31 January 2016

A sermon on the Presentation of our Lord in the Temple (Lk 2:22–40)

This morning we're celebrating the Presentation of the Lord in the Temple. It's a feast that takes place 40 days after Christmas - for all you quick thinkers, that's 02 feb., but as we won't all be here again Tuesday, we've transfered it to today. There are 12 Great Feasts in the calendar, this is one of them.
So why 40 days? Well, according to the law of Moses (in the book of Leviticus, if anyone wants to read up on it), a woman who had given birth would not come to public worship for the first 40 days. And when she did come back, there were prayers for 'ritual purification' - now that could sound horribly sexist, unless we hear it in the right context. 
This event was a time of celebration and thanksgiving. In the BCP, we have "The Thanksgiving after Child-Birth, commonly called the Churching of Women;" in the BAS we have the "Thanksgiving for the Gift of a Child" - same concept. Give thanks for mom's health; give thanks for baby's health, give dad a chance to show off the happy family. From a very practical sense, these 40 days also give mom and baby a bit of time to themselves, to heal and rest, before they make the journey. 
Yes, a journey - folks had to go to Jerusalem - not their local congregation. So with Luke's account, Mary and Joseph are without family there to help them, they've had an awkward delivery in a foreign town, their first guests are heavenly messengers and strange shepherds; they've had the circumcision and naming in a worshiping community that is not their own, and then they get to travel to Jerusalem. 
While it's only about 10km as the crow flies, this is an era without pain medication or doctors, and traveling luxuries didn't exist. It's difficult. They're poor. (How do we know they're poor? Because the sacrifice they make at the Temple, the ‘a pair of turtle-doves or two young pigeons,’ is the sacrifice to be made only if people cannot afford a Lamb - we're back to Leviticus here.) 
So, poor, scared, traveling, new parents, they come to the Temple to obey God's laws, and give great thanks to the Lord, for their opportunity to live out their calling. 
And there they encounter, first thing: Simeon. An old man who starts singing about death. Odd, yes? Why talk about death right when you're looking at new life? Because Simeon has been waiting. Waiting for "the consolation of Israel" (a beautiful title for the Christ, the Messiah). Simeon has been devout and righteous in a time of wide-spread spiritual drought. And now, after years and years of waiting, he recognises that the earthly fears are no longer winning - that heavenly realities are overwhelmingly taking control of the entire cosmos. Death? Meh, it's temporary. Eternal life? Promised - for ages - and now it's been delivered. It's right in front of him. Thanks be to God!
Today, we might hear Simeon's song as a call to action in the quote of theologian Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, who said: “The future belongs to those who give the next generation reason for hope.” And we know where that hope comes from; from Jesus himself.
As if this wasn't enough - and WOW, folks, this SHOULD be enough - but just in case; we get the prophetess Anna. Someone else who is old, devout, prayerful. And this widow lives at the Temple - relying on the kindness of strangers. There's no 'guest room' there, she likely sleeps in the corner on the floor. There's no all-you-can-eat buffet, there's only what scraps visitors might mercifully give her. There's no other option, she has no employment nor family to look after her. 
This woman comes right up to Mary and Joseph and the baby and gives thanks to God - she too recognises that God is doing something bigger and better than ever expected, and that she gets to witness it. What a GREAT and unexpected gift - for Anna, for Simeon, for Mary and Joseph, and for all the world through all of time - because we have the privilege of learning of  and from this wonderful event.
So the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple offers a connection point between the purpose of Mary and Joseph's trip, and our own call to active ministry: that connection is to Obey God. 
And as a result - both in what is written in the scriptures and what we know in our hearts, we are blessed to hear confirmation that the child Jesus is the Saviour of the World - not just for a few, not just for a time, but for everyone. For the WHOLE WORLD. 
Redemption, in this passage, is literally wrapped up in a tidy little bundle. (Okay, maybe not so tidy; it's an earthly baby, after all - a squirming, drooling, crying, bundle of baby-smell, bliss, perfect joy. Just like every other baby; this one just had a little extra divinity thrown into the mix.) But redemption for the world is THERE. In the person of Jesus. In the celebration of his being known and declared as Saviour for us all. 
And - my favourite part of this story - is the thankfulness. Mary and Joseph are thankful, so much so that they make this difficult journey and spend money they really can't afford, in order that they can show their thanks to God. This is part of their ministry.
Simeon and Anna are thankful, so much so that they stop doing what they are doing, they ignore the people around them, they interrupt their prayers, so that they can come and make very profound declarations of salvation as it is being revealed to them; despite the unlikely and unexpected way it comes. This is part of their ministry.
The folks we hear of today are acting out their ministry - from their richness, from their poverty. To God in the Temple, and for all the world to see. They live out their calling, their ministry, their thankfulness.
So today I'm going to invite us to do the same. Let's joyfully, whole-heartedly, give to God the thanks that we have as we do our best exercising OUR ministries in the world. Because - my goodness, friends, we do a LOT of ministry. We try to obey God's commands to feed the hungry, to clothe the poor, to uphold the brokenhearted, to welcome the stranger, to care for the sick, to liberate those who are in any way captive to debilitating circumstances, to comfort and support those who grieve and mourn, to pray for all in need, to proclaim the Good News of God. 
And now I'm going to prove it.
Please - and let's be honest: raise your hands if you have:
  • Donated clothing or food to Community Care
  • Supported those benefitting from Start Me Up Niagara
  • Taken part in a fundraiser like a Cancer Run or Brain Injury Walk
  • Hugged someone who is sad
  • Driven someone who needed a ride
  • Sent a card or made a phone call to someone who is sick or in hospital
  • Volunteered with youth and children
  • Prayed for someone you've never met
  • Held a door for someone whose hands are full
  • Thanked a veteran or attended a Remembrance Day service
  • Visited someone who can't get out as much as they used to
  • Attended a funeral to 'be there' for someone who is grieving
And there it is, a tiny smattering of ideas. Every one of us has done more than one of these things. Because ministry is like that - it's not an EITHER this OR that, it's a BOTH this AND that reality. We are not limited in what we can do - clearly, if that hand-raising exercise is any indication. And these are things WE DO - all of us - through our collective ministry here at St. John's.
So here's my last hand-raising question. Hands up, please, if you pay taxes.
Wait - taxes? Really? Really. Our taxes enable a lot of good things to happen in our society. In church-speak, we call that ministry. Every year, for our 35 million Canadians, our government spends $4 billion (or $115 each person) to combat homelessness. We spend $3.64 billion ($104 each) on Veterans Affairs, and $8.4 billion ($240 each person) on Indigenous Affairs. And, our government is also now committed to $1.2 billion over 6 years ($200 million, $6 per person annually) to welcome carefully screened Syrian refugees.
Taxes! They're ministry! Isn't that exciting. And as with all ministries, we give thanks to God for what is being done. And we challenge ourselves to do more. This is why we're engaging in the REACH OUT refugee sponsorship campaign here at St. John's - because for some people, we want to do more in that area of ministry. Just as for others, they want to do more for our Indigenous brothers and sisters, or our beloved kin who are in this city without safe shelter, or - or - or.  As our Lutheran friends have said, "We do not sponsor refugees" (or do any other aspect of ministry) "because they are Christian; we [do it] because WE are Christian."
There are countless ways in which we can do our best to obey God's command to obey, and live out our calling, and delight in the Redemption that is offered through Christ alone. So whatever area of ministry excites you, and speaks to your heart, I ask you - I implore you - do your very best in that area of ministry. Recognise it for what it is; celebrate it for who it gives glory to, delight in it as it brings hope to God's world. Present to God, with thankful heart, what you have done with what God has given you.
“The future belongs to those who give the next generation reason for hope.”

Let us therefore take hold of the future that God intends for all of God's people, by exercising our many ministries both at home and abroad. Let us actively, joyfully, and with truly thankful hearts, provide for the next generation a reason for hope. 

09 January 2016

An Epiphany/Baptism of the Lord sermon

This week, we celebrated the Epiphany. It fell on Wednesday; the Twelfth Night of Christmas, when our Orthodox Brothers and Sisters start their celebration of Christmastide.

And the Epiphany is exciting. Partially, it's celebrating that the Magi have come. These magi (same root word as magic and magician, because they were folks who could interpret the inconceivable) - these magi were wise men - astronomers - scientists. We'll discuss another time the whole issue of kings and entourages and travel time and popular songs.

For today, however, the impact of their arrival is what we want to focus on. And what IS that impact? Bluntly: these folks, who arrive and bring gifts, are the first to reveal to the humans who have gathered around that Jesus Christ is God - the Son of God - light of lights - Word made flesh - the manifestation of the Divine into the earthly realm.

This revelation is what is meant by "Epiphany" - it can translate from the Greek as 'manifestation' or 'shocking appearance'. The shock is not that the magi defied logic and earthly challenges to appear to the family of Jesus, but that Jesus - God's only Son, GOD - is appeared to humankind.

How's THAT for an Ah-HA! moment!

And that's the important message from mid-week that we carry with us as we hear the scriptures tell us about the baptism of Jesus.

So let's spend some time on this baptism.

Now, we know that at the time of his baptism, Jesus was an adult. He was undergoing the Jewish ritual of Mikvah - spiritual cleansing. We now translate this as baptism.

So as we celebrate the baptism of Jesus, we're invited to consider the sacrament of holy baptism - that time of spiritual cleansing, of spiritual renewal, of moving from spiritual stagnancy into engagement, of moving from death into life.

We hear in the scriptures such a powerful message of God being recognised. Here he is, friends, the Divine Presence. The One you've been waiting for. The one whom even John - the baptiser - says he is unworthy to untie his sandals. Jesus, the manifestation of Divinity on Earth, is made known.

This is made known to ALL the people - not just Jesus' parents and immediate family, as was witnessed in the Epiphany message, but by all the people. Everyone gathered - because the baptism was not a private affair, John assures us. Once 'everyone' had been baptised, the defining moment happens - Jesus, praying, is identified as the manifestation of God on earth. According to Luke, the Holy Spirit descends in bodily form, like a dove. Unexpected, exciting, and holy. This is not the photo-bombing snowy owl of this week's traffic cameras; this is a DOVE.

Why is a dove important?

As a species, these birds are beautiful, special, honoured. They are migratory, wild animals - not easily caught, but docile once caged. They do better in pairs or families; even for eating, they feed their mate and let their mate feed them - a single dove doesn't usually eat.  With doves, it's about community and fidelity and freedom; they are symbols of devoted affection.

This fits well with how doves are referenced in the bible: there's a long tradition of the dove coming at holy moments.
* In Genesis, it's a dove who brings the olive branch back to the ark, as a sign of land and sustenance, and of peace.
According to the law of Moses, only doves and turtle-doves could be used for ritual sacrifice, as they were the only birds deemed sufficiently clean.
* King David's psalms repeatedly refers to the doves as strong, able to fly beyond distress and strife, pure, gentle, honorable, creatures of peace.
* And then, of course, the Spirit descends in bodily form, as Jesus is praying, carrying all of that history and tradition; the Spirit descends like a dove. To show everyone who had gathered at the river that this man, this son of a carpenter, this person who looked like everyone else, was more than what he appeared.

This is an attention getter; this is shocking, revealing, astonishing. This is so symbolic that everyone gathered would stop what they were doing, recognising that something truly amazing was happening.

This man was the manifestation of the Word Made Flesh - and now the whole world knew it.

And then, just in case there was ANY misgiving or misinterpretation, a voice came from heaven. Literally, otherworldly. Profound, unmistakable, personal. Speaking directly to Jesus, the voice of God declares: "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased."

Talk about a shocking appearance, of the physical presence of God, in human form, living and dwelling amongst everyone else. A moment of surprise, shock, an Ah-HA! moment - truly an epiphany.

Jesus' baptism brings all of this to us. He is baptised by John, thereby promised the forgiveness of sins. He is recipient of the gift of the Holy Spirit. He is identified and called out as God's beloved Son.

And, as we know moving forward in the life of Jesus, he is about to begin his public ministry.

Sound familiar at all? It should. It very much should.

Because part of why we celebrate the baptism of Jesus is that we are invited to remember our own baptism, to renew our own baptism, and the engage in the living out of our baptismal vows. Whether they were made yesterday or 100 years ago, by ourselves or by others on our behalf, whether we think about them every once in a while or every day, and using whatever service book was used: these vows are the foundational truth of our lives.

We have promised - vowed - entered into a holy covenant with God. We have vowed to, with God's help,  
       "continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers... to persevere in resisting evil and, whenever we fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord... to proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Christ... to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbours as ourselves... to strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being... and to strive to safeguard the integrity of God's creation, and respect, sustain and renew the life of the Earth"[1] 
And God has promised us, in this same covenant, to love us perfectly, as family, and to delight in us when we delight in God.

We know that we are called to take these vows seriously. We are reminded, every time we renew these vows, that baptism is not a one-day celebration, but a life-long commitment. We know that these vows challenge us to look at the world through a new lens, finding new ways to exercise the ministry to which God is calling us. We know that these vows cannot be accomplished alone, but together with God and with one another. We know that we will never get it perfect, but will always be given opportunity to get it better, for the love of God.

We know this, because God's Divine Majesty has been revealed to us. The Holy Presence, made manifest in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, was shown to us. Revealed as king of kings in the visit and adoration of the Magi; revealed as God's beloved Son in human form, in the descending of the dove; revealed as the divine inspiration to living a holy life in God's declaration of pleasure.

And so the baptism of Jesus reminds us of all that is possible through God; it reminds us that at our own baptism God spoke that we are each God's Child, the beloved, with whom God is well pleased. And it reminds us that this revelation invites us, every day, to live our lives responding to that love.



[1] BAS, pg. 159