Sermon: God loves the weirdos

            This morning we are celebrating! Praise the Lord, alleluia, it is a GREAT DAY here in the household of God.

            And we're celebrating because we have MUCH to celebrate!

            We have a baptism this morning - we have our sea cadets here this morning - we have our Sunday School wrap-up this morning - we are welcoming friends from the community this morning - AND it's our parish anniversary this morning.

            And there's countless other ways that we are celebrating this morning. It's a beautiful day! We are gathered to worship in freedom! We have a shared meal coming up! We all have enough clothes that no one's naked! (Or wearing camel hair)!

            Because - let's be honest - camel hair would be weird. Especially as we don't live where camels live.

            But sometimes, even in our celebrations - daily, annually, or once in a lifetime - weirdness can creep in. And I think that's okay.

            Let's consider the John we've moulded our anniversary around. John the baptiser. John of the wilderness. Good old JB, who was, in a word: weird. John was WEIRD. But we celebrate him - and we celebrate his weirdness.

            Because we know that his weirdness was of God - even from where and how he was named! And we know that he used his weirdness FOR God; coming out of the desert to stand in the waters of the Jordan and baptise people, preaching forgiveness of sins, and generally delighting in the abundant mercies and blessings of this life that so many took for granted.

            We celebrate the weirdness of John as a way to remind ourselves, too, that God's grace is being lavished upon us, flowing more freely than water, immersing us in the glory of God.

            Oh, my friends, there is MUCH to celebrate.

            And when we celebrate, it means we are coming together. We are choosing to be a community - from a variety of places, with a variety of experiences, with a variety of opinions, and with a variety of gifts.

            These gifts came from God, and we are constantly being invited to use them. And the best part is, we have already agreed to do just that. In our own baptism, and every time we renew our baptismal vows (which, by the way, is often). We have promised a number of things to God about how we will treat God, and how we will treat each other.

            Our baptismal vows challenge us to action. Baptism is not a passive act, it's a revolutionary act that should inspire how we go out there into God's world with God's people to embrace God's mission.

            So this doesn't just mean finding the people that we like, or the folks that we agree with - that means seeking out the Christ in everyone - the neighbour that annoys us and the grandmother we adore. It means respecting the dignity of all - the clerk who sold us coffee or the doctor who saved our life. It means seeking justice for everyone - even when it's awkward - and taking action. It's not enough for us to despise the notion of children in concentration camps in the southern US, we also have to look inwardly to our own systems of immigration and Child and Family Services. Because I assure you - they can all improve - and it's going to take some brave, determined, weird people to make things better.

            And making things better will be an act of faith. It will be taking what we say we believe and risking in order to make God's dream for peace and justice a reality.       Because THAT is what we promise in our baptism. THAT is what we declare when we recite the creed. THAT is what we mean when we invite people in to the household of God: it's not simply an invitation to a Sunday morning service, it's celebrating BEING the church and empowering our weirdness to embrace the world with love.

            Love is the answer. Love is the right thing to do. Love is what God hopes we will use our gifts for. Love is what God challenges us to see in one another.

It is this love - this perfect, unconditional, unchanging love - that we celebrate today. A love so pure that it enfolds us every moment, in every circumstance, with every opportunity. Love is what brings us to baptism. Love is what carries us into the world. And love is what will bring the kingdom ever closer.

            So yes: it's a bit weird, but that doesn't mean it's not right.

            Love: Love God, love your neighbour. Love your enemies, love the stranger. Love the orphan, love the widow, love the immigrant. Love those who proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ. Love those who you want to love, love those who you don't. Love.

            In this day and age, when culture and society try to pit us against one another, the courage to love and persevere in love is weird. It may not be walking-around-wearing-camel-hair weird, but it IS counter-cultural, and community-minded, and unselfish, and - weird.

            So that's our choice: today, and every day. We can exist in the status quo, or we can live fully, and love.

            I hope that you will choose love: that you will extend love, that you will embrace love, that you will receive love when it's offered. And always remember: God loves the weird - God's the one that gave you that weirdness in the first place, and God gave you a community in which to celebrate your weirdness. So be inspired by it, find new ways to live it, and go out in the world and just love: and celebrate that you - with all your God-given weirdness - are a member of the household of God.

A funeral homily

Matthew 11.25-30

         The yoke isn't always easy. Because life can be difficult - it can be heavy. 

         And if we try to do it alone, we tire, and stumble, and generally are miserable. The yoke goes off-kilter when there is but one trying to pull it. It is too much to be done well, to be done properly.

         Life is heavy; and it is too much to be done by ourselves without help.

         And so God provides for us ways to deal with the heaviness.

         The solution: coming together with God and with one another. 

         For when we do that, we are sharing the load. We are sharing the heaviness.  100 pounds for one person is unbearable; that weight for 10 people is possible; that weight for 100 people is negligible; and the community that forms as the weight is shared lifts us, supports us, encourages us. The weight is no longer a struggle, but a gathering point. 

         And when it comes to emotional weight: grief, sorrow, suffering - that is a weight that moves beyond what can be weighed on a scale and into a heaviness of heart.

         This heaviness is what we feel today; what we have felt over the past week as we have journeyed in a world where we love Vic but see him no more. 

         This is where we lean on each other the most. When our hearts are so heavy that they threaten to paralyse us.

         And this is exactly where our faith comes in, to share in how we carry that weight. To remind us that God never intended us to bear this weight, this grief, alone. 

         The weight does not diminish; faith does not magically remove it from us. Rather, it provides a divine helper to come alongside us, to walk with us, to share the load. 

         It is our faith that invites us to recognise Jesus is beside us. In our grief; Jesus shoulders the yoke; helps to guide and direct us so that we can find again the right path, the correct journey, the way that we are wanted to go. 

         It can feel strange at first, as we start to discover and develop a new 'normal'; we continue to stumble and bumble, but Jesus never lets us go. He never lets us journey alone. He stays right beside us as we get back on our way, where we get back to being able to carry the weight of this life. 

         And he doesn't leave us then; he never leaves us. He never wants for us to think we have to journey alone, no matter what we think we can do. 

         This is the truth that brings us comfort. To know that we are never without help and direction. To know that we will never be left behind. To know that we will never have to carry the heaviness of this world alone. 

         It is comfort, indeed. The comfort of faith. 

         This is this faith which Vic proclaimed, in word and action, every day of his life. It is the faith he celebrated in every relationship: with family, with friends, with anyone he encountered. He lived his faith fully, and is an example to the rest of us. 

         So while the burden of our grief is heavy, we are helped through it by the gift of faith. The faith that assures us that Vic is not gone, but has moved to the next life. The faith that promises us that we will see Vic again at the Resurrection. The faith that sustained Vic in this life and is rewarding him in the next. 

         Vic's journey in this life was with Jesus. It was a walk of faith, of hope, and of love. I pray we all might have faith as strong as Vic's, that we too would live in hope. 

SERMON: 3rd after Pentecost, with baptism

1Sam 8.4-20; Ps 130; 2Cor 4.13-5.1; Mk 3.20-35

            It's a beautiful day in the house of the Lord!

... I'm going to invite you to reflect on that for a moment. What does it mean for you to be a part of God's house?

            Well, first off, it means that you are welcome. You are ALWAYS welcome. If it's your first time here, or if you've come through these doors a thousand times: Welcome home!

It also means that this is God's house: and God's house is not restricted to these walls and ceiling. The house of the Lord is not a location but a lifestyle; it's not limited to bricks and mortar but extends wherever the love of God is shared. The house of the Lord is not a temporal, earthly thing - all buildings have end dates; our God does not.

            Our first reading reminds us of this; the people turn their focus further and further from God, becoming almost fixated on things and kings. They want one person who they perceive will make them feel happy all the time, even as that person takes their focus further from what is holy. And though logically they know it's not healthy, and is unsustainable, that's what they say they want. And further in the readings, we learn that it all crumbles down.

            That house, sadly, is a house of cards: a house of deceit and self-glory and instant gratification. It is NOT the house of the Lord.

            It's in the New Testament reading today that we are reminded what the house of the Lord is all about: Paul declares that the house of the Lord is "a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens."

            That means that the house of God is important not as a structure, but because it means that we are in the HOUSEHOLD of God - a reality that transcends any building or person.

            If we think about what 'household' means to us, we know that it means Family. Beloved. Those who are related. Those who are journeying together as we collectively seek God. Those who are committed to being family - despite time and place and all those earthly distractions - to focus on being children of God. To celebrate our place as heirs of the kingdom.

            We all know that family is not always easy. There are always challenges, an abundance of opinions, a jostling for control. Living together in shared space can be difficult. My grandpa used to tell of being the only man in a household with four women - and only one bathroom. We all have those moments, those anecdotes, those realities; but they do not break the bonds of family.

            So too in the household of God: there is room for everyone. There is a place for everyone. Everyone is welcomed, and wanted, and celebrated. The household of God is not a place of judgement or criticism or competition. It's not a place for gossip or anger or hardened hearts. That's the "house divided against itself" that Jesus speaks about in the Gospel reading. That's the place of exclusion and negativity. And that house "will not be able to stand."

            But the unified house - the household of God, the celebration of family: this is what we celebrate, today and everyday. It is the place where God delights in our presence, where Jesus assures us of our forgiveness, where the Spirit conveys the eternal "home" that we all seek. It is the place where brothers and sisters in the Lord come together: always wishing the best for one another, discovering new ways to care for one another, reaching out in compassion and peace to do all that we can to love God and love one another.

            So it is truly a beautiful day in the House of the Lord! Because we make up the house of the Lord. So let us look around and see one another as members of the household of God, and hear the words of Jesus saying  "Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother."

            I invite us then to continue our delight, as we do what God did from the very beginning: today we formally welcome [name] to the household of God.

Sermon: Proper 9

1Sam 3.1-20; Ps 139.1-6,12-18; 2Cor 4.5-12; Mk 2.23-3.6

         When did you first hear God’s voice?

         Do you remember it?

         Do you remember the first time God spoke directly to you, and said “Hello, precious and beloved child. I have big plans for you!”

         How about the first time God communicated that you were marked for a very important task – even if it wasn’t going to be an easy one?

         When God speaks to us, it can happen in a variety of ways. Sometimes, some people will hear actual words. Take Samuel, for example, as a child servant in the temple. There are other folks who will have heard the voice of God in less concrete ways. It’s a stirring, or a nudging. That feeling that you simply MUST do something in some way – that you’ve been led down a hallway of possibilities, but every door feels wrong when you get to it – until the one at the end opens and you think "AH... this is EXACTLY where I'm meant to be, doing EXACTLY what I am meant to be doing!"

         I'd like to suggest that the first time God spoke to you, you won't remember it. Because I believe that we communicate with God right from the very beginning of our being. The God who (as the psalmist poetically describes) started knitting us together in our mother's womb - who was part of our being before we even saw the light of day. The creator who was with us so tenderly and gently as we were lovingly, wonderfully, marvellously made. God has always been communicating to us. God started calling us before we knew there was anything other than God.

         So my question for you this morning: How is God calling YOU? How is God engaging with you today? What is the whispering in your heart that is directing you towards God? What is the stirring of your soul that is inspiring you to kingdom-work?

         If the answer is “Um... I don’t know...” I invite you to pray, and to listen. Notice the hints that are being revealed to you in creation. Seek out the suggestions that just seem to present themselves in your life. Listen to the still, small voice that pervades your thoughts. Reflect on the nuances that have been shared with you on your journey thus far.

         And: speak to a spiritual companion, someone who can help you to be clear that what you are hearing is God's voice (spoiler: if a voice tells you that you *need* a 54 million dollar fourth-private jet, and that others should pay for it - it's probably not God speaking.) So we follow the biblical example of engaging with companions on our journey, ensuring the call is confirmed and verified by others who are on the same path.

         But it's not always easy - just consider Samuel! His story starts out before he does - his mother's experience of prayerful service is a powerful story, so Samuel's entire life was one of knowing that God was actively communicating and calling him into loving service. He saw how his mother modeled praying, listening to God's call, and actively discerning her ministry by dialoguing with other faithful people. She demonstrates faith and devotion, always expressing in word and deed her trust in the Lord. What a learning environment for Samuel, before he is gifted to the service in the temple.

         So today's passage starts where the child Samuel – probably about 8 years old – embraces God’s call, getting help from Eli. Eli – who is the man behind the not-so-great behaviours that Samuel is being called to confront and change. Eli - who embraces that God’s work is there for us at any age – remember he’s an elder, and helping a child to embrace active service to God. And we see that he responds faithfully to the difficult message that Samuel gives him. It would have been easier for Eli to just keep doing his own thing, presuming himself to be right; it was the faithful thing for him to accept change, knowing that God was speaking to him through speaking to Samuel.

         It's a POWERFUL story. Makes you wonder how many times God had tried to speak directly to Eli about his ways, and was unheard or ignored.

         So now we can apply this learning to our own lives. WOW. How many times have we ignored God speaking to us, because it was inconvenient, or awkward, or didn't fit in with our personal agenda. How many times have we not realised that God was speaking, because we weren't in a place to hear it, or we didn't know how, or we didn't have anyone to talk with about it? How often have we thought that God only calls other people. For other things. At other times.

         Yet: God calls. God calls each of us. God invites us into ministries, of varying scopes and durations. God calls people to their careers: teachers - and mortgage brokers - and garbage collectors. God calls people to specific tasks: to work at the homeless breakfast - to offer prayers in the church - to read to children. God calls people to their roles - to be a husband - or a friend - or a parent. God calls us all: for a lifetime, for a short time, for a moment. God calls us into service: into ministry.

         What a wake up call for us all then.

         Because God is speaking to you – God is speaking to all of us. God wants to be heard. God is inviting us all into ministry. God is providing countless opportunities for all of us to express what it means to be a Christian, what it means to be baptised, what it means to be the body of Christ: the family of God, living in the service of Jesus. God has called all of us - is calling all of us - will continue to call all of us. Every day, God is inviting us to do what God has made us to do, to preach the kingdom of God.

         I hope that whatever God is calling you to, that you will trust that God is with you, every step of the way: in our good moments, in the moments where we could do better, in the bad moments that we wish we could just erase from our history. God is there – encouraging us, empowering us, inspiring us.

         Don’t let the world tell you that you can not or should not do your ministry. If it is of God, it is meant to happen. Sometimes the world doesn’t want to receive it though: there are some folks who are so afraid of what might be possible if we let in the light of God, that they would prefer to sit in the darkness. It’s what Paul was encountering in Corinth; people who made it all about themselves, who developed a following not for God but for their own ego. It's incredibly unhealthy, and sadly: unChristian. It’s why he was very clear that loving and serving God was NOT easy. And so he warns that if we get too caught up in the realities of this world, in those clay jars, we miss the light that is within us – and we miss the opportunity to share that light. And that is just sad.

         The Gospel repeats this: that the world does not always want to receive the light of Christ. Jesus himself faces opposition – from folks who claim to be religious. So we learn that sometimes, even those who we think do – or should – be bringers of the light, may have fallen into habits that promote staying in the darkness – because it’s easier.

         The Pharisees tried and tried to silence Jesus, with quite frankly, terrible excuses. Pathetic attempts. It's not a good day to heal, they say - as though God wants suffering to extend because of our calendar. It's not the time to pick food, they say - as though God wants people to remain hungry at any time.

         So I invite you to embrace your ministry. Listen to God's call. Celebrate the ongoing communication that you have always had with the divine. Ignore those who would do or say things to deny light and love for the sake of their own popularity or ego,

         As Shel Silverstein so brilliantly articulated about a world so quick to deny light and love and the power of possibility:

" Listen to the MUSTN'TS, child,

      Listen to the DON'TS

      Listen to the SHOULDN'TS

The IMPOSSIBLES, the WONT'S

      Listen to the NEVER HAVES

Then listen close to me-

      Anything can happen, child,

ANYTHING can be."[1]

         May your ANYTHING be exactly what God is calling for you to be: what God needs, and what God wants, and what YOU can provide to the world.

---

[1] from Silverstein, Shel. Where the Sidewalk Ends. 1974.