Sermon, St. Michael and All Angels

 A number of years ago, I attended a consultation entitled “How Do We Speak About God?” It was a really engaging time, when a group of clergy were discussing and sharing experiences and ideas of how we communicate about what we know and don’t see, and what we sense but can’t touch.

We looked at the overlay of faith in modern institutions – like health care. We contemplated expressing the divine in fine arts and poetry. We stretched our perceptions of where to *find* God in definitive ways: in sacred buildings and profound prayer, of course; but also seeing the holy reflected in nature’s majesty and in social media; in food security and international commerce.

Needless to say: it was exciting, exhausting, and exhilarating.

Over a decade later, several of us still engage in friendly conversations about this: how do we speak about God?
We ascribe characteristics, like love and justice and peace.
We speak of ways that we have encountered the divine, those holy moments where our inner selves *knew* we were in the presence of God.
We embrace practices, like building community and praying and acts of compassion.

And: sometimes, we point to others when we want to talk about God.
Not in the ‘handing it off to you!’ kind of deflection – but an authentic appreciation for the knowledge and wisdom of others.

Today is one of those days. How do we speak about God?
Sometimes we talk about angels.

Now, in today’s society, if we were to speak of angels, we would likely encounter folks who understand angels as cute little cupids, cherubs floating around with bows on Valentine’s Day.
Maybe.
Or we could find someone who thinks that angels are our celestial guardians who do their best to keep bad things from happening to us.
Maybe!

But the biblical accounting of angels tells us something different: And this is what we’re celebrating today.
Angels are God’s messengers. Literally, the word Angel means Messenger.
One who carries the message that God wishes for us to hear, and learn.
The angels have been greatly considered, and written about, for thousands of years. From appearance to temperament to purpose, the biblical angels seldom look or act like the greeting-card or porcelain knick-knack we think of.
They are heavenly beings, organised into choirs or hierarchies, and serve God as leaders, revealers, enforcers, proclaimers – those who carry the word and action as messengers of God.
To us as humans; and to other celestial bodies.

So when they bring their message to us, there’s a lot of ways that we can receive those messages:

For some, it is a revelation, like Jacob’s dream.
Not only is he shown that messengers are in constant motion between the heavenly and earthly realms; he is also blessed with the knowledge that God would not send messengers to somewhere unloved or unimportant.
“Surely the Lord is in this place!” he declares.
He has seen and experienced holiness: he can clearly talk about God!
And thus, as a result of his receiving God’s message, he then goes on to share God’s message.
How awesome is this place indeed!

For some, the angelic message is a basis for the entirety of existence: The psalmist celebrates the angels as worthy of blessing; as ministers of God’s will, of the works of God’s creation.
All who wish to embrace the grace that is communicated to them are invited to live out a life serving others with that same grace; not for their own glory, but to help others learn about, and come to relationship with, God.

Some of God’s messages are intending to identify leaders, and articulate ministries.
Our Gospel has Jesus reminding folks of God in his rather strange conversation with Nathanael; assuring him of the cosmic connection between the mortal Jesus and the eternal Christ. The angels will ascend and descend, we hear; carrying messages in ways that transcend time and space.
Jesus assures the people who are listening that these angels are present, and are real: even when they are not seen, or known, or understood.
And what a blessing for Nathanael; to hear the words of comfort from Jesus himself that he would be blessed with this undeniable confidence in the presence of God, manifest on earth.
What a compliment for Nathanael to have his ministry affirmed: he is a truth-teller, known and respected within the community. To be granted the glimpse of these angels gives him the opportunity to share the good news of Jesus’ divinity with courage, confidence, and credence. Angels amongst us, he will see: and speak about.

And some angelic messages are not for humans to see or participate in; but we benefit all the same.
The passage from the Revelation to John: a biblical book that in today’s society is met with a lot of curiosity and skepticism and inflammatory interpretation.
Understandably. This book has always been met with skepticism and curiosity… but that’s a sermon for another time.
Today, the passage we get introduces us to Michael: the archangel. And he and his team work together to ensure that heaven remains a place of holy peace.
Michael is described in the book For All the Saints “the powerful agent of God who wards off evil from God’s people and delivers peace to them at the end of this life’s mortal struggle.”
While many in today’s society tend to be wary of the Book of Revelation, when we read it as an extended message, we see not only the opportunity for our redemption (being offered over and over again); but we also are comforted by the knowledge that God’s angels are constantly at work to provide eternal peace.
Thus Michael teaches John – and us through John’s Revelation – to speak of God in ways that comfort, that encourage, that assure. God’s promises are everlasting, and we can join in rejoicing with the angels.

Those messengers, who praise God; and invite us to do the same.

As the 20th century English author Dorothy Sayers says: “the angels represent the operations of divine providence: that varied and coordinated power, imaging the whole spiritual order of the universe, quickened and sustained by the love of God.”

So angels are messengers of pure praise; and through their service of praise they work to sustain, empower, and defend, the spiritual order of the universe.

And as they do this, they keep the focus on God. On God’s grace. On the holy promise that is offered to us all.
They do this often without us knowing that they are God’s angels: even in the scriptures only four angels have names. The rest of these countless messengers come to us at unplanned times, in unexpected encounters, yet in ways that remain remarkable to us.

And they speak to us, about God. Inspiring us in words, in actions, in feelings, in dreams.
And they equip US to speak about God to others: in ways that are meaningful to our context, helpful to the people we meet, uplifting to the communities we serve, empowering to the experiences we share.
The angels are still speaking: and I pray that we will all have the openness of heart and soul to hear and receive the good news of God:
And that we have the confidence then to tell others of that goodness.

For God is present: and God’s angels are here:
waiting for God’s people to continue the communication.

Let us go into the world, sharing the Good News given to us by the angels.

Sermon, Pente +18 (Year B)

 This morning I'd like to focus some thoughts on the reading from Proverbs. Because the bride in this passage is inconceivably amazing. In 21 verses, we hear how she is taking on the world, and excelling in everything she does.

To name but a few of the characteristics: she’s reliable, consistent, organised.
She works hard for her money, and knows its value.
She’s the first one up in the morning, and the last to bed at night;
she oversees her whole household to make sure things are done well.
She uses her resources to be generous to those in her employ, ensuring that they are looked after well, and know that they are appreciated.
She strives for justice.
She is world-wise and educated, and inspires learning for her household.
She’s a careful dresser, appreciating finer clothing but also being engaged with all the processes of what she enjoys.
She’s a hard worker, hands on in every area of commerce, and enjoys both skill, knowledge, and wisdom in economic ventures.
She’s a person of faith, who focuses on what is important and eternal, and will not be swayed by fads or trends.
She knows her land – because she walks her land in its caring.
She knows her garden – because she works her garden in its maintenance and growth.
She knows her family – because she is intentional in her relationship building and engagements.
She is a woman known for her faith, for her integrity, for the works she produces: both in her immediate circle and in the broader community.
She knows who she is, and she is true to herself and true to God.

To be blunt: that’s a lot. Is anyone else feeling a bit voerwhelmed at what this one single woman can do?

We should be. Because the ideal woman in this passage is ideal.
Or, more accurately: she’s idealised.
She’s not real - the dictionary defines ideal as existing only in the imagination; desirable or perfect but not likely to become a reality.
The woman being described here is not some super-hero woman; this is the list of qualities that Bathsheba (yes, of the sunbathing on the roof story) is giving to her son King Lemuel (also known as Solomon – as in the Wisdom of…).

And they know that there is no way that one person could do all those things; but it’s a nice conceptual compilation.
But centuries of folks trying to make this idealised list a set of itemised requirements: yikes.

Because we do the best we can: but we can’t always be the greatest; certainly not at everything.
And the other scriptures today remind us that even if we are the ‘best’ at something, it doesn’t have to mean going it alone. Even Jesus to his disciples tells them that being the so-called “greatest” is not what we should be striving for.

The imagery of the Proverbs sets up unrealistic expectations if we’re trying to be a one-person hero.

The imagery of one person doing all the hard work: not really helpful, and not healthy.
The imagery of success automatically and invariably following effort: we know that’s not always the outcome.
The imagery of inflexible gender roles – well, that’s led to a whole lot of gender-related inequality, when the notion of “being a Proverbs 31 woman!” (and yes, that’s a thing) – denigrates women.
The imagery of complete mastery over all things – this continues a domination mentality over the creation, which we know is contributing to our climate changing and extremely negative affects for all life on the planet.

So… this morning I’m going to invite us NOT to get caught up in this impressive list
But rather, let’s go right back to the beginning – the first description of the woman in question.
A Capable Wife? Who can Find??

The Hebrew for capable wife is Eshet chayil
Eshet meaning woman, or female partner.
Chayil is translated as worthy, strong, powerful, virtuous. It describes valour, efficiency, ability, excellency.
So our woman of valour then: remains an ideal. Without description of appearance, or name, or family lines… she’s a concept.
The proverb reminds us that the valour of a person is in the essence of who they are. As Rachel held Evans puts it: “women of valor can be found in all kinds of cultures, in all kinds of roles, and in all kinds of circumstances. The truth is, a woman of noble character will fulfill any role with valor.”
A woman of valour: is a women who acts WITH valour, focusing on the areas of doing good all her days and receiving the trust of her companions and of praising God with all she does.

So here’s the next step deeper with our lovely woman of valour: our Eshet Chayil.

The word Chayil is a masculine noun. It’s origins, and 260 other uses in scripture, intend it to describe the manliest of men. It speaks of armies, and integrity in battle, and strength in fighting.
So for the entirety of this Proverb, speakers of the Hebrew text aren’t limited in their understanding of male verses female characteristics. They understand that this is not about the perfect wife:
It’s a message about a balance, and shared responsibility, within a community.

That’s why this “capable” wife is referred to as a question. Who can find her?
She doesn’t exist on her own. She can’t.
The proverb’s teaching here is inviting a community to come together, in balance, in service, in mutual care and compassion: to fulfill those roles.

So… What if every member of a community would bring their noble characteristics, their God-given skills and gifts, their talents and treasures, and do a little bit, to the best of their ability?
Imagine the goodness that would come to, and from, such a community:
It would be hard-working and just and faithful and celebratory;
it would practice good stewardship of land and resources, using wonderful creativity and joy-filled and loving.
It would be inclusive and affirming and encouraging and inspiring;
it would look after people and animals and all of creation, for generations to come.
It would be … well, it would be ideal. In every way. And for every one.

A community of valour; a community of love.
Who can find? That community would be priceless, and everyone would want to be a part of it!

And imagine if that community did all these things as an expression of their faith. A God-loving community – a church community, even! – fulfilling the many roles and characteristics of what it can mean to BE a God-loving community.

The good news is, we can – and do! - aspire to be that community. We can come together with intentionality, sharing what God has given us, delighting in what’s possible when we all come together. In love, in service, in the journey of faith that lets us try.
The level of efficiency and competency is not guaranteed: it takes effort and attempts and failures and practice and adjustments.
But the desire to continue in the journey, in the work, in the celebration: it’s worth it. To be the community of valour; the church of faith, the people of integrity that in all things are striving to love and serve God, and love and serve each other – this is something we are doing, and by God’[s grace will continue to do.

So as we continue our shared journey of faith, let’s consider and pray and discern how God is calling us to BE that community.
A church, active in the name of God in this place and this time.

Celebrating authentic and joy-filled worship;
Engaging all people with compassion and love,
Showing leadership in caring for God’s created world,
exercising generosity beyond our walls;
a church known for being: well, a capable – and valourous - church.

A capable church – who can find?
God willing, we will not just find it, but will do our part to BE it.

Sermon, Pente +17 (Year B)

 We all like easy answers.

We don’t often enjoy difficult questions.

So: when Jesus asks his disciples a difficult question, they give him an easy answer.
Who do people say that I am?
Yikes; that’s a complex and loaded conversation starter.
Not only is it a question of identity; it’s a question of divine presence.
And the multiple disciples respond with a multitude of options of “popular opinion”:
JB, Elijah, a prophet.
All important people in the history of the Jewish people; all teachers, leaders, faithful folk who want the best for God’s people and God’s creation.
All VERY complimentary.
But: all other people. Popular opinion is divided, as Jesus has reminded different folks of different qualities.

So these answers may *seem* like an easy answer. And it seems like that’s a nice, positive, comfortable way tot end the discussion.

But. Jesus isn’t done. He invites deeper reflection, knowledge, connection… these are his disciples, after all. The folks who have chosen to follow him; whom he has chosen to exercise ministry with, the ones whose very descriptor – disciple – suggests following. Routine. Discipline.
AND: Jesus is their rabbi. Their teacher. The one who often asks them questions.

So his follow up:
Who do YOU say that I am?
This could go any number of ways.

They could focus on his geneology: “You’re Jesus; son of Mary and Joseph.
Or they could comment on their relationship: You’re my best friend! My teacher! My companion!
Or they could have addressed his attributes: “You’re our spiritual tour guide! Our rabbi! A healer and preacher!

Instead, Peter goes deep.
Now, we know Peter often goes deep, blurtin things out, without necessarily considering the implications of his words and enthusiasm.
YOU ARE THE MESSIAH. He says.

Ah. The Messiah. The chosen one. The anointed. The Christ.

To Peter – and others - the promised Messiah was going to overturn society. They would be a military presence to oust the oppressive Roman Empire and restore the idyllic religious kingdom.
Literally: a return to Eden.
Well, who wouldn’t want that? If someone else could just make everything better, all at once?
Think of it:
A world where all conflicts cease.
Where communities are always peaceful.
Where everyone feels safe, without bigotry or racism or xenophobia.
No housing crisis.
Healthy eco-systems that can sustain all life.
Adequate food and nutrition for all.
Water that is safe to drink in every home.
Where everyone can have a sense of fulfillment in contributing to society.
A place where we literally treat our neighbours as we would want to be treated: with respect and dignity and grace. – including our non-human neighbours.

…you get the idea. It sounds heavenly, doesn’t it?

Yet Jesus responds to them in an unexpected way. He dismantles the notion of Messiah as some super-hero blasting in to ‘fix’ things – and instead speaks of self-sacrifice; and challenge; and opposition.
He doesn’t speak of Peter’s mythological “Golden Era” but of the very earthly reality:
Change comes from US.
With us; through us.
Through the changes that WE make.

We can be agents of change in the world; when we first change our hearts and minds. To lose our current framework of life, and instead to set our minds on sharing the divine life.

Admittedly; that can be hard.
Because society tells us to look out for ourselves.
Even when we know that’s not really working out for us all.

And let’s be honest; like Peter, we are all wanting someone else to make things better; we are all wanting Jesus to just look after things for us.
Yet Jesus is instead inviting us to be co-creators of that better place; to be architects of a different, happier, and holier world.

And the interaction between Jesus and Peter can sound rather abrupt to our 21st century ears… rebuking each other, and the all-too-familiar “Get Behind Me Satan!”

But the connotation of the Greek word for rebuke had a kind of teaching, even slightly patronising, component to it – a colleague (Jacob Smith) describes this as “the same way a mother would speak to an obstinate child: “I have had enough of that sort of talk. Stop this nonsense!” “

Imagine. Trying to teach Jesus about who he was.
And the response to tell Peter to take his adversity – for satan didn’t mean a little red dude with horns and a tail – and put it behind him… well that can have 2 meanings as well. Put it behind you: could mean Put it in your past and move on; or it could mean to put the adversity at your back as a means of support – to learn from it and be stronger for the future.
Rebuke indeed.
The question “Who do you say that I am?” really is a difficult one; and Jesus has shown – in a few sentences – that even the easy answer is not easy; for it calls us to action. To commitment. To life-long change that isn’t always where we want to go.
But it is where Jesus leads us.

THIS is where Jesus calls his followers: the 12 that were with him then, and all of us today.
Jesus calls us to follow him; to put down our own lives and take up the cross.
The cross that is there for all of us.
The cross that inspires us to action; that invites us to faith; that invigorates our ministry, that informs our lives.

It’s interesting that yesterday was Holy Cross Day: a day to honour not the instrument of death and oppression of the Roman Empire, but the transformational assurance of Resurrection; of redemption; of ever-flowing grace.

And today we are inviting to take up our cross.
To consider who it is that WE say Jesus is:
The Messiah; the holy one of God; the great giver of love.

And part of our cross compels us to live our lives in ways that reflect that we have shed the restrictions of this world: the desire for wealth and power and all manner of self-serving attributes.
For we know that those earthly desires have led to times of greed, and sinfulness, and broken relationships with each other and with the earth.

And instead we have the chance to celebrate that through Christ – through the power of the cross – through the divine grace of God – we are not bound by these earthly ways.
We instead can work together to bring about the potential that Jesus leads us to:
To cast aside our egos and repair broken relationships between people, families, nations.
To deny our greed and live within our means;
To share when we experience abundance and ensure that no one suffers want.
To seek out those who believe they are unloved and unloveable and show them the welcome within the family of faith.
To stop devastating God’s ultimate masterwork and re-establish our niche within the created order.
To focus on heavenly things: where everyone is cherished as a beloved creation of God.

For the sake of the gospel; we cast aside our inward focus; for the sake of the Gospel, we love the world that God loves.
And thus: we lose what we never needed; and we gain the greatest gift of all: celebrating our relationship with the Messiah; the Son of God.

Perhaps that’s an easy answer after all.

Sermon, Pente +16 (Year B)

 The scriptures this morning invite us to grapple with how we apply our faith to our lives; how we take Sunday Morning with us the rest of the week.

And it can be hard: Because not every situation makes sense when we look at the world through the eyes of faith.
And not every faith teaching seems to ‘fit’ with what we hear is happening in our communities and in the world.

The challenge of course, is that there’s no easy answer. Because sometimes, life just doesn’t make sense. Things happen that are beyond our comprehension, and beyond our control.
But: our faith reminds us that there is constant opportunity: to be intentional about finding ways to live in the world using our faith as the primary lens that we’re looking through.

…and even that can seem challenging – when the world around us isn’t with us in the faith paradigm.
Yet we aim to do the best that we can; to take action. As individuals, as families, as a church – as a whole community.

We are called to take the gifts that have been given to us, and find ways to put them into action; to take the Good News of God and let that influence and inspire who we are and what we do in the world.

And the scriptures assure us that our faith inspires our works, and those works matter. What we do matters. Proverbs reminds us of our what should be important: reputation over riches, generosity over greed, humble hospitality over hubris.
James writes a letter articulating that drawing lines between people is divisive and unfair; and this should cause us to examine our own judgements, favouritism, and acts of mercy.

So: we are called to act.

How awkward then that the Gospel seems to show Jesus taking the opposite stance.
And not only that he is NOT acting with mercy, but he seems to be responding to a woman’s pleas with a hardness of heart that is just SO uncharacteristic.
He calls her a DOG.
Not a loveable pet; but a wild animal known to be problematic, destructive, and unwanted.

Well: I think that may have been on purpose.
Not just because Jesus needed a day of rest: for tiredness is no excuse for cruelty.
And not just because the woman was Syrophoenician, one of “those people” that society said were unclean: because cultural differences never override humanity.

I think Jesus’ really inappropriate treatment of the woman was meant to challenge the disciples: to stand up for what is right.
For when Jesus speaks to this woman he is clearly out of order.
He is not just rude: for rudeness is an unintentional act that hurts someone else.
Jesus knows that what he is saying is hurtful: and with the intention to cause hurt, he says she is unworthy of him.
That’s mean.

And this is where the disciples ought to have taken action: to intercepted, interrupted, interjected: to have stopped the meanness right away.

Yet they didn’t. They were bystanders: likely surprised, but not enough to take action. Not enough to challenge their friend and teacher on his hurtful, nasty, cruel comments.
And so, by their silence, they were compliant.
They maintained the status quo of power imbalance; the societal norm of racism; the accepted ambivalence of inhumanity.

Yet: and I suspect that Jesus, as the Christ, knew the woman was not going to give up easily –
The woman uses her voice, and retorts with a humble reminder of humanity, and of dignity.
That even the least, the last, the left-behind of society – the dogs under the table – eat the crumbs from the master’s table.

And this is a component that influenced a prayer – called the Prayer of Humble Access – that can be prayed before coming to the table of grace; the altar of God:
We do not presume to come to this thy Table, O merciful Lord, Trusting in our own righteousness, But in thy manifold and great mercies. We are not worthy So much as to gather up the crumbs under thy Table. But thou art the same Lord, Whose property is always to have mercy:

For the woman requested mercy; and she received it.
And the deaf man, rejected by society, had mercy requested by his friends; and he received it.
And the disciples, those one-time bystanders - learned the lesson of humble access and received the blessing of mercy:

And it stirred them to action; to extend the grace of mercy that they have learned from Jesus.

So today: we are faced with a world that cries for mercy; from those with voices and platforms, and from places without access to ears that would hear.
So we are called to listen:

To the communication of the natural world, opening our hearts and minds to the impact of humankind on non-human species, finding ways to act with love and mercy in consideration for the entire eco-systems, respecting generations yet unborn, and intentionally acting to mitigate and minimise our destructive behaviour.

We’re called to listen to the needs of the brothers and sisters in our midst, those in our communities who are unemployed and underemployed; who lack adequate shelter; who do not know the source of their next meal; responding with gifts of compassion, assistance, and advocacy – challenging broken systems and holding governments and ourselves – as society - accountable.

We’re called to listen to the voices of loneliness; finding ways to befriend those who are isolated and isolating. We’re called to listen to the cries of fear; from those for whom the return to school has left them with trauma; that they may re-learn to know safety and peace, and work towards environments without bullying and violence.

We’re called to listen to those who ask our help.


And to respond, with mercy: not to sit idly by, immobilised by the enormity of the world’s challenges: for we know we can’t solve everything; but we can do *something*.
All of us are equipped to make the world a better place. To speak for the voiceless. To advocate for the downtrodden. To stand up to the pejorative powers that would denigrate and decimate.

All of us can respond, stirred into action by our faith: loving deeply and profoundly in ways that are helpful, healing, and edifying.

Stirred up, indeed.
So we pray:
Stir up our hearts, O God, that we may live with compassion and love and grace; opening our hearts to embrace everyone as your beloved child.

Stir up our souls, O God, to act with joy and peace and faithfulness; patiently journeying alongside those whose hardships we have not known.

Stir up our minds, O God, that with reason and kindness and patience we will inquire and discern news ways to promote life for all God's creatures.

Stir up our strength, O God, as we face each day with courage and righteousness and prayer, removing barriers and seeking new pathways to a holy life.

Stir us up, O God, that we may delight in knowing you, that we may act for justice and peace, and that we may be empowered to proclaim Your Good News in all that is possible when we live out our faith.

Sermon, Pente +14 (Year B)

 There’s an old saying: when the going gets tough, the tough get going.

But in today’s gospel, it seems like the abundant followers decide to just… get gone.
Not in a ‘let’s work hard to get this thing done’ (as the saying intends) – but more of a “so long, and thanks for all the fish” kind of way.

Now, it would be easy to presume that they are just frustrated that the only thing Jesus is talking about is his bread-ly status.
(Which by the way, ends this week).
But the reason we repeat anything over and over again is when we need to fully and deeply understand something.

And Jesus needs people to understand that he IS the bread of life, the bread from heaven, the nourishment for the soul that people need.
He is offering to them something that is way more than just a hunk of bread; way more than just a meal.
He is offering them an intimate connection – to the divine, and to each other.

It’s interesting to note that the lengthy discourse on Jesus as bread comes to us from John’s Gospel; which is one where the prayer that we know as the Lord’s prayer is not articulated.
But there’s a line in that prayer that Jesus knew well: Give us this day our daily Bread.

Because when Jesus invites folks to include that petition in their prayers, there’s a connection not only to the physical sustenance that we need, but also the emotional fulfillment of connecting with community to acquire and consume that bread, and the psychological aspect of being humble enough to know we need God for that bread; and of course the spiritual maturity of requesting the Bread of Life to fill our souls.
So: back to John, where we don’t get the one line, but an entire narrative arc.
And today, as Jesus finishes his teaching on bread:
The folks admit - it’s tough.
Not, as I said last week, to just grab a meal; but to change a life: for the sake of the Gospel.
This teaching is difficult indeed! As it demands a paradigm shift for how the people see the world, and interact with each other. It’s a truth that will influence every aspect of their lives.

And it continues to BE a difficult teaching for us: to be followers of the Way of Jesus means a challenging road for us all; and not as a temporary segue, but a lifelong journey.
This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?

Well, this is when we see that many of the folks who want to follow Jesus:
Don’t. They don’t accept it.

They instead decide to Close their hearts, to continue doing what they’re doing. It’s been kinda working for them, so why rock the boat?
They are given the option of changing their lives, for the sake of the Gospel… And it;’s too much.
For them, the change is just too much; they can’t disrupt their lives to that effect; and so they turn back.

I think we’ve all known people like that:
folks for whom their faith wavers when things don’t go their way…
folks who maybe come to the pews on Sundays but whose weekday actions may not reflect that teaching…
folks who use church membership as some status symbol…
folks who just really aren’t hearing the teachings of Christ. (Even when he repeats himself!)
Folks who: when we’re honest: sometimes we see in the mirror.

We – all of us – at some point have had moments (and I make no statement on the duration of those moments) when we’ve been sort of… lukewarm about our faith. About putting our faith into action.
We’ve been …good enough…
But not really giving it our all.

It happens. We’re human. Our faith is an ebb and flow kind of thing; our lives are full of ups and downs, our relationships with everyone – including God – can fluctuate.

I heard a word this week: Satisficing:
It’s the combination of the words satisfy and suffice: and it’s the business strategy of intentionally doing just enough to get by (suffice) instead of doing our best to do something well (satisfy).

It’s not uncommon to know that the bare minimum may work in some times and places: some times our school papers or business reports were just good enough, when all we wanted to do was get it done….
Or if we’re comfortable in a workplace – where a review of 3 stars (out of 5)- means doing well enough not to be noticed (and reprimanded) - and doing poorly enough not to be noticed (and given more work).

Satisficing.
That seems to be what the majority of folks are doing in today’s Gospel: they will follow Jesus and hear his teachings – to a point.
But not to the point of emptying themselves of their earthly focus and personal intentions; not to the point of challenging their entire way of life.
So: the going gets tough: and these folks walk away.

It’s interesting to see how Jesus reacts.
He doesn’t get upset, he doesn’t force them to stay, he doesn’t say they owe him for the food, he doesn’t say anything negative.

He instead allows them to depart; in peace.
And he asks the apostles what they wish to do; giving them also the popular exit route, to live a life of “good enough.”

Jesus extends this invitation to us, every day – to consider where we want to be, and if we are able to be followers of Christ in all aspects of our lives. To set aside all that would keep us from the love of God, to commit to the hard work of living our faith, even when the going gets tough.

We are invited to be among those who are fed by the Bread of Heaven,
to feast in our faith. To strengthen our commitment to God. To renew our vocation of loving service.
To recognise that being followers of Jesus IS hard work: but it is good work.
To know that when life gets tough and our faith is challenged, that we will embrace the hard work to the best of our ability, to the glory of God.

We are given the example of so many of the faithful throughout the scriptures; who chose to celebrate their active and living faith:

Like Solomon – declaring “O Lord,… there is no God like you in heaven above or on earth beneath, keeping covenant and steadfast love for your servants who walk before you with all their heart”

Or like Paul, whose encouragement to “be strong in the Lord” will invite us also to pray for each other, “that [we] may declare it boldly, as [we] must speak.”

Or like Simon Peter himself, who summed up the reality of being a follower of Jesus: “to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”

Because these folks know what it means to live in faith; and despite their own imperfections and challenges, they choose to journey with God.
May we all be so firm in our faith.

Sermon, Pente + 13 (Year B)

This morning, I’m going to invite you to think about your most recent prayer request.
Maybe it was a thanksgiving – or an intercession for a loved one – or a confession.

Maybe it was a petition – a prayer where you’ve asked God for help for yourself.
These are all very normal experiences of prayer.

So… your last petition to God. Do you remember what you asked for?
And do you remember what the circumstances were that inspired you to ask?

I bring this up because all of us have, at some time, said a prayer.
All of us, at some time, have asked God for help.
We get particularly good at this when we are experiencing need, or distress; when we’re in trouble.
Whether that trouble has been brewing for some time, or if it’s an emergency unfolding before our eyes, the “Dear God – HELP!” is a prayer that we’re good at.

There are times when these requests are just an open plea: we don’t have a clue what might help the circumstance, or what the best outcome might be: but we know that we’re in over our heads.
And when we’re there, it’s a good thing to remember we’re not alone. The “Oh God help!” prayer can remind us that even when life is extremely challenging, God is with us – hearing us, accompanying us in the journey.

Sometimes, however, our prayer requests are quite particular, when we describe exactly what we want God to do. The desire for God to grant our wishes (as we want them) “Lord, please give me this outcome, at this time”… well, it’s not the most mature prayer, but it is a common one.
Even though we know that our prayers should not look like a Christmas list, and that our Almighty Lord is not a sparkling fairy godmother waiting to bippity-boppity-boo our pumpkins into carriages.

Yet: we ask. Of course we do;
And we do our best to learn from God’s response to our prayers.

So here's the next ponderance about when we ask God for something for ourselves.... When was the last time you did that, when things were going well?
When there wasn’t a crisis, or a stressor, but it was a time of stability and goodness and happiness?
Not necessarily when everything in your life had to be coming up roses, but a time when things were generally good.
Did you ask God for help then?

Hmm. Because this is where and when we often slip. When things are going well, we tend to shift our focus again to earthly realities instead of divine relationship.
And it is to that context – as normal as it is – that today’s scriptures speak to us.
They remind us that we need God's help at all times - the good and the bad and the neutral - if we want our prayer life to be healthy and helpful, and focused on that divine relationship.
Because when things are going well, it is good for us to be intentionally connecting to God; not only with gratitude in our hearts - as wonderful and important as that is – but with humble awareness that with good things comes responsibility; a duty of care.

We hear of Solomon beginning his reign with prayer. The new king is living an intentional and careful balance of humility and confidence, of the earthly "I've GOT this!" and the heavenly "only with you can I do this."
He knows that the importance in life is not about titles but about how we walk with God. Solomon understood that as David's successor he had BIG shoes to fill! And while his role meant that he was duty bound as guardian to the Ark of the Covenant; his heart and soul knew that he was honoured to demonstrate to the community his active faith through prayer.

This theme continues in Ephesians; as we hear that God wants us to be faithful and strong in our faith, while remembering where that strength comes from. God does not want to be a supporting character in our lives, but a starring role; that we are strong in the Lord and in the Lord's power, equipped for ministry not by our own doing but by the gifts and graces that have been lavished upon us. Paul is clear that this comes through perseverance in prayer and supplication, a commitment to service in the Lord. A heavenly focus of how to journey through the earthly realm.

Today’s Gospel again details this difference. Jesus says he IS the living bread from heaven. And the folks don't have any point of reference: while our minds immediately go to the Eucharist, that's not yet a thing for the followers of Jesus. The last supper hasn't happened yet for them.

So the people dispute, and refer to their closest frame of reference for heavenly bread
is a loose and long-ago reference to manna. And during the exodus, manna was both a physical miracle, filling empty bellies, as well as a spiritual miracle, a relationship-builder between the people and God.

So when Jesus is speaking (again and again) about bread from heaven, it’s confusing to the people. The proffered gift is a divine revelation, a mystical presence, an overwhelming concept for humans to grasp.

Yet Jesus is promising something amazing to those who can see past the improbability of the gift and the shocking language of his discourse.

This is not just a hint of deity, just barely enough to get you through the day. This is God's holy abundance. Eternal heavenly nourishment. A literal buffet of grace and salvation, offered to everyone who would seek it.

But while it sounds fantastic, many rejected what Jesus was offering – as many today choose to reject what is continually and continuously offered.
Not because they don’t want it, but often because it's too hard.
Not to receive the gift; but to have our lives changed as a result of it.

Receiving this heavenly bread means giving up our earthly status.
It means refusing to believe that we can go it alone, that we're self-made people, that the good days are our own doing.
It means asking for help when things go well, and deferring to God's power in our lives. It's admitting that our best, our very best, is not credited to our own doing.

That is humbling. It's life-changing deference that is opposite to what culture says we should want.
Though we know that this is how we will be truly fed.

When we come to Christ’s table, we pray to be fed with the bread we need for today. We approach with gentleness, with confidence that we will be fed.
We come knowing that we are welcomed and wanted; that we were loved into being.
And so we come with joyful hearts, delighted spirits, and prayerful souls.

We come with trust; knowing that God will never let us down; that God will not let us go spiritually hungry. The bread of heaven is there that we may see it, know it, and feast upon it.

So I pray that we all will have open eyes and hearts to acknowledge our hunger.
I pray that we will live in gentle humility to ask God to help us through this earthly time.
And I pray that we might have the faith to declare our confidence in Jesus: who invites us to the heavenly banquet.

 

Sermon, Pente +12 (Year B)

 Our brains are pretty amazing things.

Part of the fun is that we’re imperfect.
sometimes we react to a situation before our brains have had a chance to actually assess what’s going on: and that can lead to some interesting outcomes.

Our amygdala – the most basic part of the brain kicks in a fight-or-flight response before it can connect off those neurons that lead to logic.
And this leads to an abundance of emotion-related chemicals flooding through our systems.
And thus: we find ourselves doing things that may or may not make sense… even to ourselves.
…unless we intentionally take the time to pause, breathe, and think.

When we just live in that moment, without some self-reflection and awareness, we can become so caught up in our emotions that we miss the bigger picture:
Spiritually speaking, this means that we can miss the blessing that is before us.

And: no one wants to do that. Because when the logical part of ourselves is in control: we WANT the blessing. We crave that goodness, that holiness, that divine presence.

But sometimes – our brains get in the way.
We become our own barricade.

This is happening in today’s scriptures:

King David defends Absalom, wanting special “gentle” treatment in the war.
He has aspirations for Absalom not only as his rebellious son, but as heir to the throne. The legacy bearer.
These are high expectations.
So even though David has been fairly reckless with the lives of the 20,000 other men killed in the battle, his son’s death – admittedly an unusual one – really catches him unprepared.
David has been so focused on empire building, that he has not been focused on building the community under his realm.
And now: he grieves. He realises that he has missed out on the blessing of a child: the individual, the person; not the heir apparent.
His focus was on himself; and missed the blessing that God had put right in front of him.

In Ephesians we hear what sounds like a simple checklist for ethical living: don’t spread falsehoods, stop thieving, share with the needy, etc. And these are all good.
There are also those spiritual directions that matter: use your words to give grace… do not grieve the Holy Spirit… do not make room for the devil. Also good advice.

It’s helpful for us to remember that such lists are not merely meant as hypotheticals, but they are in direct response to what Paul has been hearing about the community. That the physical and spiritual realities of Ephesus have some room for improvement.
And this is not overly surprising; for humans like to grumble and gripe; there’s a reason that gossip and snark travel much faster and further than news of goodness and love. It’s a timeless reality: complaining is juicier and more popular – you just need to follow any letters to the editor or online comments section.
So what’s happening in Ephesus is not unusual: they are so caught up in doing their own thing that they are missing out on the blessing of authentic Christian community.
The epistle also addresses the reality that emotions are going to get in the way sometimes: that they are normal, everyone has them, etc. Yet the letter is also VERY clear that our emotions do not justify our actions: we are called to accountability for what we do.
When the Ephesians are told: “be angry but don’t sin” and “put bitterness away from you” Paul is reminding them that by NOT acting in anger, they can be open to seeing the blessings that are there.
Reconciliation is a blessing; so is maintaining a relationship with healthy communications such that repairs are not necessary.
The blessings of kindness, forgiveness, and community are abundant – and to be valued

The Gospel passage today, the bread of life discourse, is a blessing of self-identification that Jesus is offering to the people.
These are the same people we’ve been journeying with the past few weeks: they’ve started following him because of the miraculous healings he’s done. They’ve been fed by the multiplication of loaves and fishes that he administered. They were mesmerised by his calming of the stormy sea. They have listened to his teaching and asked for more. They have heard him SAY that he is the bread of life, come down from heaven, as prophesied and foretold by the prophets of old, with echoes of Moses to affirm and strengthen his words.

…and yet: today: they complain.
How very human.
They even ask him directly – again – who he is. Because they’re trying to discredit him, to disbelieve, to find some loophole that gets them ‘off the hook’ from what it would mean to truly live a life following God.
“Are you really the Messiah?” “Yes I am.”

But they are so stuck in their patterns, their way of thinking, their ordered ordinary lives – that they can’t fathom the blessing that is standing before them.
They know his parents, after all. He couldn’t *possibly* be the Christ.
As though Mary and Joseph never discussed anything about his birth;
As though Jesus himself never demonstrated his divinity.

The emotion overpowered logic; their immediate reaction overtook the ability to see the blessing.

Despite Jesus’ continuing efforts to have these folks see and receive the blessing: they just won’t.

It makes us wonder:
What in our own lives is happening that we’ve become accustomed to, so we take it for granted?
What feeds us – physically, emotionally, and spiritually – in ways that gives us that confidence to live FULLY?
What was the last thing in our lives that was so spectacular, so transcendent, that we *KNEW* it was a blessing – and responded as such?
And: what are we going to do now? How will we engage both logic and emotion to live our faith to the best of our ability?

For the message of all these scriptures today is the assurance of blessing: right before us.
The psalmist speaks of forgiveness, and hope, and mercy, and redemption: all blessings; abundantly offered.
These blessings HAVE. NOT. STOPPED.
The promise that God has given us didn’t come with an end date.
The bread of life that came down from heaven does not spoil like its earthly counterparts.

The Good News of God is here: for all of us, for all times.
It is here for us to know as a blessing:
A blessing that we are given, and a blessing that we are called to give.

As bearers of the Gospel, we carry that Good News to the world –
In ways that move beyond the immediate brain reaction into the logical, faith-filled response.
Through actions that encourage community, compassion, and connection.
With a positivity that can overcome any of the naysayers in the world: including at times the voices we speak to ourselves.

Let us go into this week with confidence and hope:
To share the Good News.
To look for the blessings in our lives.
To trust in the nourishment of the bread of life.