30 August 2015

Sex, Religion, and Politics (a sermon)

Well, we're back to Mark this morning, after our delightful sojourn into John 6. We're also back, you'll be happy to know, to a quiz-free sermon. What we're still with, however, is some great messages that are just as relevant today as they were when they were first shared.
And the messages talk about the stuff that isn't necessarily normal dinner conversation. In fact, they kinda go against everything we're told is polite dinner conversation. Three things NOT to bring up at a dinner party? Sex, religion, politics. Three things brought up in today's readings? Sex, religion, politics.
(An aside - if you have friends or family that say the bible or church is boring, today's a day to pay attention and prove them wrong.)
So let's start off with the sex.
The first reading we heard today comes from the Song of Solomon, or the Song of Songs. This is a book of scripture where Solomon (the groom), and his bride describe their love and longing for one another. They praise one another, they look for one another, they delight in one another - yes, that's a polite way of saying exactly what you think it does. They're human. They're hopelessly in love. And it's that love that they celebrate in these verses. It's a love that is all-consuming, and overpowers all else. It's a love that is thought to be an allegory of the relationship between God and the chosen people Israel, and the relationship between Christ and his Church. Love that is so pure and so committed and so complete that it years for some appropriate, natural, deliciously intimate form of physical expression.
'The voice of my beloved speaks and says to me: "Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away." '
The Psalm today isn't too much different, is it? It celebrates love as well. Love that we do understand - love in human form.  "My heart overflows" and "the most handsome of men" and "daughters of kings are among your ladies of honour". Good stuff here. Love expressed, as we mere mortals can understand it. YET, never forgetting that love, including this physical love, comes to us from God, as a gracious blessing. *happy sigh*
Alrighty then. Let's talk religion next.
In the letter of James, this passage ends with "Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world." So basically: be generous, be doers.
That's something that isn't necessarily an easy lesson to hear. Recent research suggests that we, as humans, need to learn how to be generous. We need to learn that loving our neighbours is the right thing to do.
As Christians, we have the perfect example. We have been given the gift of Christ himself to remind us that we are called to be loving, giving people. James is reminding us that the world is not just about getting our own wants and needs met, but about helping out other people. Doing the nice thing for someone else. Sharing a kindness, not because we have to, but because we want to. And we want to, because we have embraced our role in the family of God. Religion, we know, cannot be done as an individual thing. No, religion, albeit a human institution, is a collection of beliefs that provide an order to the chaos, a structure to life, a way of being to those who follow.
And for us, as Christ-followers, part of our religion requires us to be generous. To give without expectation of return. To share - and to realise that what we are sharing is not our own, but something that has been given to us already as a perfect gift.
And so our understanding of religion can shift here, thanks to James' letter reminding us of just how we are called to be: unstained by the world. Not cynical, not judgemental, not angry. No, our place within religion is to be (and act accordingly!) as the beloved: "quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger." We're called to be the religious, in the world but not of the world,, embracing the truth that "Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights." *another happy sigh*
So! On to politics. One of my favourite topics.
Jesus, when confronted by the Pharisees, makes a great and public declaration: “Listen to me, all of you, and understand!” By doing this, he makes sure that this message can be received by anyone - everyone - who wishes. It's no longer just the Pharisees insulting one small group of people, it's now a lesson for all to hear. That's important - it's Jesus once again bringing the issues at hand into the public square, the public discussion, the public awareness. He's allowing them to get political - because 'politics' literally means of, for, or relating to citizens. And that's exactly to whom Jesus is speaking.
The message that Jesus shares is an important one differentiating between what is earthly and what is Godly; what is the societal norm and what is the heavenly reality. So, using the food example, Jesus reminds folks - including us - that what we eat is going to literally go right through us; our food is earthly, it stays in this realm. Our food, our eating habits, our table manners, do not defile us.
So what CAN defile us? Well, what we say, what we do, and how we justify our actions.
Thinking about this, we might wonder where it's coming from.  Jesus has just been approached by some Pharisees, who have gone out of their way to insult him. They’ve shared their unsolicited opinion on how Jesus and his disciples have broken tradition, broken God’s law, by not washing their hands before eating. Now these Pharisees aren’t known for being compassionate folks – they’re known for being harsh and judgemental and critical of anyone and everyone who doesn’t live up to their (unattainable) standards. These are folks who have even turned against their own families, friends, neighbours with their sharp tongues and acerbic assessments; denying so-called “unworthy” people access to the synagogue, to the teachings, to the community of faith.
It is in front of these folks that Jesus calls to the crowd - the people, over whom governance and influence are being practiced by the Pharisees and their friends. It's to these people that Jesus says Listen, all of you, and understand. He’s letting the people know that the judgement of this world is not the judgement of God. He's telling all of us this - reminding us that we are all worthy and loved in the eyes of God. Jesus is reminding them that true authority does not come from a few self-chosen elite humans who are themselves imperfect.
It’s a bold move by Jesus; it’s a stark statement that he is making to the Pharisees and to the crowds. He’s setting the foundation for a shift of power away from human rulers and toward God; a shift from a focus on the set of laws and habits to a focus on living and loving. He's changing the political set-up.
And he's inviting the people to do the same. Not by simply embracing a new political structure or theory, but by recognising that the politics of this life are temporal, and therefore temporary. He's reminding them - and us! - that the best thing we can do is love, and act lovingly. That is the political framework Jesus would have us follow, where we do not defile ourselves by doing hurtful things, even if the human law indicates it acceptable. Rather, we're called into the politics of God - "of, for, and relating to citizens" (not of the earth, but of God's kingdom). We're called into the politics of God that inspires us into actions - of loving service, of generous care, of true and whole-hearted worship. This is the political arena into which we ought to be focusing the majority of our attention. *another happy sigh*
So there you have it. Sex, religion, and politics. On a Sunday morning. From the preacher.
I guess the short version of the sermon could be this: Love wins.

May we come to seek, know and share God's love so completely that it overpowers any human laws that would separate us from God. May the true law of our hearts be an ongoing expression of that love.

22 August 2015

Long Sermon, Proper 21 (John 6.56-69)

So once again this week we're journeying through John chapter 6 for the Gospel reading.Quite a journey so far, isn't it? Some good, heavy stuff to tide us through the summer months. A nice diversion from the gospel of Mark that we had been visiting, and will return to next week. John. I love John.
So here's the first quiz of the morning: Has anyone noticed the theme that has pervaded this entire month, that I haven't touched on in my sermons?It's this: Bread.
Bread is the common thread throughout this chapter, throughout these encounters, that weaves them all together into one WOW message, that we hear in today's passage.So let's think back a bit - how has bread been there?
First, we get the feeding of the 5000, where the brave generosity of a young, nameless boy allows Jesus to demonstrate what God's abundance looks like- through bread.
Then, having calmed the storm and walked on water, Jesus and his disciples arrive immediately at Capernaum, and the people there want Jesus to prove that he's as connected as Moses was by providing for them manna - daily bread.Then Jesus tells us he is the bread of life, and rather than merely accepting the gift offered them, the people decry that they want more - "Give us this bread always."Then we hear Jesus saying he's the bread of life, the bread from heaven, the living bread, and he invites us to abide in him and he in us - remember how I spoke of the significance of the bread of life changing who we are and how we engage in the world.WHEW! Cole's notes of a month of sermons. Anyone else need to take a breath?Alrighty. So here we are today - the last passage of the chapter. And: it all starts with bread. The bread that came down from heaven. The bread that promises eternal life.So. Bread. Jesus is bread. Good stuff. Thank you John chapter 6.But we're not done just yet. Next quiz! Did anyone, in paying such rapt attention to the gospel readings this past month, count how many times Jesus says that he is bread, come down from heaven, the flesh and blood which provide eternal life?The answer: 7Now, for some of you, that number 7 is going to pop your head up.  That's because it's a recurring theme in the scriptures - and we've been chatting about it in Bible Study. The reason 7 is such an important number in the bible is that it symbolises completeness. Fulfillment. Totality.So when Jesus says 7 times that he is this living bread, from heaven, and through partaking in this bread we are accepting the gift that is being offered, we're challenged to recognise it through the lens of completion and fullness. In the fullness of time, Jesus is the bread of life. In the completion of the cosmos, Jesus is the bread form heaven. In the totality of all that is, Jesus' flesh and blood bring us to life eternal.Wow, right? Mind blowing. Life changing.And WOW are we on the receiving end of some really great stuff here. Bread. The bread of life. The bread of grace. The bread of promise.  The bread of hope. This is not the bread that will go hard if we leave the bag open, or mouldy if we forget it in the back of the fridge. This isn't the bread that someone would rather it be whole wheat, and someone else wants gluten free. This is the spiritual bread. Nourishment. Daily sustenance that everyone can relate to, and everyone can attain. As Jesus says in verse 58 "the one who eats this bread will live forever."So. Sunday morning quiz number 3: what's the catch?There has to be a catch, right? There has to be SOMETHING in there that is so overwhelming that so many of the people who had decided to follow Jesus are complaining about it, and saying "This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?"So what is so difficult? What is so offensive?It's that we have to choose to follow Jesus' words and examples. We have to believe in God to never be hungry. We're called to trust in Him to never thirst. We're invited to abide in Christ, and to let him abide in us. We are supposed to partake in this great mystery to live forever because of this gift.it doesn't sound that hard, does it? But it can be. It can be very difficult to be one who chooses to follow the ways of Christ. Because the path is not a part-time venture, it's not a weekends-only trek. It's an all-day, every-day commitment to live the life of the people of God.Because when Jesus says "believe in me" - he doesn't mean it to be conditional on what's going on in our daily lives, he's encouraging us to engage in an all-embracing relationship with him, so much so that it highlights and brightens every other relationship we have.When Jesus says "trust in me" - he doesn't mean it to be up for consideration every once in a while, he means it to be an unwavering reality that grows stronger and stronger each day, upon which we can - and ought to - base all of what we do.When Jesus asks for that abiding relationship with us, he's asking that we be changed by that Holy promise of love and hope and grace, and to demonstrate those our lives in this realm (and the next) have been made better for it.When Jesus invites us to partake in the Eucharist, he challenges us to accept that taking part in the foretaste of the Kingdom means we intentionally welcome everyone who comes to the table - whether we want to or not.And that's where it gets hard. That's where our earthly realities give us pause. That's where the folks in today's gospel got hung up. Jesus was asking them to welcome everyone to the table - no matter what their social status (and that was a bigger deal then than now, if you can believe); no matter what their profession; no matter what their belief.Jesus was asking the people who were there to really consider why they were there. Had they gathered because everyone else was gathering? Had they gathered because they only wanted their own immediate needs met? Had they gathered because they were waiting for free food (it's a tactic that still works today!). So whatever their reasons were for gathering around Jesus, he was asking them to change their lives. To believe, to trust, to abide, to take part.Jesus was asking that they live their lives differently, focused on the life yet to come and as a result changing their actions in the life they had right now. Share what you have, as you have received much from God. Embrace those you dislike, for you have been wrapped in God's love. Welcome all, even those who would (and have) hurt you, just as God has received you every time you return.No wonder many in the crowd found it difficult, and offensive. "Give up my status? Swallow my pride? Forgive someone who hurt me? Think of someone else first? Love as I want to be loved? Whoa, this isn't what I signed up for. I just wanted to get stuff - for me. For my family. Not for them - for me."  No wonder people today still find this journey difficult, and offensive.And yet - not everyone turned away. Not everyone was shocked by what Jesus said. Rather, the 12 - the ones individually chosen by Jesus as his apostles - were shocked by the thought of leaving. Simon Peter sums it up nicely. "To whom can we go?" he asks. No one else can offer us what you can. No one else can challenge us to do better the way you do. No one else can inspire us into that complete, fulfilled, other-worldly faith.So here's your final quiz for the morning, and it's something only you and God can answer.What bread sustains you? Are you eating the bread of the earth, which is easier, but temporary? Or are you eating the bread of life, which comes with great responsibility, but also with eternal life-granting benefit? Do you believe and trust in the rewards of this life, or in the life to come? Do you abide in relationship with Christ, or in whatever is popular in society? Do you choose to take part in earthly treasures, or in the heavenly feast?Tough question, to be sure. Worthy of prayerful and careful consideration, I hope. I pray that when you do have the answer, it may be with similar conviction as Simon Peter, who acknowledged his life had been changed, was changed, and would forever be changed by the true and living bread so freely given: "Lord, You have the words of eternal life. We have believed and come to know that you are the Holy One of God."

15 August 2015

Sermon, Proper 20


"Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them."

This is great! This is good news! This is a holy promise!
Except - what does it mean? Have you ever stopped to ponder what it meant to the folks first hearing it, or what it means to us today?
Let's start with the first folks hearing this message. Jesus, in the flesh, is standing there, repeatedly telling people they need to eat his flesh and drink his blood. Obviously, with today's ears, we recognise this as the Eucharist, that great feast that gives us a foretaste of the heavenly banquet. At the time, however, it was likely heard in a very different way, more of a literal interpretation. Eat my flesh, and drink my blood.
Two thoughts:
1. AWKWARD.
2. YUCK.
These are startling images. They're uncomfortable. They're graphic. They're unsettling. And you know what? They're meant to be. Jesus is saying these things in such dramatic ways to do just that - unsettle the people; shake them into a new reality; turn the comfortable status quo on it's head.
These words that John uses are bringing in all sorts of imagery for the folks who are listening to Jesus. It's coarse, it's crude - right back in the beginning of the gospel, when we hear the Word became flesh - not body, not corporal, but flesh. And Jesus, when he says in today's passage, that for the life of the world he will give his own flesh - he's telling people who he is. He's inviting people to make that connection. He's giving them the clue that he IS the Word made incarnate. He IS the Word made flesh that dwelt among us.
And yet, most of the people at the time totally missed out what Jesus was saying. They were stuck on the earthly, literal, eat my flesh, drink my blood message being spoken by the man right in front of them.
In fairness, I'd likely have been in the same interpretive state - caught up in the shock value - the "Awkward" and "Yuck" would overshadow any deeper wisdom.
I wonder if I still do that? Of course I do. I get caught up on earthly things, present realities, literal here-and-now stuff. It's easy - the here and now is full of shiny objects, interesting things, realities that can keep my attention trapped here. To stay at the surface level, face value, what you see is what you get.
Yet Jesus is giving an invitation - to the Jews in today's Gospel, and to all of us who have followed, to dig deeper. We're all being encouraged to be aware of the times when we focus not on spiritual things, but earthly things. And when we become aware of those earth-centred thoughts and actions, we're being encouraged to re-focus our attention on the spiritual side of things. We're being gently reminded that Spiritual Wisdom is better than earthy knowledge.
As a sideline, I think it was very clever of the folks who put together the lectionary to connect this reading with the passage from the Book of Kings - Solomon is asked what he wants - and rather than focus on the earthly riches that he could have, he asks for that Spiritual Wisdom to help him be a good and Godly leader to God's people. The focus shifts from the earthly, immediate reward to the Spiritual, truly life-giving reality.
But let's shift back to the Gospel, to the message Jesus is sharing, and let's be grateful that we've had time and context to develop a broader understanding of what Jesus is saying. We know that he is talking about the Eucharist, our communal spiritual feast, our great sacramental thanksgiving.
So the message, then, is that those of us who partake in the Eucharist will abide in Christ, and Christ will abide in us.
Lovely. Good news. Holy promise. Back to our comfort zone.
Except.
Let's look at the second half of the statement. The 'abide' part. Because 'abide' is not a word that comes up too often in conversation. And it's one of those words that has multiple definitions. The Greek form says 'menei' which is an equally complex word as the English 'abide'. It means to stay, to dwell, to continue, to remain, to endure.
So far, so good, right?
Jesus is saying that through our connection with Him in the Eucharist, we are to stay with him, dwell with him, continue with him, remain with him, endure with him. And that in doing so, he will reciprocate with and in us.
This is a beautiful, wonderful opportunity.
Our challenge then becomes how we respond to that invitation, that instruction. Our challenge is how we carry that connection to God with us after we have left the altar. Because it's very easy to keep our focus on loving God and God's people when we're here in this sacred space. Yet it can be much harder when the earthly realities of 'out there' become the background for daily life.
And the word 'menei' or 'abide' takes us even further. It's also connected to words that mean to stay fully, to stay near, to stay constantly in relation. Abide is the cornerstone of relationship, of community.
So as we hear Jesus inviting us to partake in the Eucharist, we are also meant to hear the challenge to carry that relationship we have with him into our relationships with one another.
As we come to God's table, to God's real presence in the Eucharist, we recognise that we are being invited to the feast - thanks be to God. But we also hear that we must accept the deep truth of being partakers of the feast - to live out the love of God in all we do. To humbly ask for, and then to carefully and prayerfully exercise, a Spiritual Wisdom as we go about our lives. To go about our lives, our ministries, our leisures - having been changed by the Eucharist. For those of us with faith, we celebrate the true presence of God in these elements - they are more than bread and wine. They are a Holy Promise of love and mercy and connection and closeness. Our participation in the Eucharist is a response to God's offer; it's an acceptance of the gift, it's a commitment to live our lives in a way that shows the world the Good News that comes from abiding in God.
So I'm going to challenge you to reflect on the past day, or week, or month. Has the Eucharist made a difference in your daily life? Have your actions been influenced by God's promises to you? Have you, in your interactions with family - neighbours - strangers - have you demonstrated that you are abiding with Christ? Would they say that they felt you were dwelling in deep relationship with the Lord?
I'll now challenge you to consider how you want to live out the coming day, or week, or month.  I'll invite you to celebrate that the Eucharist IS making a difference in your daily life, that your actions are influenced by God's promises to you. I invite us all to go into the world and boldly show that we are remaining in constant, full relationship with God.
We have been invited to abide in Christ, and he has promised to abide in us.
May we have the Spiritual Wisdom and heavenly focus to enter into this deep and profound relationship with God, and everyone we encounter - for they too have received the same invitation to the feast.



10 August 2015

Sermon, Proper 19

From a very difficult set of readings... (2 Samuel 18.509,15,31-33; Psalm 130; Ephesians 4.25-5.2; John 6.35,41-51)

The Gospel today is a great grouping of really difficult, confusing statements. It's deeply theological - we're getting Jesus giving his people things that they just don't understand.
Sounds familiar? Of course it does. Because life is like that for all of us at times - God is giving us every good thing, and there are things that we just don't understand.
So let's consider the Jewish folks that are chatting with the Christ.
Jesus says " I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty."
And they respond with something akin to "Huh?"
Then they do everything they can to discredit him. "Wait!" the say. "We know this guy! We know his parents. Mary - lovely woman, great cook, that thing she does with figs - fabulous. Joseph - carpenter, right? He made my table - sturdy, good olive wood, perfectly smooth and level. How does this Jesus guy now expect us to believe that he's not their kid, but rather some world-saving problem-solving supreme being that God Almighty has zapped down for us to learn from? Sure. - what is this guy been smoking?"
Let's be honest here, friends - can we blame these fine Jewish folks for what they're thinking? Imagine is someone we've known as a good local person, grew up in the neighbourhood, we know their parents, they went to school with our kids... suddenly they start saying things like "I am the heaven-sent nourishment that will sustain you in this life and the next."
Yikes. Crazy talk. No wonder they're complaining.
Yet on it goes. The Jews complain, Jesus rebuts.
They make the argument that this simply cannot be true - what Jesus is saying is too scandalous, too absurd, too out-of-this-world. And they know better.
So when Jesus keeps at it, he's not just making a point about who he is, but about how these Jews are treating him - and how they are treating one another.
The Jews are doing a very normal, human thing. They're basing their present interaction with Jesus on every past interaction they've had with him. And we've all done that, haven't we? We've all had times when we decide not to ask someone's opinion because we've already decided we 'know' what they will say. We don't invite someone to something because we 'know' they won't come. We don't talk to someone about something because we 'know' it's not worth our time.
Why do we do this? Why do we presume to know what another person is thinking, based n the past? And, so often, when we presume to know the other person's mind, we're always doing so from a negative perspective...
We don't often hear "I didn't ask her because she I knew she would say yes!" or "I didn't invite her because she AWAYS comes!"
Jesus is giving the Jews a great opportunity to consider their ways - and how they are so focused on the past that they aren't even able to see the present. They are so caught up on what WAS, that they don't recognise what IS. They're talking bread from heaven, and the only reference they can cling to is Moses in the wilderness with the manna - so much so that they need to be reminded that it wasn't Moses that provided the manna, but God. And that the manna was a temporary, earthly food. So Jesus invites them to re-focus on the present, and on the spiritual. He says to them "I'M RIGHT HERE! Surprise!" - but instead of people delighting in the presence of the divine as he literally stands in front of them, they complain about him. They disregard his teachings, despite the miracles he has just shown them all. Jesus is saying to them "Eternal Life starts NOW and HERE! Surprise!" But instead of rejoicing in this promise fulfilled, they reject him, they judge him crazy, they ignore the truth.
Our challenge this week is to recognise the times in our own lives when we have done the same. When we have judged someone else based on their past. When we have presumed to know what another is thinking. When we have put ourselves in such high estate that we can not see the intrinsic value in someone else that we encounter.
But imagine if we didn't do that. Imagine if we took a deep breath of pause before saying "But I 'know'..." Imagine if we took a moment to see the person in front of us for who they are, not who they were. Imagine if we opted to hesitate before casting a judgement of someone else from our limited engagement with their reality. Imagine what would happen.... what Could happen. Imagine if that pause was a sacred space, a holy moment, an entering of the Holy Spirit? Imagine if in that small piece of earthly time, what we were doing was not just waiting, but giving the divine an opportunity to break into our lives, our conversations, our interactions? What if we gave God a moment to reveal Godself into our lives, showing grace and beauty and redemption and salvation and the promise of eternal life?  What if we're not meant to suddenly "find God" in some astonishing, too-good-to-be-true once-in-a-lifetime cataclysmic event, but in the small, daily, ordinary realities when we are willing to open ourselves up to the encounter?
And this, friends, is what the deep theology is all about. It's the invitation to celebrate the presence of the divine in our lives, each and every day. It's the invitation to pause in our earthly judgements, and breathe the breath of God into our conversations. It's the reality that God wants us to see and know and celebrate being the people of God.
Deep theology s not about winning at Bible trivia, it's not about seeing only the human agents in God's historical miracles, it's not about having it all figured out or explaining all the right answers.
Deep theology is the study of the divine. In our hearts, not in a textbook. In our lives, not in an essay. Deep theology is about entering the mystery. It's about deepening our relationship with God on a very unique, very personal level. It doesn't matter how someone else relates to God, it's about how we as individuals relate to God.
So for the Jews in the Gospel, it would have meant them admitting that they didn't fully understand what Jesus meant, but that they wanted to get to know him better, and better apply this 'living bread' concept into their own lives.

And for us, it's the same. We don't have to have all the answers, but we have to want to connect with God, to receive the gift from God. It doesn't have to make sense in this world, just in our hearts . May we trust in this truth; may we believe what Jesus told us: that he and He alone is the living source of life which has come down from heaven, for everyone to take part in. Truly, deeply, May we all eat of this bread forever.