allowed 3 sins.
It’s an interesting premise, and sadly, one that we tend to subscribe to. When we rationalise away our sins, we start to believe that they aren’t sins anymore. And suddenly, small offenses are no longer seen as offensive. We get so good at rationalising things that the very clear line between sin and righteousness can become blurry. And very quickly, a little becomes a bit more, until suddenly our sin has gotten out of hand – and we’re still feeling that it’s okay. Just by asking the question “How much sin is too much” implies that we’re asking, like the people in the movie, so that we can plan out those sins now, to get more ‘bang for our buck’ as it were. Not a good place to be from – because then we are planning to sin.
The problem with sin is that it, by definition, takes us away from God. And so when we knowingly sin, and rationalise it, we’re essentially telling God that we know we’ve taken a step away from Him – and that we’re okay with that. So whether it’s a ‘small’ sin (or small step), or a large sin, (a large step), we’re being reminded today that every sin is a step away. And that every step away takes us further and further and further away from God.
So how do we reject the societal pulls that we feel toward sin, and turn to God for strength in the righteous life? How do we not justify our indiscretions when we inadvertently commit them? We begin to ask different questions. We don’t ask how far away we can walk from God before He rejects us, but how we might walk WITH God. As Isaiah tells us, “The LORD will guide you continually, and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail”. We stop deluding ourselves that if we aren’t caught in a sin, we’ve gotten away with it. We hold ourselves accountable. Our psalm reminds us: "Happy are those who fear the LORD, who greatly delight in his commandments." We do not presume to be all-important and self-righteous, but acknowledge our humility like Paul: "so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God."
This week, may we go boldly into the world to share the benefits that we carry within us: let us be a tiny amount of salt to enhance the world around us without overpowering or poisoning, let us be that light which offers guidance and illumination without glaring, let us encourage others to follow limitations by demonstrating the benefits of restriction in our daily lives. May we enter the world, walking as closely with God as we can, to be the honest and loving children that we are called to be.
30 January 2011
Epiphany+4 sermon - Matthew 5:1-12
This morning I want to talk a bit about attitude. Not the parental “we need to talk about your attitude” kind of lecture, but about what an attitude really is – what it means.
The word attitude comes to us from the fields of science and engineering – it refers to an angle, a geometric positioning of something. For example, an airplane’s attitude is it’s tilt, the amount of turn it’s getting to guide us safely through our travels (ideally without spilling our coffee on our laps!). The attitude of a plane will help to direct it’s course.
So an attitude for a person is an abstract concept – it’s an angle, a way of perceiving things. And just like the attitude of a plane, it can tilt; it can change. And it definitely can direct how our lives are played out. We can have a bad attitude, which will lead us into trouble: negativity, anger, pessimism – the ‘grey days’ of our lives. Or we can have a good attitude which will lead us away from trouble, into positivity, happiness, optimism – the sunny days.
The important thing about our attitudes is that we get to choose. I am NOT suggesting that difficult times don’t happen. Turbulance is a reality for airplanes; it’s also a reality for our lives. But we can decide how to cope with that turbulence based on our attitudes. It’s how we react in turbulent times (bad situations) that really shows us what our attitude is. It’s easy to be positive when things are going well – but when things are shaky and we can still do our best to be positive, it shows that we want our planes to be as stable and safe as possible. When things get shaky and we focus on the negative attitude, well, our ‘plane’ starts to go down – fast.
So how do you think your attitude is? Wait, ignore that question, that gets back to the parent-lecturing-recalcitrant-teenager thing.
How do you think the attitude is within our parish? Now is the time to reflect on the past year. Where is our tilt? Why the past year? Well, it’s been one year since you welcomed me here as your rector. And so I’ve been giving a lot of thought to this time together. And I’d like to share some of my thoughts – not on specific, concrete examples – you’ve heard those in the AGMs, but on the abstract. We entered into this time of change, not fully knowing what to expect. But we came into this new reality with a good attitude. We had the attitude not to DO, but to BE.
We decided to cast aside the to-do list of what we’ve always done. I haven’t heard in this parish the seven words to kill a church - the “We’ve never done it that way before.” Instead I’ve heard ways to grow a community - “We can try it” and “We can do it” have been the responses to suggestions for change. Within our parish, there has been a lot of talk – not complaining about how great things used to be (well, we all get nostalgic at times!) but instead celebrating where we are now and continually re-focusing on the present and the future. We are realistic – which is a good thing – but we are a people full of hope and faith. Our positive attitude towards being a Christian community has allowed us to open up into our towns and to let others know just how we are BEING thing body of Christ.
Our worship services have been full of life and joy – and often laughter. We practice our faith not only with the words out of our lips on a church day, but with the actions of our lives every day of the week. I have seen people go out of their way to demonstrate their Christian beliefs with those they encounter. Maybe our liturgy wouldn’t win awards – we sometimes sing off-key, we fumble over some of those names in the scriptures, we drop our books. And that’s okay. Because what matters – the intention of our hearts to give praise and thanksgiving to God – is as good as it gets. Our attitude in worship is to not try to DO things perfectly, but to BE the Christians that God calls us to be.
I have challenged you to think about your faith in different ways this year, and those have been welcomed. In my service to the wider church through the PWRDF, we, as a community, are learning more about ways that Anglicans enact justice around the world. We have learned and acted on other justice initiatives like the Millennium Development Goals, thinking about how justice for all is an extension of our basic doctrinal beliefs, like the Micah Challenge that we heard again this morning. We have explored the possibility of how environmental stewardship is so basic to our existence, and therefore plays a key role in how we act on what we believe. There have been others, and there will continue to be others. This type of thinking and praying may not be how some folks DO their faith development, but our willingness to think outside the box allows us to BE the kind of Christians who embrace their faith in all aspects of our lives.
There are many ways in which Christ calls for us to BE, rather than to DO. Because, when we have a BE attitude, rather than DO checklist, what we accomplish will reflect that. Actions and skills can be taught to anyone; attitudes, however, will guide and direct actions and skills without the need for teaching. When we have the BE attitude about our faith, what we do will be blessed by the joy in the Lord that flows from within.
The Gospel reading today is called ‘the Beatitudes.’ This is because the latin word for the verb “to bless” is beati. So Jesus is encouraging people to work within a positive attitude, no matter what their situation, no matter what hardships they have endured. He is blessing those people who have decided to have a positive, BE-attitude toward life and faith and ministry. Christ is blessing those who will take action toward peace and justice as a result of their good attitudes. Christ is speaking to everyone, of all time and space, to remind them that although life isn’t fair or easy, it can be a chance to celebrate the simplicities that bring true joy: that we are loved as children of God. Blessed BE.
“Blessed are the poor – not the penniless, but those whose hearts are free.
Blessed are those who mourn – not those who wimper but those who raise their voices.
Blessed are the meek - not the soft but those who are patient and tolerant.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice – not those who whine but those who struggle.
Blessed are the merciful – not those who forget but those who forgive.
Blessed are the pure in heart – not those who act like angels but those whose life is transparent.
Blessed are the peace-makers – not those who shun conflict but those who face it squarely.
Blessed are those who are persecuted for justice – not because they suffer but because they love.”
*Prayer from “In God’s Hands: Common Prayer for the World”
The word attitude comes to us from the fields of science and engineering – it refers to an angle, a geometric positioning of something. For example, an airplane’s attitude is it’s tilt, the amount of turn it’s getting to guide us safely through our travels (ideally without spilling our coffee on our laps!). The attitude of a plane will help to direct it’s course.
So an attitude for a person is an abstract concept – it’s an angle, a way of perceiving things. And just like the attitude of a plane, it can tilt; it can change. And it definitely can direct how our lives are played out. We can have a bad attitude, which will lead us into trouble: negativity, anger, pessimism – the ‘grey days’ of our lives. Or we can have a good attitude which will lead us away from trouble, into positivity, happiness, optimism – the sunny days.
The important thing about our attitudes is that we get to choose. I am NOT suggesting that difficult times don’t happen. Turbulance is a reality for airplanes; it’s also a reality for our lives. But we can decide how to cope with that turbulence based on our attitudes. It’s how we react in turbulent times (bad situations) that really shows us what our attitude is. It’s easy to be positive when things are going well – but when things are shaky and we can still do our best to be positive, it shows that we want our planes to be as stable and safe as possible. When things get shaky and we focus on the negative attitude, well, our ‘plane’ starts to go down – fast.
So how do you think your attitude is? Wait, ignore that question, that gets back to the parent-lecturing-recalcitrant-teenager thing.
How do you think the attitude is within our parish? Now is the time to reflect on the past year. Where is our tilt? Why the past year? Well, it’s been one year since you welcomed me here as your rector. And so I’ve been giving a lot of thought to this time together. And I’d like to share some of my thoughts – not on specific, concrete examples – you’ve heard those in the AGMs, but on the abstract. We entered into this time of change, not fully knowing what to expect. But we came into this new reality with a good attitude. We had the attitude not to DO, but to BE.
We decided to cast aside the to-do list of what we’ve always done. I haven’t heard in this parish the seven words to kill a church - the “We’ve never done it that way before.” Instead I’ve heard ways to grow a community - “We can try it” and “We can do it” have been the responses to suggestions for change. Within our parish, there has been a lot of talk – not complaining about how great things used to be (well, we all get nostalgic at times!) but instead celebrating where we are now and continually re-focusing on the present and the future. We are realistic – which is a good thing – but we are a people full of hope and faith. Our positive attitude towards being a Christian community has allowed us to open up into our towns and to let others know just how we are BEING thing body of Christ.
Our worship services have been full of life and joy – and often laughter. We practice our faith not only with the words out of our lips on a church day, but with the actions of our lives every day of the week. I have seen people go out of their way to demonstrate their Christian beliefs with those they encounter. Maybe our liturgy wouldn’t win awards – we sometimes sing off-key, we fumble over some of those names in the scriptures, we drop our books. And that’s okay. Because what matters – the intention of our hearts to give praise and thanksgiving to God – is as good as it gets. Our attitude in worship is to not try to DO things perfectly, but to BE the Christians that God calls us to be.
I have challenged you to think about your faith in different ways this year, and those have been welcomed. In my service to the wider church through the PWRDF, we, as a community, are learning more about ways that Anglicans enact justice around the world. We have learned and acted on other justice initiatives like the Millennium Development Goals, thinking about how justice for all is an extension of our basic doctrinal beliefs, like the Micah Challenge that we heard again this morning. We have explored the possibility of how environmental stewardship is so basic to our existence, and therefore plays a key role in how we act on what we believe. There have been others, and there will continue to be others. This type of thinking and praying may not be how some folks DO their faith development, but our willingness to think outside the box allows us to BE the kind of Christians who embrace their faith in all aspects of our lives.
There are many ways in which Christ calls for us to BE, rather than to DO. Because, when we have a BE attitude, rather than DO checklist, what we accomplish will reflect that. Actions and skills can be taught to anyone; attitudes, however, will guide and direct actions and skills without the need for teaching. When we have the BE attitude about our faith, what we do will be blessed by the joy in the Lord that flows from within.
The Gospel reading today is called ‘the Beatitudes.’ This is because the latin word for the verb “to bless” is beati. So Jesus is encouraging people to work within a positive attitude, no matter what their situation, no matter what hardships they have endured. He is blessing those people who have decided to have a positive, BE-attitude toward life and faith and ministry. Christ is blessing those who will take action toward peace and justice as a result of their good attitudes. Christ is speaking to everyone, of all time and space, to remind them that although life isn’t fair or easy, it can be a chance to celebrate the simplicities that bring true joy: that we are loved as children of God. Blessed BE.
“Blessed are the poor – not the penniless, but those whose hearts are free.
Blessed are those who mourn – not those who wimper but those who raise their voices.
Blessed are the meek - not the soft but those who are patient and tolerant.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice – not those who whine but those who struggle.
Blessed are the merciful – not those who forget but those who forgive.
Blessed are the pure in heart – not those who act like angels but those whose life is transparent.
Blessed are the peace-makers – not those who shun conflict but those who face it squarely.
Blessed are those who are persecuted for justice – not because they suffer but because they love.”
*Prayer from “In God’s Hands: Common Prayer for the World”
18 January 2011
Knowing Your Work (sermon, Epiphany +2; John 1:29-42)
A story from Steven Covey:
Once upon a time a very strong woodcutter asked for a job in a timber merchant, and he got it. The paid was really good and so were the work conditions. For that reason, the woodcutter was determined to do his best.
His boss gave him an axe and showed him the area where he was supposed to work.
The first day, the woodcutter brought 18 trees
"Congratulations," the boss said. "Go on that way!"
Very motivated for the boss’ words, the woodcutter try harder the next day, but he only could bring 15 trees. The third day he try even harder, but he only could bring 10 trees.Day after day he was bringing less and less trees.
"I must be losing my strength", the woodcutter thought. He went to the boss and apologized, saying that he could not understand what was going on.
"When was the last time you sharpened your axe?" the boss asked.
"Sharpen? I had no time to sharpen my axe. I have been very busy trying to cut trees..."
There’s a lot that can be learned from our woodcutter friend.
He has a lot of passion for what he’s doing – he wants to do the job right, so that he can benefit from his labours. The pay and working conditions are great and suit him well, so he wants to maintain them. And so, he focuses only on the end result – the number of trees he can cut down in a day.
While he knows the mechanics of his job, he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. Anyone who has ever cut down any trees knows that the first thing you do is prepare your equipment – without a sharp axe, you’re going to be out of work, and strength, very quickly. And equipment needs to be checked and maintained on a regular basis to ensure it’s in good working order.
We also learn that this poor woodcutter could do his job better if there was someone else with him – someone who could offer a different perspective, like reminding him that his axe was getting dull. I imagine he would also feel safer out in the woods if there was someone else there: to joke around with, to be witness to the work, to be present in case of emergency, etc. We also know we tend to work better in community – someone else will help keep us from getting distracted, will remind us of when our focus is going astray, will in general make the time go faster.
The woodcutter also teaches us that sometimes we don’t know everything – and that it’s okay to ask for help when we realise that fact. Imagine how few trees he would have been cutting down by weeks’ end had he not mentioned his confusion to his boss on the third day!
We also learn, by extrapolation, that not everyone is meant for every job. This woodcutter, for example, is good at what he does, but he would fail at other more logistical occupations. The boss, however, may be in a different predicament. He supplied the axe, but didn’t see to its upkeep. That being said, he was able to ascertain the problem the woodcutter was facing right away – he’s a good problem solver. He also presents as patient enough, not firing the woodcutter for the smaller number of trees, but engaging with him in conversation, and allowing him (presumably) the chance to improve.
We can see these same characteristics, these lessons, in our gospel story today.
There is a great passion to do the right thing. John is quite emphatic when he is articulating to his followers as to exactly who Jesus is. He is clearly demonstrating his enthusiasm to them about what he now knows, that Jesus is the Anointed, the Messiah. And his enthusiasm obviously wears off! Andrew goes off to get his brother before they continue on with Jesus. They are realising that Jesus is the right thing, and with him right in front of them, inviting them to join him, their passion grows. How could they do anything BUT to follow him?
Getting ready for work is as important as doing the work itself – think of the dull axe. John’s time with his followers has prepared them to seek truth at all times. By admitting – repeatedly – that he had not fully known that Jesus was the Christ, he is getting his disciples ready to go in a different direction. He is letting them know that everything – everything! – has changed because of the fulfillment of the scriptures. It’s okay that John didn’t have all the answers at the time of the baptism, because he has now changed as the full implication of that event has changed his life and ministry. John’s light bulb has gone on, and is now going to illuminate the rest of his life.
The notion of companionship is equally important for us as we follow this story – we see that two of John’s disciples (his followers) leave him to go and follow Jesus. Andrew is so enthusiastic about this new course that he goes and fetches his brother to come with them! And all throughout his ministry, we see Jesus sending out his followers in pairs – so they will have someone with them to offer a different perspective, different suggestions. Someone with whom they can establish a camaraderie to ease the burden of their task. Someone to look after their safety, to keep focus on the ultimate goal, to prevent distractions. Any work is easier with a buddy.
The disciples also teach us about learning. They have seen from John that learning has to continue. They have been invited by Jesus to learn more about God and God’s will for His people. They have learned that leadership by example is the best way to do things – Jesus invites them to see where he is staying rather than tell them, he encourages them to be of a discerning heart and mind by asking them what it is that they are looking for. Obviously the time they spend with in conversation with Jesus is so illuminating that Andrew wants to include his brother so that Simon also may learn.
We also can see that not everyone is meant for every task. John encourages his followers to go with Jesus, but he himself does not follow. Why is this? Well, his task was to prepare the way for Jesus to come. He has accomplished this, and knows that it is not his task to continue that journey. He also realises that were he to go with Jesus, that the followers would then have 2 leaders to follow, and that would distract their attention away from Jesus. John realises that every task has an end, that every ministry is passed from one person to another. And so it is with joy and grace that he steps back. He is aware that he still has a valuable ministry to complete, but that it is in a different direction.
So what about us? How are you sharing your passion for Christ, the right thing, with the world around you? What are you doing to prepare yourself to enter into the mission zone, that beauteous creation right outside our doors that is so desperate to celebrate Christ? Who can walk with you on your journey, to keep you focused as much as for you to keep them focused? How are you striving to learn more about God’s will so that you can better do your job of sharing His love and grace? And what is your specific task, the job that you are uniquely called to in order to fulfill God’s will that no one else can do? These are our tasks. Our ministries. Our callings. If you can’t answer those questions now, maybe you need to spend some time in prayer thinking about them. Because if we don’t know what our job is, we cannot accomplish it. And God knows, it’s time for us to get to work.
Once upon a time a very strong woodcutter asked for a job in a timber merchant, and he got it. The paid was really good and so were the work conditions. For that reason, the woodcutter was determined to do his best.
His boss gave him an axe and showed him the area where he was supposed to work.
The first day, the woodcutter brought 18 trees
"Congratulations," the boss said. "Go on that way!"
Very motivated for the boss’ words, the woodcutter try harder the next day, but he only could bring 15 trees. The third day he try even harder, but he only could bring 10 trees.Day after day he was bringing less and less trees.
"I must be losing my strength", the woodcutter thought. He went to the boss and apologized, saying that he could not understand what was going on.
"When was the last time you sharpened your axe?" the boss asked.
"Sharpen? I had no time to sharpen my axe. I have been very busy trying to cut trees..."
There’s a lot that can be learned from our woodcutter friend.
He has a lot of passion for what he’s doing – he wants to do the job right, so that he can benefit from his labours. The pay and working conditions are great and suit him well, so he wants to maintain them. And so, he focuses only on the end result – the number of trees he can cut down in a day.
While he knows the mechanics of his job, he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. Anyone who has ever cut down any trees knows that the first thing you do is prepare your equipment – without a sharp axe, you’re going to be out of work, and strength, very quickly. And equipment needs to be checked and maintained on a regular basis to ensure it’s in good working order.
We also learn that this poor woodcutter could do his job better if there was someone else with him – someone who could offer a different perspective, like reminding him that his axe was getting dull. I imagine he would also feel safer out in the woods if there was someone else there: to joke around with, to be witness to the work, to be present in case of emergency, etc. We also know we tend to work better in community – someone else will help keep us from getting distracted, will remind us of when our focus is going astray, will in general make the time go faster.
The woodcutter also teaches us that sometimes we don’t know everything – and that it’s okay to ask for help when we realise that fact. Imagine how few trees he would have been cutting down by weeks’ end had he not mentioned his confusion to his boss on the third day!
We also learn, by extrapolation, that not everyone is meant for every job. This woodcutter, for example, is good at what he does, but he would fail at other more logistical occupations. The boss, however, may be in a different predicament. He supplied the axe, but didn’t see to its upkeep. That being said, he was able to ascertain the problem the woodcutter was facing right away – he’s a good problem solver. He also presents as patient enough, not firing the woodcutter for the smaller number of trees, but engaging with him in conversation, and allowing him (presumably) the chance to improve.
We can see these same characteristics, these lessons, in our gospel story today.
There is a great passion to do the right thing. John is quite emphatic when he is articulating to his followers as to exactly who Jesus is. He is clearly demonstrating his enthusiasm to them about what he now knows, that Jesus is the Anointed, the Messiah. And his enthusiasm obviously wears off! Andrew goes off to get his brother before they continue on with Jesus. They are realising that Jesus is the right thing, and with him right in front of them, inviting them to join him, their passion grows. How could they do anything BUT to follow him?
Getting ready for work is as important as doing the work itself – think of the dull axe. John’s time with his followers has prepared them to seek truth at all times. By admitting – repeatedly – that he had not fully known that Jesus was the Christ, he is getting his disciples ready to go in a different direction. He is letting them know that everything – everything! – has changed because of the fulfillment of the scriptures. It’s okay that John didn’t have all the answers at the time of the baptism, because he has now changed as the full implication of that event has changed his life and ministry. John’s light bulb has gone on, and is now going to illuminate the rest of his life.
The notion of companionship is equally important for us as we follow this story – we see that two of John’s disciples (his followers) leave him to go and follow Jesus. Andrew is so enthusiastic about this new course that he goes and fetches his brother to come with them! And all throughout his ministry, we see Jesus sending out his followers in pairs – so they will have someone with them to offer a different perspective, different suggestions. Someone with whom they can establish a camaraderie to ease the burden of their task. Someone to look after their safety, to keep focus on the ultimate goal, to prevent distractions. Any work is easier with a buddy.
The disciples also teach us about learning. They have seen from John that learning has to continue. They have been invited by Jesus to learn more about God and God’s will for His people. They have learned that leadership by example is the best way to do things – Jesus invites them to see where he is staying rather than tell them, he encourages them to be of a discerning heart and mind by asking them what it is that they are looking for. Obviously the time they spend with in conversation with Jesus is so illuminating that Andrew wants to include his brother so that Simon also may learn.
We also can see that not everyone is meant for every task. John encourages his followers to go with Jesus, but he himself does not follow. Why is this? Well, his task was to prepare the way for Jesus to come. He has accomplished this, and knows that it is not his task to continue that journey. He also realises that were he to go with Jesus, that the followers would then have 2 leaders to follow, and that would distract their attention away from Jesus. John realises that every task has an end, that every ministry is passed from one person to another. And so it is with joy and grace that he steps back. He is aware that he still has a valuable ministry to complete, but that it is in a different direction.
So what about us? How are you sharing your passion for Christ, the right thing, with the world around you? What are you doing to prepare yourself to enter into the mission zone, that beauteous creation right outside our doors that is so desperate to celebrate Christ? Who can walk with you on your journey, to keep you focused as much as for you to keep them focused? How are you striving to learn more about God’s will so that you can better do your job of sharing His love and grace? And what is your specific task, the job that you are uniquely called to in order to fulfill God’s will that no one else can do? These are our tasks. Our ministries. Our callings. If you can’t answer those questions now, maybe you need to spend some time in prayer thinking about them. Because if we don’t know what our job is, we cannot accomplish it. And God knows, it’s time for us to get to work.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)