25 February 2018

Lent 2


            Today's scriptures are rich in the essence and reality of what it means to be spending time in our spiritual wilderness, in penance and discernment. They’re perfect for Lent.
            First we have Abram and Sarai's opportunity to stop laughing at God and celebrate the unexpected gifts and future blessings. Then the Psalmist shifts from being personally forsaken by God to praising God for God's faithfulness to future generations. And Paul's letter highlighting what happens to those who practice righteousness of faith. Our scriptures remind us to think more about God than about ourselves; and to focus on the future more than the past. And while that's easy to say, sometimes it can be difficult to live. That was the case in the Gospel passage, which I'll delve into with much more depth.
            It starts with Jesus really laying it out for his followers, speaking openly and plainly. He will suffer greatly, he will rejected by his closest friends (the people he's directly addressing!), he will die, and then will rise again.
            Now, for folks - like Peter - who I think missed the last little bit of his speech, they only hear bad news. Yet Jesus is meant to bring GOOD news. No one wants to hear about death, especially if their hearts are not fully prepared for the promise of resurrection. So Peter rejects Jesus’ words. Who can blame him? He likes how things are going, he’s comfortable with it. This is another Peter-preservation moment - another mountaintop "It is GOOD for us to be HERE!"
            Well, we recall that the first time Peter tried this approach, he got a gentle re-direction: God's voice from the cloud instructed him to listen to Jesus.
            ... and that's the exact opposite of what Peter does today. No wonder Jesus immediately calls him a shockingly bold name, in front of everyone, to point out his shortcoming.
            I'm going to pause for a moment here, on WHAT Jesus calls Peter: Satan.
            Ouch. That's an insult and then some! As the adage goes, with friends like that who needs enemies!
            Well, it's an insult to our ears - because our 21st century imaginations conjure images of Satan as some pudgy little red dude with horns, a tail, and a pitchfork, sitting in a fiery pit. It’s a powerful image - but not a biblical one.
            The biblical understanding of Satan actually comes from the Old Testament, from the book of Job - where Job is sitting, dejected and alone, and he is hearing the voice of an accuser: Ha-Satan means the accuser - the one who peaks into your life, teasing out the worst feelings and fears, and then exploiting them. Accusing you of your weakest moments, with the hope that by dredging up all that negativity, one will fall back into those patterns and practices.
            So why does Jesus call Peter this? Because Peter is more focused on maintaining the status quo than supporting the mission and ministry of Jesus. He's so inward-looking, that he misses the bigger picture. He's comfortable, he and his 12 friends, so why change anything?
            Ah, Jesus says - because I'm here for the whole world, not just for you.
Jesus rebukes him, needing to get this point strongly and precisely known. He knows his time left is minimal, and Peter really needs to come up to speed. It’s as though he is reminding them all that he has enough enemies from the outside world, what he needs are strong friends and followers.
            So we can hear these words a different way. "Get behind me Satan!" can be heard as "Stop these accusations! I need someone to help, not to hinder. If you're not coming with me into the future, as uncertain and unknown as it may feel, then get behind me - stay in your version of the past. But you'll be alone; I won’t be there."
            Ouch, indeed. And, when we put ourselves into this story, ouch again.
            Yet in this gospel passage - as in all of Jesus' teaching moments - we are invited to hear anew the words that will help us re-orient our lives towards being followers of the Christ, God's anointed, the Messiah. We are invited to constantly and consistently listen to the timeless teaching that the Son of God has for the entirety of the world that he came to save.
            So when Jesus identifies that Peter is focusing on his earthly comforts rather than on the opportunity to build up the kingdom of God, Jesus is also saying that to us.
            And the season of Lent encourages us to spend intentional time reflecting on how we are Peter, living in fear - and on how we might change our hearts to boldly embrace the future, in a sure and certain hope of the resurrection.
            When Jesus speaks to the entire community and invites them to deny themselves, to take up their cross, and to follow him, he is speaking to all of us, as community.
            And Lent gives us the time and space to come together in prayer and fasting to seek new ways to engage our broader community, to ensure that our realities reflect our priorities, that we live in action and not just intention.
            When Jesus highlights the selfish behaviours that people keep for the sake of their own creature comforts, he addresses the very human nature of a "me first" mentality.
            And Lent draws us out of that space, into the truth of what it means to be a community of Christ-followers, authentically caring for one another as we want to be cared for, giving generously because we know that we have received much more from our God.
            When Jesus challenges the people to consider the value of their eternal life, in temporary worldly terms, he articulates the dilemma for us all.
            And Lent evokes the response in our hearts to this: how many things would we trade for our life? How much money is our life worth? How much would we do and give for someone else's life? What would we sacrifice to maintain things exactly as they are in this life?
            Lent is exactly the time for us to ponder. To pray. To discern. To prepare.
            Where are we in these scriptures? Where are we in the crowd of Jesus followers? What about our families and friends? What about our beloved church and community?
            This is OUR opportunity of Lent: not to point our fingers at someone or something else, but to look deeply at ourselves, to hold up the mirror to our souls, to silence the accuser, to re-orient ourselves in community, to look confidently to the future.
            Lent is a time to recognise that we can be so caught on past systems and structures that should those crumble, so would we. It's a time to embrace the reality that truly living means letting go of control and trusting in the hope and power and grace of God.  It means becoming okay with an ongoing cycle of change, so long as that change is focused on heaven. It means accepting that we need to be comfortable with being UNcomfortable, because carrying our cross for the sake of the Gospel is not meant to be an easy journey.
            This week, that means that for some it's a time of standing up against gun violence, even against NRA-supported politicians, like many of the Parkland shooting survivors. For some, it's a time of declaring solidarity with our indigenous brothers and sisters, so we never have another Colton Boushie. For some, it's a time for denouncing racist legal systems like that which failed Tina Fontaine. For some, it's a time to advocate for the homeless on our streets so that we never need another "Coldest night of the Year." For us, it's a time to ... ... well, that's for ongoing discernment, for careful and prayerful consideration of looking inward and heavenward to figure out where God is leading us: individually, and as a church.
            But through all this, what sustains us through Lent is the knowledge that we are meant to live in hope. We are meant to live in peace. We are meant to live in the comfort of all that Christ promises us. We are meant to live in the present, and to keep our focus on the future.                For death is an earthly truth; but resurrection is a divine promise.


18 February 2018

Lent 1

Genesis 9.8-17; Mark 1.9-15

Genesis this morning opens with God establishing a covenant with Noah and his sons.
Ever wondered why it's a covenant? Why not an agreement? Or a gift? Why is this a covenant?
Partially, something covenantal implies that the divine is present. This is not just a contract, or a promise: this is holy. It's a sacred commitment between God and Noah and his sons. So, given that the entirety of the world is seen to be populated by these gentlemen, this is God's commitment of holy promise with all of humanity.
It's also something that can't be broken. Breaches of contracts can happen; a breaking of the covenant though, that carries significantly more powerful - and eternal - consequences.
And finally, let's note that God's covenant is not restricted to humanity. God makes this sacred and unbreakable vow with Noah, with Noah's offspring, and with every living creature. There's a beauty to this inclusion, and a reminder that the rest of the created order will never receive God's punishment on behalf of human error and sin.
Definitely some powerful stuff going on here, the promise of eternal relationship and interconnectivity with all of the cosmos being celebrated as precious and beloved by the divine creator!
So... what is the human responsibility here? What is Noah meant to learn and do and pass on by his children? Just before the passage we heard this morning, it was God demanding of Noah that he care for creation. That he and his family would be responsible creatures, respecting one another and all of what God had made; to be grateful and conscientious stewards of creation.
Clearly, this is a wondrous arrangement, and not one that should *ever* be forgotten! But God, being gracious and knowing us humans so well, knows that sometimes, especially when things are going well, we tend to forget God, or think we've got it all figured out on our own.
So God sent a sign, of the cessation of violence, and hung it literally in the sky - so humans throughout time and space could see it and remember. A bow - a hunter's weapon, hanging in the sky.
It's what we now think of, in our Sunday School minds - the rainbow. Hanging there, to remind us that whatever storms come our way, they will not destroy us - because of God, and God's covenant.
So... how is that working for you? Does a rainbow still instill in you a calmness of heart, a peace of the soul? Does it make your soul rejoice because it affirms a deep and communal relationship with the holiest of holies? Does it remind you of the ageless commitment that God has made WITH us? Does it inspire you to find new ways to live out our en of the bargain?
Or has it become so commonplace, that we no longer celebrate the truly amazing nature of what it means - and instead is just a pretty collection of colours, the effect of light shining through a prism?
And if the sight of a rainbow is no longer having that awe-inspiring, drop-to-your-knees-and-worship kind of effect on you, what is? What symbol do you have in your life that helps you to focus on the overwhelming presence of God? What is the sign for you?
That can be a tough question. And it's one that, I'm guessing, at some point in time would stump any of us. Because, if we're not careful - we forget. We forget to praise God.  We get so caught up in all the worldly goings-on that we forget God. We become ambivalent. Indifferent. Neutral.
And I dare say, that is when we all face temptation. Not necessarily because of any particular spiritual evil that plagues us: because we have turned our hearts and minds and souls to the stuff of this earth, the values that 'society' suggests we should focus on.
Despite his baptism, Jesus faces temptation. I think is important for all of us: we who are baptised do not get a free pass; we do not become exempt: temptation is always going to be there. And the temptation of Jesus is the same type of temptation we all face.
Jesus, hungry, is tempted to eat bread; just as we, when we are not focused on God, are tempted to satisfy ourselves by whatever means we think worthy to satiate the hunger.
Jesus, placed atop the temple, is tempted to focus on his own physical safety; just as we, when we do not focus on all of God's community, are tempted to get stuck in thought, word, and deed which benefits only ourselves.
And finally Jesus, shown all the kingdoms of the world, is tempted with authority and materialism; just as we, when we do not focus on God's world, can be tempted by greed and desire to control.
Temptation is there: in these 40 days of Lent we are challenged to face it, to acknowledge it, and to admit what it means that we have succumbed to it.
Jesus sums it up perfectly, then, as after these 40 days he announces that the Kingdom of God has come as near: at least as near as we will let it to our hearts. He invites us to repent: to turn away from the attractions and distractions of the world, and instead to focus our belief not on this world might offer, but on God, as has been revealed to us through the Good News.
And this Good News of God - it is not new. It is not complicated. But it IS covenantal. It IS relational. It IS something that we have all agreed to.
And so this Lent, we are invited to return to that covenant: to look for whatever signs we need - be it a rainbow or whatever else captivates our spirits. And when we see those signs, may we be awed by God, turning our focus to God and God only, engaging with the world in new and exciting ways to tell the ages-old story of God's abundant love and grace.


11 February 2018

Transfiguration sermon

On Kilimanjaro
         Has anyone here ever climbed a mountain? Hiked up a mountain?
         Mountains are wonderful, spectacular places. We've all seen, I'll imagine, some great pictures of a jubilant hiker at the top of the mountain - usually looking elated, with arms victoriously outreaching.  They have a mystique about them: everything is clear at the top of the mountain...  there's clarity of sight - both physical and metaphorical - from the top. It's a place to aspire to, isn't it: the mountain top experience is as good as it gets!
         Everyone, therefore, wants to go to the mountaintop, don't they? And then, naturally, to stay there! Why on earth would one want to go through the valley - that place of shadows and darkness - when one has been to the mountaintop!
         So how exciting must it have been for Peter and James and John to have their friend Jesus say: let's go up there. So off - and up - they go.
         And they've got it all figured out, don't they? They're following Jesus - always a good way to plan a journey. And they are in a group, in the daytime, which is safer and wise. They're on a bit of a spiritual retreat - they've been QUITE busy of late, so some downtime sounds ideal.
         And WOW. What a mountaintop experience they have! The transfiguration happens. They see Jesus in a way that is exhilarating and energising and just all-round FANTASTIC!
         It's no wonder that Peter blurts out the "WOOHOO! Let's STAY here!"
         But of course, as we know, the mountaintop is only part of our life's journey. We're not *meant* to stay there. But, we are invited to carry the memories we have, and take the lessons that we've learned, as we continue. Because coming down the mountain safely is just as important as going up.  Ask any climber or hiker.
         Getting up a mountain is hard work. There's training and skills and safety precautions that need to be learned and honed before you start. There's nothing at the top of a mountain - if you want food or water, you've had to plan ahead and carry it up with you (quite literally weighing you down). You've got thinner air up there, and colder temperatures - it's a rough and at times painful environment our bodies just aren't designed to stay in for long periods. And, hikers will tell you, the 'up' part is only half the journey - the goal includes coming down safely. The mountaintop is never the intended final destination - it's not a comfy tourist attraction.
         A trek up a mountain is a challenge.  It's a long-time commitment of physical, emotional, and spiritual training:  and so it's actually NOT for everyone.
         And that's okay. Because if it WAS meant for everyone, then it would be common. Every-day. Normal. It would cease to be the mountain-top experience that it is. Because the mystery and special-ness of it would be gone.
         A mountaintop is meant to be special, and talked about for its rarity and mystery and powerful journey. It's meant to be a highlight in our lives, something to speak about and share and delight in; at times of ordinaryness, and especially at times of journeying through the valley, when we enter the shadows of our life. Especially when the world feels darkest, we cling to our mountaintop moments to sustain us and carry us through.
         Even in the Gospel, the witness of the transfiguration was not meant for everyone to see. The truth that was revealed to Peter and James and John was meant to be theirs - and theirs alone - for some time. It was long after they had come down from the mountain top - both physically and spiritually - and long after they had journeyed in the valley - again both physically and spiritually - that they had the space and place to share the good news of the transfigured Christ revealed to them, by God, in the person of Jesus.
         This is part of the message that the apostles shared in their darkest times, after the death of Jesus; these were the moments that helped them to believe and trust in the good news of the risen Christ - and to share that message with the world, for ages to come.
         And what wonders they are able to share, what fantastic learnings they have from their journey. What fantastic opportunity for us to learn from their mountain top experience, too.
         Firstly, we're invited to make sure we're following the right person. The apostles followed Jesus up the mountain; they learned from him. With Jesus, the emphasis will always be on compassion and mercy: if we're not acting from Christian love, we're not following Jesus.
         We are also reminded to look for the unexpected amidst the ordinary. We never know when the brilliant and blinding glory of God will be revealed to us! It may not look like a dazzling white robe, or the presence of Old Testament heroes standing in our midst: but miracles are in front of us all the time.
         We can do our best to be intentional in how we talk about and to God: Peter blurts out his building project intentions, and even the evangelist points out how this was not a well-thought out statement: "He did not know what to say, for they were terrified." Let's know that even when we do have those well-intentioned but OOOPS moments, that God's correction to us will be to be gentle with ourselves, and to learn from it, and move forward being more intentionally faithful.
         We are invited to keep our focus on the divine - Peter doesn't say "let's build three houses, one for each of you, PLUS a house for us" - he says - let's get you wonderful folks cared for.
         We're invited to listen to the voice of God as it surrounds us. I love the image of the cloud: we see clouds, we can be engulfed by them, but we cannot capture or direct them. God's voice is like that. And it directs us to listen to Jesus. May we open our ears to hear, and orient our lives to act in loving service to Him..
         We're reminded of the profoundly loving reality of God, who confers (not for the first time, nor for the last) that Jesus is the Beloved. The Son of God. And knowing that as children of God, we are also recipients of a love so beautiful that words cannot describe it.
         We're also told that after this spectacular event, the apostles saw the ordinary world again, we hear there was no one with them anymore "But Only Jesus." Because - Jesus is enough. Jesus is all that we need. Jesus is more than we deserve: but by the grace of God, we are gifted with access to Jesus.
         And that, my friends, is the mountaintop experience for us all. Jesus is real: Jesus is God: Jesus is our strength. Together, we come to the elation of seeing and knowing Jesus, and this is what we carry with us. This is how we look at the world in a new way. This is how we carry the good news into the world, knowing that it was carried to us by the past, privileged to carry it forward to the future.
         Thanks be to God for the mountaintops - both physical and spiritual - where God's radiance lightens our world.







10 February 2018

Epiphany +5

Mk 1.29-39
            So this morning, we have Jesus out and about doing Jesus-y things. Same as the last few weeks, right?
            Well, not really. There are some significant differences today. And that's important, because it denotes a shift in Jesus' ministry.
            This week, this Gospel passage, we are given some clear insight into the heart of Jesus: he loves people.
Well, duh! You might be thinking. We already knew that. Of course he loves people.
            But here we see just how much he is willing to risk in order to love - actively love - people. He will put himself into no limits of danger in order to be helpful and healing to people.
            There are two ways that this happens.
            Firstly, you may have noted that when Jesus is inundated with the sick, he receives them where he is. He doesn't say "not tonight, it's family time", he doesn't suggest that they join him back at the synagogue.
            Rather, he shows that love transcends time and place.
            Jesus engages in this healing ministry where he is, and when they approach. We hear that the whole city is gathered around the door - they have sought him out, and him alone. They haven't tried to make him a permanent fixture in the socially-acceptable society; which we know he would have refused. Instead they have gone, admitting themselves vulnerable, being with others that have been denied community, in the hope that they might for a moment find health and salvation.
            So let's think about this a bit more. The folks who were gathered - these are not all sick people, they do not all have diseases. But Mark tells us - everyone is there.
            I think this is why we hear that Jesus cured many. CURED - note this is different from HEALED. Jesus cured many who were sick with various diseases! He offered them an earthly freedom from the earthly germs and afflictions.
            In doing this, he also provided healing - to all who were there, regardless of their earthly germ situation. Because healing comes not for physical ailments, but for the betterment of the spirit. Healing is a spiritual, divine reality.
            We hear about this as well, don't we. We get the allusion to the folks who were sick in mind and spirit, coming to the door just as eagerly as the folks who were sick in body.
            Those folks were suffering spiritual demons.
            Now, this is not the first time we've heard about demons, of course Just last week our Gospel passage referenced the demons that Jesus silenced and cast out. So what's different this week?
            He doesn't even let them speak. They knew him, they knew who he was, and what he is, and because of this, Jesus would not let them speak. He was done with them, with their voices, with their words, with their very presence.
            What a gift for the health of the spirit! To have any presence of evil denied! Jesus would not let any of the people gathered there be distracted or disturbed by the voice of evil. What a gift - to be freed from the heavy burden! What health and restoration.
            This ties in to the second way that Jesus offers that perfect healing love: he touches people. Quite literally, touches them. Now, in this day and age, we recognise how germs are transmitted, and we do our best to not share germs. We sneeze into our elbows, we wash our hands, we stay home when we're sick. Easy, right? Well, in Jesus' time, this was not known.It was presumed that if you were sick, you had done something sinful - you had acted in a way that separated you from your community and from God. Sniffles were a little sin, but a fever and flu? Well, that could be a HUGE sin.
            The people in Jesus' time understood that un-healthiness could transfer, but they thought it was by spiritual means - so if you were really sick, then by being next to you I might catch your sin and fall out of favour with God. Yikes - not worth risking, in an era before hygiene and hand sanitiser and antibiotics.
            But - Jesus touches people. He allows them to touch him. He is willing to go against cultural taboos and touch the lowest of the low: the sick, the rejected, the dirty, the coughing, the feverish - he touches them. And they are so desperate for his touch, that they are willing to touch each other!
            Jesus puts himself at risk, having all this sin-induced sickness around him. He is willing to have himself rejected from society, from the synagogue, from his friends' house. He could have, by cultural norms, been denied access to the market, been refused food and water and lodging, been told he was not worthy to enter the house of God - because of who he was seen with, and who he touched.
            But we know, having heard what happens with Simon Peter's mother-in-law, that the touch of Jesus is healing. This touch does not exclude from society; instead it brings a physical cure, and a spiritual health. It is love in action.
            Jesus goes in to his friends' mother-in-law's room, where she has a fever - which, in those days, could be a death sentence. And he touches her hand - and lifts her up - and up she gets; the fever gone.
            It's beautiful, for so many reasons. And it's interesting, with our 21st century ears, to hear in the next sentence "and she served him." We need to be careful not to just think that this poor woman has jumped up from her deathbed to make dinner for the younger generation. The service that she offers is a much more important one, a much more all-encompassing one. It is a life of serving: it is a life of loving - because she has received love. It is a life of generosity, because she has received. It is a life of sharing joy, because she had experienced joy. It is a life of blessing, because she has been blessed.
            This woman, Simon Peter's mother-in-law, now lives her life openly loving - because she has been loved. Through that touch - of the hand and of the heart - her life has changed, and she will share the message of faithfulness and of wholeness, the truth of God's perfect love, for the remainder of her earthly days.
            Jesus loves us. Jesus wants to be near to us. Jesus will not be limited by the status quo, by societal norms, by what other people expect of him. Instead, he invites people to be changed, by his love. Jesus does not rebuke the sick for gathering together; instead he loves them. He does not judge them harshly; he offers peace. He does not allow them to be bothered by their demons; instead he silences evil from a place of love. He does not avoid his friends' mother-in-law, instead he lifts her up with love. He does not allow the people to make his life comfortable and easy, instead he goes elsewhere so that more people can be loved.
            Jesus loves: fully, completely, recklessly, beautifully. He loves. And through that love, brings healing to the world.
            So here's the good news - the surprising, joy-inducing, grace-filled good news:
Jesus loves US. The love continues. And we're invited to share that love as broadly as we can.
            So... bearing that in mind:  what's holding you back, from fully receiving the love of Christ? What is causing you dis-ease? What is weighing heavily on your soul? What is clinging to you, that you exist instead of live fully? What pain do you carry with you in this world?
            Whatever it is: I invite you to bring it to Jesus, I pray you will benefit from the peace and bliss of knowing the on-going healing of the soul that comes from the hand of God.
            Bring it to Jesus - as people have always done - and be freed by the experience.
So let us go, and find Jesus, and ask for the healing of our souls, trusting in the healing touch of God to free us, that we might live in the beauty of love, and joyfully serve the hurting world with the ministry of love.