Sermon, Advent 1 (Year C)

 So – here we are! December.

The first OF December.
The first Sunday in December.
The first Sunday of Advent:
It begins!

We are now in that gorgeous season of Both / And…
we’re in Advent: that liturgical season that invites us to slow down, be reflective, set our hearts to the gift of preparation…
both for the celebration of the coming of Jesus as a baby so many centuries ago – and also preparing for the second coming of the Christ – and all that entails!

AND… we’re in that secular season of pre-Christmas.
The lists, the tasks, the buying, the wrapping, the card-writing, the baking, the cleaning, the parties, the pictures, the hope that mail will start again…
It’s exhausting just thinking about it.

Here we are!
December. Advent.
Waiting.
As patiently as we can – trying to balance our desire to do-it-all
with our desire to be fully present and conserve the energy that we have.
The season of love: and the season of stress.

So – naturally we come to church, hoping to pause the noise of the world, and receive the comforting words that will help get us in the spirit of the season….
And…. We get the Gospel today.
Which can feel the OPPOSITE of what we’re hoping for.

Because it speaks of this apocalyptic time,
with warnings of calamities about to happen,
of feelings of terror and helplessness.
This, when taken out of context and in small snippets, can feel overwhelmingly UNhelpful. Dangerous, even. Depleting.

And golly, we get enough of that feeling from the news:
where we learn of climate disaster… political upheaval… financial concerns… of people and societies not knowing which way to turn…
We get enough of that harshness from the societal notion that we have to be perfect, that we’re under constant criticism and judgement – even from ourselves…

It’s no wonder that at times like these – like at so many times before –
we hear some folks saying the end times are here…

And: this is where I remind us of the emphasis of looking at the bigger picture: of not becoming stuck in one small section of scripture that can paralyze us with fear.

Because I don’t believe that is where God wants us to be:
Instead, I hear in these scriptures the eternal promises of God.
Reminding us to keep alert: to the truth. To keep awake: to God’s grace. To keep open: to the comfort of the Spirit.

The scriptures grant us assurance that we can be moved out of the chaos of the world; the disorder, the confusion, the disjointedness of it all.
Of course our world feels out of order; when we as humans have not kept God at the center of our lives.
For some, God is barely a footnote in their story.
And so: the creation reacts – and we all struggle – some more than others.

But imagine what could happen – what will happen – when we bring God back in to our story.
When we put Jesus as our friend, our teacher, our model of calmness and community.
When the morals that our souls desire become the cornerstones of our actions and words.

This week at clericus, the lovely Ann Salmon reminded us of the power of shifting the dynamic back to God:
Not asking God to stir up OUR powers, in our feeble and flawed efforts to dominate the world.
But instead to re-orient our prayers, that we may know the strengthening of GOD’s powers here on earth:
the powers of peace and justice, that overpower the principalities and greed and egos of this world.

Imagine.

Well, we don’t have to try too hard to imagine what is possible when the world keeps God at its centre.
The scriptures declare to us what is possible; and what is promised.

Jeremiah speaks of the coming of the Christ – and the reality of the promises that have been held for generations: promises of blessings and righteousness.
These are timeless promises - that have been fulfilled, that are being fulfilled, and are yet to be fulfilled.

The Thessalonians are reminded of the power of faith, and the strength of God, in their relationships with one another;
that the love they have received and are called to always share may give them the firm hearts to stand with confidence before God.

Jesus speaks plainly that when the Son of Man comes – when the second coming of Christ is upon us – that we might see, and recognise, and be standing upright – because we prepared while we were waiting.

While we wait for the Lord:
we wait for this month, as we journey towards the anniversary celebration of the birth of the Christ-child.
And we wait for the second coming of the Christ; journeying to the unknown time when we will see – and celebrate – his “coming in a cloud with power and great glory”,

While we wait: we prepare.
We prepare ourselves for the coming of the Lord;
by acting as though our honoured guest will be along any second.
We pray with open hearts, open minds, a willingness to change and be changed by the presence of God.
We act for the community with the compassion of Christ, upholding the dignity of all.
We live with peace: peace in our homes, in our communities, and around the world.

We live in the time that is Advent – waiting – and Pre-Christmas – rushing.
And I suggest that this is okay: because this gives us the opportunity to carry Advent with us into the Pre-Christmas world.
The love, the blessing, the promise, the grace: all that is Advent

And in doing so, we might make the world a little bit of a better place:
Maybe the person behind us in line at the grocery store really needs to be smiled at – and reminded that there is goodness in the world – even if the recipes fail.
Maybe the parent of the screaming child at the mall needs a moment of peace as we distract the child and pick up the fallen mittens – assuring them of caring and concerned community, not of judgement.
Maybe the customer service folks need to hear “thank you” as they do their very best with situations that are beyond their control – for they too have their to-do lists to tackle..
Maybe we all need to hear words that we are okay;
maybe we all need to see indications that we are valued within society;
maybe we all need to feel that we are loved

For at times, we have all needed to know that Advent peace flowing on us, in our pre-Christmas rush.
And we have been the ones who have received love even when we struggled to understand our place.
And we have been the ones feeling disjointed, and disoriented, and shaken entirely out of place, and without our center to ground us.

So this Advent, I hope you are able to prepare:
Prepare the Christmas lists, for sure:
And prepare yourself for the Advent of our God: prepare to receive the love that flows.

For you ARE loved. The real presence of God, manifest in Christ, the source of perfect love – loves you. With a love that has already been given – and that never stops.

And, I really hope that you can receive this love,
and find little ways to share it with the world..
And make the world a better place:

A place with less chaos and confusion,
with more companionship and community.
A place where Christ’s return will be a time of celebration, completion, and comfort.
A place of Advent – in a Pre-Christmas world.

May God bless us all as we enter this season.

Sermon, Reign of Christ (Year B) UNPREACHED

 **Service cancelled due to snowstorm. Sermon not delivered.

Good snowy morning!
Winter is definitely with us now here in Saskatoon – what a beautiful time and season!
And here we are, on the cusp of a new season… for, as Iain mentioned last week, this is the final Sunday of the liturgical year. Advent – which begins next week – begins the new year.
So today: it’s a little bit like a liturgical New Year’s Eve – highly anticipating the year to come, while celebrating the time that is.
And how do we celebrate it?
By remembering who we are here for.
It’s a day to honour and celebrate the timeless presence of the Christ.


The scriptures affirm this timelessness, in subtle – and not to subtle – ways; as rulers on earth recognise the reign of Christ.

The second book of Samuel is part of a series of books in the Hebrew Testament that are a theological history of the Israelites, that want to explain God’s law for God’s people, under the guidance of the prophets.
And in this passage we have today, we have the final words of David, where he expresses gladness at the goodness of his house.
David: King David: the monarch of the lineage of God’s chosen: is praising those who govern in such a way as to keep God as the ultimate ruler.
‘He who rules people in justice, who rules in the fear of God, is like the light of morning at sunrise, a morning that is cloudless after rain and makes the grass from the earth sparkle.’

And he celebrates the opportunity to have served to the best of his ability, while keeping his heart directed to God:
“Surely my house is true to God; for he has made an everlasting covenant with me, its terms spelled out and faithfully kept; that is my whole salvation, all my delight.”


Our New Testament reading then takes us to the other end of the scriptures – both in terms of time they were written, and the physical Bible. The Book of Revelation to John: where the angel of the Lord speaks to John in his exile.
And what a greeting!
“Grace be to you and peace, from him who is, who was, and who is to come”
The promise of God is eternal! The reign of Christ transcends time – God who was, and is, and will be – past, present, and future.
Lord of all; for all time. Extending grace and peace to us lowly humans: from the desire to be in relationship with us all.
In this passage, the message of the promise of a just and divine ruler is so important, that the angel quotes from the prophets Zacheriah (whose name means “God Remembered” and whose prophesy is about a renewed relationship) and Daniel (whose name means “God is My Judge” and whose prophesy is of the Holy One coming to rule over the entirety of the world),
These two prophesies are a foretaste of Christ’s appearance returning to us; a ruler who understands the human condition, and still loves us.
One who has seen the best that we can be – and the worst that we can be – and still yearns to be connected with us.
What a blessing it is to have such opportunity to be known and loved by the one who cares for our souls, and the souls of all we love:
“‘I am the Alpha and the Omega,’ says the Lord God, who is, who was, and who is to come, the sovereign Lord of all.”
The reign of Christ has survived all that history has shown us. It permeates all that we do on earth this day. It will remain for all years to come; for nothing is stronger than the power of God, made known to us in the leadership of Jesus.

And our Gospel – OH, our Gospel!
It may feel a bit disjointed to have this passage, that we associate with Easter (when days are balmy and spring is upon us) – and yet here we are in a snowstorm, racing into Advent, being blessed with these same Holy Words.
And it’s not an accident; it’s intentionally placed here – as the person of Jesus engages with the person of Pilate.
It’s inviting us into a compare-and contrast experience: as Jesus, the Christ, eternal ruler of the cosmos; is interrogated by Pilate, ruler of one time and space.

Most people, when faced with a ruler such as Pilate, would have had some fear, some deference; yet Jesus – while never being disrespectful – is able to communicate how temporary and diminished Pilate’s authority is over him. The rhetoric of the discussion is quite intense.
Asking the basic question “you are the King of the Jews?” suggests that Pilate may be hinting that Jesus may be in the realm of royalty…
And Jesus doesn’t limit himself, instead turning the tables on Pilate to ask the source of the question.
Not to be belittled, Pilate’s retort about his own religion and Jesus’ again shifts the ground under Pilate, when Jesus says his kingdom is not of this world.
And while Pilate pounces on what he suspects to be an “AH-HA!” moment with “You are a king, then!” – Jesus deflates the whole thing, differentiating between title and task.
“King is your word” he says – for he does not need a title to do his ministry.
He wants to bear witness to the truth: to the promises of salvation that God has assured God’s people for all time. To the truth of the ever-present love and grace that flows around us and through us. To the possibility of doing good, and turning to God – regardless of where we are in life, and in our journey.
He bears witness to his own reign – as being more awesome and amazing than anything that someone might try and usurp here on earth.

So what a powerful premise these scriptures give us as we wind up this liturgical year; as we prepare our hearts and minds to the Preparation of Advent, and beyond.
To emphasise the opportunity to love and serve, to engage in community, to assist the vulnerable, to do our best:
The scriptures invite us to look to our own lives, and how we celebrate the presence of Christ in our lives – and the influence of such a model of rule in our lives: to keep our focus on the guidance of God, and not be distracted by

I mentioned a few moments ago that this Sunday is comparable to a liturgical New Year’s Eve … and just as in that secular celebration we often set goals and resolutions for the coming year, perhaps we might borrow that tradition for our liturgical time today….
And set our sights on being the people that ascribe glory and honour and praise to our God…
The house serving the Lord that would make King David proud…
Who would greet the world with expressions of grace and peace, proclaiming the timelessness of God’s love, like John received in the Revelation…
The followers of Jesus who are not intimidated by the status seekers of the world, but who seek to hear the truth that Christ speaks to us all.

We come, as Christians, with the legacy of those who have walked before us; carrying the faith, leading by example, setting a goodly pathway for us to follow.
And now, the time is here for us to do the same for the future: for the Christians of the next years will learn of the reign of Christ by our faith expr4essions today.
How do we show the world that we follow the ways of Jesus?
How do we obey Christ’s commandment of love?
How do we extend the grace and mercy we have received into a world is not often seeing those realities?
And how do we honour the blessings we have received by being a blessing to others in our midst?

Truly: the choice is ours: the potential is unlimited: let us go into the world, celebrating the reign of Christ, by loving and serving the Lord.

Sermon, Remembrance Sunday (Pentecost +25; Year B)

 It’s been a week, hasn’t it.

A week of watching the news for updates of world events; of learning of loss of national inspirations, of energetic discussions about our forthcoming municipal elections, and everyone’s opinion of the new provincial cabinet.

It’s been a week.
There’s been a lot of noise. Of rhetoric; of distraction; of uncertainty. Just about anywhere you go, you can hear conversations about what’s going on in the world.

If we’re not careful, this noise can make us feel stirred up, fearful, distrustful… It leads to a darkness ebbing in that can make us feel isolated; segregated; torn apart.

And so today: with that in mind: I invite us to remember.

For we are not the first people in history to feel this uneasiness.
We are far from the first generation to feel collectively destabilised.

And so: I invite us to remember.
To remember: a word that means to intentionally bring to mind an awareness of someone or something.
To purposefully bring the past into the present – for a specific reason.
And in doing so, we re---member. We re-connect; we re-establish bonds.
To re-member someone is to re-build relationship; it brings back into the community.
To re-member some event is to recall the lessons learned – and re-apply them to our lives today.

To re-member is to reconnect.
Regardless of the noise of the world; to remember is to work to bring back together.

And today: in the readings for this Sunday, we see the example of the re-connection of families; in the reading of Ruth.

And the Gospel warns of what happens when folks try to position themselves over others; thereby increasing division.

Jesus instead invites contemplation of how we can find ways to connect; to use what we have, never discounting that the small things can be the big things; when they are shared with authentic humble hearts, for the re-connection of communities.

And the epistle demonstrates the blessing of our access to the promises of Christ; himself emptying his glory to re-build covenantal connection with all of us.

The scripture – that we are invited to read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest – can then tease out of us this week, ways that we can apply this call to remember – and re-member – the integration of our faith.

In coming together each Sunday; we come together despite our differences in sports teams and theology and politics and finances and… so on.

In coming together, we focus on what unites us: the love and grace of God, and the promises of salvation offered to us by our Lord Jesus Christ.

Every Sunday, we come together to remember His sacrifice; and to be re---membered into the body of Christ.

In the eucharist, we hear the words of Jesus inviting us to be mindfully conscious of him; but also to bring him to all that we do.
“When you do this, do it in remembrance of me”.

To act and live in remembrance happens when We put God at the centre; we acknowledge Christ as our connection to every one; at every time.

We remember.
And so on this Remembrance Day –

We re-member those whose sacrifice has been made overseas, and at home; for those who never came home; for those who weren’t whole when they came home. We re-member those who served here at home; for all who work for peace.

We re-member those who served in the past; and those who continue to serve; and all those who support them; for the sake of peace and justice and equality for all.

We re-member them; they return to our minds, and they remain remembered and loved by God.

We honour them, who have suffered in conflict that we may know peace;

And we commit to doing our part to live in peace.

For in remembering, and re-membering, we are shutting out the excessive noise that would drive us apart, and working – together – to weave us back together, into a community of neighbours, of peace-seekers, and peace-builders.
To re-member is to live in the light: the light of Christ that is promised, the light that God brought into the world; the light that the darkness can never – NEVER overcome.

So I invite us to remember. To re-member.
And to commit – through our own intentions and the grace of God – to never forget.

From the church of England, I share an Act of Commitment:
Let us pledge ourselves anew to the service of God and to each other:
that we may help, encourage and comfort others, and support those working for the relief of the needy and for the peace and welfare of the nations.

we pledge ourselves to serve you and all humankind,
in the cause of peace, for the relief of want and suffering, and for the praise of your name.

Guide us by your Spirit; give us wisdom; give us courage; give us hope; and keep us faithful now and always.
Amen.

Sermon, All Saints (Year B)

 We have just come through AllHallowTide – a 3-day time in the Christian calendar where we honour our dead.

Starting with All Hallow’s Eve – or Halloween
Continuing through All Saints Day (formerly called All Hallows Day) – when the canonical Saints are honoured; those people who are teachers of the faith and forerunners of the second coming.
And concluding with All Souls Day – on November 2 – a day where we remember those we love but see no more.

Many folks may find this segment of the calendar to be somewhat spooky, (we don’t like to think of the dead), yet, the church invites us to reframe that sentiment, to return to what these three days of celebration and commemoration originally intended.

And it’s this simple:
Hallow means Holy.
These are days designed to celebrate the holy folks who have influenced our lives.
The people who continue to lighten our paths with their words and actions. The nuggets of wisdom they left for us, the morals they conveyed to us, the teachings they shared with us.

And here’s a fun part about these things: they don’t have to be factual to be true and important.
The lives of the saints carry with them some mystery: and that’s okay.
The lives of our loved ones sometimes carry with them some mystery and unknowns – and this in no way invalidates or diminishes their positive influence on us and the world.

In fact, sometimes how we fill in the unknowns can enhance how we have been touched by those who have gone before us;
It can strengthen the relationship that we continue to have with those who live in our memory.
As C. S. Lewis once said: Death ends a life, but it doesn’t end a relationship.

And so in these three days, when we are remembering, and respecting, those relationships, we acknowledge – with joy – what keeps us connected: the power of Christ.
It is because of the promise to eternal life, through our Lord Jesus, that we continue to be blessed by the memory of our dead.

The scriptures today really emphasize this aspect of ongoing relationship.

The Wisdom of Solomon brings comfort to those who grieve, when he reminds us that “The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God” and they are at peace.
They do not suffer, they are not afflicted, they are being held in the source of all love.

The psalmist assures us that the earth is the Lord’s – and all that is in it. God transcends time and space!
There’s a Celtic tradition of thin veil – a time or place when the veil between this world and the next is so thin that one could practically reach through it.
The whole notion of All Hallow’s Eve fits in this tradition as an annual thin place, where the hand of God reaches to us.
This psalm confirms how God’s reach extends everywhere – that the entirety of the created order belongs to God. With the promise of blessing, and salvation, we hear repeatedly the call for glory to God – meaning honour and splendour. A powerful relationship!

The reading from the Revelation to John during his exile on Patmos is intended to bring comfort to the living; as the relationship is described in increasing detail.
This book, in its entirety, is a message of ongoing hope for relationship between God and the people of the world. And in this passage, in the age when the veil disappears, God will dwell with humankind, that death will be no more, that mourning will end, and that pain will be no more. What a gift for humanity.

The Gospel today addresses the reality of human loss: the natural and normal feeling of grief and desperation when we have lost someone we love.
These are emotions that even Jesus does not deny, or minimise; Mary and Martha have experienced loss. They are sad, disappointed, angry - and rightly so.
Yet here we can hear being described a foretelling of what the resurrection will be like: for we recall how in baptism we die to sin and rise to newness of life…
Here Lazarus is being raised to new life. This is not his resurrection; it is an earthly re-animation. Lazarus will remain human, he did, at some point, die.
But: in this temporary raising, an important thing happened: he was unbound.
For Jesus and Mary and Martha, this meant the literal untying of the shroud around his body.
For us, we can understand this as the metaphorical binds that prevent us from fully receiving the fullness of life. The binds that keep us from being fully open to the gifts in this life… From receiving the blessing of love as it is offered… from living in the comfort of belief.
For When we believe, we see the glory of God.

This glory: the honour and splendour and awe – it is a part of our relationship with God.
And we recognise that part of our relationship with God is shown to us – unveiled, revealed – through our relationships with each other.
What a great privilege, then, to celebrate the feasts of All HallowTide, as a thanksgiving for the love given and received in this earth.
To extend gratitude and considered appreciation for those who live forever in our hearts.
To be surrounded by the peace, comfort, and love of God, as we hold those sacred memories: confident and thankful that in the body of Christ, death does not release us from being in community with one another.

I close this holy time with a blessing for the sacred time of remembering with our heart, written by Jan Richardson in “The Painted Prayerbook”. It’s titled For Those Who Walked With Us
For those
who walked with us,
this is a prayer.
For those
who have gone ahead,
this is a blessing.
For those
who touched and tended us,
who lingered with us
while they lived,
this is a thanksgiving.
For those
who journey still with us
in the shadows of awareness,
in the crevices of memory,
in the landscape of our dreams,
this is a benediction.


On this day, in this season, in the company of the communion of saints, may you find yourself in a thin, thin place where heaven and earth meet and you receive what you need for the path ahead.

Amen.

Sermon, Pentecost +23 (Year B) - with Baptism

Our Gospel passage this morning is a really inspiring one; full of joy and promise and overall one that can remind us of the power of faith.

There are echoes of this in the other scriptures:
Job who declares “I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted”
A rather succinct affirmation of faith, that comes from the heart, and is part of a life-long focus of Job’s trust in the Almighty.

The psalm, of course, is a hymn of praise, celebrating the opportunity to be people of faith throughout our lives:
I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall ever be in my mouth

The Letter to the Hebrews culminates this affirmation that we, as humans, do the best we can, but are fallible; yet are known and loved by Jesus: our high priest, holy, blameless, undefiled, separated from sinners, and exalted above the heavens
…and this Jesus desires to know us - and for us to know him.

And the Gospel passage: the richness and depth and beauty of this passage!
It seems simple – Jesus and his friends, travelling; a blind man, begging. A chance encounter, that is life-changing… for the blind man, of course, but also for his community, and for the disciples: and for all of us who can hear it today.

For this short passage is one gorgeous example of how being close to Jesus changes US.
The ordinary is made EXTRAordinary
The worldly is made divine.
Because God wills it.

Poor Bartimaeus – he’s sitting there, and even in how we first hear of him, we know this is not a fortunate individual. Because even before we learn that he’s a beggar, we learn that he is despised. He is introduced as SON OF TIMEAUS: a name that can mean “the defiled one”.

So: this son of the defiled one, is lonely, dependent on the kindness of strangers, accustomed to being ignored and rejected and neglected.
And from this place of need, he calls out to Jesus for help.
For he sees Jesus – not with his eyes, obviously – but with his heart. He calls:
Son of David, have mercy on me.

“Son of David” a powerful statement in those days; acknowledging the lineage of the divine, the promised Messiah.
(For we remember, Jesus’ earthly dad was called Joseph – a carpenter)
Son of David, have mercy on me.

And the people do what people often do; they try to minimise distractions and interruptions; so they try to quiet him.
But the power of God will not allow it:
How beautiful it must have been for him to hear Jesus’s voice saying “Come Here! I want to see you.”
To Bartimaeus, that was not a statement of hoping for the future – it was a celebration of the present.
I want to see you means that I already see your existence: I recognise your humanity; I honour your being.
I delight in the presence of God’s love and light that is manifest before me in your personhood.
I see you.

And so: possibly for the first time, Bartimaeus was seen: not as the societal outcast that his blindness made him, but as a child of God.
For the first time, the other meaning of the word Bartimaeus was known.
For while society was happy with considering this man as the son of “the defiled one”, the other meaning of his name is “the honourable one”.

After his encounter with Jesus, the world sees Bartimaeus: not as one to be ignored; but as one that Jesus has loved, Someone that has been honoured by God.
The life-changing aspect of this encounter is not just that Bartimaeus has had his sight restored – but he is someone who has had his dignity restored.

This one encounter – the beginning of his relationship – with Jesus.
The Jesus who did not presume to change Bartimaeus without first engaging him in conversation.
Then Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?”
This is the response of relationship – of connection – of truly seeing.
It comes from knowing and being known.

It is what Jesus taught then; it is what Jesus invites us to today:
To see love in the everyday
To build community
To help others
To find opportunities to share grace
To be followers of Jesus: followers in the pathway of love.

The power of faith is life-changing:

Baptism does the same thing:
It takes us away from the ordinary world, into the arms of a loving God.
It celebrates the relationship that is already there with God, and with the church;
It shows the world the power of grace
It demonstrates to community the potential of connection.

So we celebrate: the move from what the world thinks is good enough
To the amazing assurance of God’s promises:
The promise of being seen; and known, and sought out: forever.
The promise of eternal life; with all those who have gone before, and all those who will come after.
The undeniable and unforgettable reminder of being part of a community that is called to love, to see, to know, and to celebrate each individual; helping them to come to know the special gifts and blessings that will be lavished upon them by the Spirit.
The power of prayer: to hold this all together, in ways that are bigger than we can comprehend; in that divine presence that stays with us all our lives.

So as we give thanks to God for today’s baptism with little {NAME}, we also remember and give thanks for every connection we have that reminds us of love: for this reminds us of God, and the privilege and joy of being truly and perfectly known by our ever-loving Saviour.
AMEN.

Homily; Centenary Evensong (20 Oct 2024)

 Ps 84; Gen 28.10-17; 1 John 1.1-5

Jacob, having discerned the revealed presence of the divine in that place where he found rest, declared
“Surely, the Lord is in this place – and I did not know it!”

It’s a wonderful sentiment; and one that is easy to understand – especially when seated in this house of prayer, that has been a beacon of faithfulness and worship for the broader community for so long.

But: while today we honour and celebrate that this place was designated a Cathedral some 100 years ago, we recognise that
Our praise is not limited to one day or year:
because God is not limited to one day or year.
That our worship is not limited to one building or place:
because God is not limited to one building or place
And that the church is not limited to one congregation:
because the people of God is an organic, living, family of the faithful.

For the presence of God – the connection between this world and the heavenly realm – is eternal, ongoing, in ways that are surprising, encouraging, comforting, and powerful.

The power of the Spirit moves in ways that are more than we can ask or imagine. And we do not know how God’s holy name will continue to be known, recognised, and worshipped in this place long after we have all gone.

But we do know that today: we give thanks.

We give thanks for the past: for without the faithful stewardship and commitment of those who were here before, we would not be here today.

We give thanks for the present: for the love and actions of so many help to give us the privilege to gather, and praise, and worship almighty God in such a place as this.

We give thanks for what is yet to come: the people who will respond to the dreams and visions that God has already put into their hearts, as together we profess and teach that “God is light and in him there is no darkness at all.”

God’s presence is wherever the people of God may come.
As the psalmist prayed: Happy are they who dwell in your house! They will always be praising you.
So let us pray and praise indeed.

Sermon, Pentecost +22 (Year B)

 I’m sure we’ve all heard – sometimes from our own mouths – questions or comments that really have not been well thought out or fully communicated.

An example, when I was teaching, a student asked if he needed to come to class. (Yes.). He followed up with “I mean, do we have to do the readings?” (Also yes). Flustered, he finally got out the whole questions – should they do the readings before they came to class. (Which is a good question for first-year undergrads!) (Also; yes.)

Sometimes, what we say just comes out differently than intended.
And there are many reasons for that: maybe we’ve not thought them through, or we’ve overthought things; maybe we’re excited or in a different headspace from where we should be. Or, if we just have the wrong words that come out (or are forgotten). Mistakes happen; and we can usually recover.

But sometimes, these questions or comments can show that there’s a different way of thinking that’s happening; they indicate a type of arrogance or grandiosity that is being presumed.
And that, if not addressed, can bring about strife and disconnect within communities.

That’s happening in today’s scriptures: as faithful people, people OF God, try to put themselves into positions where they are kinda Lording it over others.
Ah, the dreaded egos: so easy to fall into.

It’s what’s happening in Job: for his friend Elihu has named himself God’s representative, trying to give advice from a place that isn’t his… thus God speaks to Job with the reminders of God’s majesty.
It’s not that Elihu is acting out of malice, but out of ignorance and a lot of confidence. He means well – but he says a few comments that are a little bit… overstepping. God is God, and Elihu is not; Job is reminded.

In the letter to Hebrews, the community is being bolstered and strengthened in the faith; they were being influenced by some other factions to turn away from the way of Christ’s teachings. It’s helpful to remember that most of the epistles are written not as hypotheticals, but in response to the circumstances happening in those communities.

So, one can surmise that things are a little challenging, when the author implores the Hebrews to a place of community service and humble hearts; of the practice of servant leadership: not of arrogance and authority, but of caring to one another, responding to the needs of the community in ways that are faithful and fruitful.

They’re reminded that if someone seeks higher position in society, by means of putting others down, that they are not serving as Jesus himself has taught. That true leadership may deal “gently”, we hear, with the ignorant and wayward, as we are all human; prone to weakness, and not to presume our own greatness.

In the Gospel we have James and John, who have just heard 3 times Jesus foretell his own crucifixion and death – blurt out a demand. Boldly! To Jesus.

“Hey! God! Do whatever we ask of you!”
A little brash, to say the least. And their lofty demand to sit on either side of Jesus – IN his GLORY.

Not just at dinner (a big ask itself); but they are presuming a position of glory, and believe that they belong there; placing themselves above everyone else – their families, their friends, the other disciples: even above the family of Jesus himself. where they can be revered. With Jesus.

It’s a bit much; and it’s clear that they have either not understood what Jesus has been teaching them, or that they are so caught up in their own self-agrandising thinking that they presume this is okay.

It’s fascinating to hear Jesus’ response.
For he takes them back to their own thinking: and applies his teaching into it. He basically is allowing them to reframe their own way of thinking, their own expectation, and come to a renewed, more accurate, outcome: to a life of service and sacrifice.

The baptism of Jesus is a commitment to community; just as our baptism serves as a starting point in our life of faith: an initiation to a life of seeking and serving others, of respecting the dignity of all, of teaching the faith through word and action.

The Cup of Christ is, for all, a promise of victory over the grave; but is also the cup of earthly challenge; the cup of the last supper with his friends, a commitment to give of himself so that others may live. The blood of Christ; the cup of salvation: it was a heavy cup to drink.

Jesus here does not rebuke James and John: as with the other scriptures today, there is holy, gentle re-orientation and understanding that is offered. It is not punitive or derogative, but invites deeper reflection and consideration.

For those of us who hear these teachings in our world, we are likewise invited to consider how we understand leadership; how we understand Christian service.
• How often do we connect with God, like James and John, where we are dictating expected outcomes for our own benefit?
• How often do we raise the concerns of the most vulnerable in our communities, when we are speaking with those campaigning for political office – literally “civil service”
• How do we, as individuals and as a faith community, help build our communities in ways that are faithful and empowering, without enabling unhealthy patterns?
• How do we act in ways that the world knows who our Lord is; because we have shown them his glory through our service?

We do a lot: and we can do more. We can do differently!

For we can carefully and prayerfully consider how to emulate the teachings of God: as servants, leading with compassion and creativity, with faithful hearts and minds. For God has freed us to think of the world – and our place within it – differently. He has freed us not to seek to become great as the world understands greatness, but to honour the greatness of God as we serve others who are beloved of Christ.

As we go into the world, let’s do our best to be confident in our faith, while not overstepping our bounds; let’s be intentional in our thinking and in our conversations, that we are at all times reflecting the light of Christ that is within us.
Let us show the world, as much as we are able, that we are committed to being the family of God.
(Even when our words may come out wrong.)
Amen.

Sermon, Thanksgiving (Year B)

 This weekend we are delighting in the gifts of the harvest!

What a gift it is, to be able to connect with loved ones near and far, and share the blessings in our lives. Our phones ring and our social media feeds are already flooding with pictures of loved ones sitting at decorated tables; perhaps our own kitchens are just bursting today as we anticipate a special time of gratitudinal feasting, tonight or tomorrow.

In many of our homes this weekend, our conversations may invite us all to share one or two of the things that are touching our hearts right now.
We’re thankful for family that love us… for the friends that we have chosen to share our lives with… for the delightful good weather… for our health (even when it’s imperfect)… for the communities we live in… for our neighbours…

Alleluia! We are thankful. And we know that it is easy to be grateful for those we love and who love us.

So let’s continue in that same vein, but going a little bit deeper this time. .
I’ll bet folks are thankful for having some money saved up… for being so financially secure that we can get a loan or a credit card… for receiving an education…. for having fulfilling employment… for knowing where our next meal is coming from… for being able to pray, openly… for getting up, even with our aches and pains, from a bed… and having that bed under a roof… and even having access to a tap that flows with clean water….

And if these things have always been a part of your life: my goodness what good fortune to be thankful for!

And this is where Thanksgiving takes us: deeper. With deeper awareness of the gifts in our lives, we also share the resulting opportunity to be more deeply grateful.

So now the challenging part… things likely not shared as gratitudes around the table…
Like being thankful for pain: yet we know that pain helps us to appreciate life’s joys all the more.
Or for crying tears of sorrow: though we know that tears are holy water, liquid love that flows from a blessed vessel.
Or gratitude for making mistakes: awkward, but we are blessed if we have been given the chance to learn from our mistakes, to make reparations, and do better.

I think you get the idea – even the challenging things in this life can be an opportunity for us to grow, to improve, to strive to be the best version of ourselves.
These challenges also allow us to be more understanding when others are going through them; our sympathy and empathy increase with experience – and for that we are thankful.

Living with an attitude of gratitude means that even the things that aren’t life-changing - like the flowers in the garden or the funny joke or the stranger that paid for our coffee – These normal things can help us to get into the pattern of remaining thankful.

We’re reminded to do that today – in our secular celebrations and also in our sacred scriptures:
Joel re-orients the community to be glad for the basic local realities of soil, of flora and fauna, of nourishment – and by extension, of each other.
In the Psalm, a basic farm reality of planting and reaping sets the scene and tone.
Paul rejoices in his encouragement to Timothy, of the power of supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings being made for everyone, as a means to build up the body of God and strengthen the heart of each.

And in Jesus’ examples of food and drink and clothing – and of the role of faith.
Teaching us anew that God is here, in the ordinary-ness of everyday life. We are being invited to dig deeper into our own lives, our hearts and souls, and find ways to thank God.

For we have received the gifts of God:
The gifts of love, of welcome, of community, of inclusion.
The gifts of faith, of connection with the divine, of the Gospel truth.

And with ALL of these gifts; the ordinary and the holy - comes the privilege and the responsibility of giving back. And of paying it forward. Of re-seeding the world with the love that we have known.

The re-giving is in Joel’s reminder to care for the soil and animals and plants – for the nourishment of today and tomorrow; knowing that we – as God’s people – will never be put to shame.
It’s in the enthusiasm of the Psalmist who reminds us what great things God has done – and continues to do! for us – and we are glad indeed!
It’s in the simple happiness as Paul overflows with the awesome joy of prayer to chat with God, and of the assurance of eternal life through Jesus Christ.
It’s in the Gospel, as Jesus invites us to focus on the things in our lives that we can so easily overlook, or under-value, or take for granted.

This giving of thanks helps us train our brain to appreciate the profound goodness in our lives, striving for the kingdom of God, comforted that we are already surrounded by all that we need.
In giving thanks we delight in the gifts that God has placed here, for us to recognise, appreciate, enjoy: and to share.

For part of giving thanks is in giving; thankfully.
And as we celebrate Thanksgiving, we also honour Rogation – that time of planting.
The harvest is not just an abundance that mysteriously appeared… it is reaping the benefits of what has already been planted, and cared for.
And the harvest carries within it the seeds for the future: a promise for a season not yet here; a joyful commitment to a tomorrow that may not be ours.
Thanksgiving is a time of gratitude for the efforts of the past, for the present abundance that is ours, and for the promise and potential for the future.

So today as we give thanks for those who have come before us, and we honour the goodness of today with thankful hearts, let us also commit to what we seeds we are planting for the future:
Seeds of worship and praise… of compassion and kindness… of growing and nurturing faith… of thanksgiving and community… of possibilities that we can’t even yet ask or imagine: but for which God already has a plan.

May we walk in faithfulness, thankful for all that we receive, and for the potential that God is placing in our hearts and hands.

I’ll close with a quote from Melody Beattie: “Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial to acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, and a stranger into a friend.”

Thanks Be To God; this Thanksgiving, and always.

Sermon, Pentecost +20 (YearB)

 The Gospel this morning includes some aspects that are – for our modern ears – very uncomfortable and difficult to hear. And we jump right into the thick of it with this passage – some Pharisees testing Jesus, about divorce.

Pharisees, we recall, were a group of educated laypeople, usually scribes, who were doing their best to interpret the law of Moses. In doing so, they often questioned folks about particulars of the Torah. It generally was awkward when some Pharisees wanted to engage in theological debate.
Like today.

Because divorce, never something to aspire to, was especially harsh in the first century. It required proof of adultery, neglect, or physical abandonment. A man could arbitrarily write a certificate of divorce against his wife, which would dismiss her – what a polite euphemism for ‘casting her out’ – from the marital relation, but also from that family; and likely from her family (from shame) or distance. She had no leverage to prevent or refuse a divorce.

Women suffered economic, physical, and psychological uprooting. And their children were usually cast out with the woman, and carried shame; for it was a matrilineal society.

Parenthetically, a woman could not apply for divorce except in the most extreme circumstances; some Jewish scholars posit that a woman never could make such application.

So when Jesus responds to the Pharisees that they should refer to the teachings of Moses, he is encouraging them not only to recognise that there aren’t a lot of instances of divorce in the bible; (in fact, in Mark’s Gospel the only other mention of divorce is when John the Baptist criticises Herod for his divorce and remarriage to his sister-in-law)

But Jesus is also making a strong point that there were serious harms that came from divorce: a difficult time of division and vulnerability.
And those harms actually go against the law of Moses, and the tradition of the culture that they lived in.
For in divorce, the more vulnerable parties suffer disproportionate harm.
And Jesus has taught – the disciples, the Pharisees, the broader culture – and us! – Jesus taught the way of love. The path of compassion. The commitment of care – especially for those who need it most.

And this is where my colleague Philip Ruge-Jones points out a rather important nuance in the Gospel:
For when Jesus responds to the test, he is not suggesting that there is a one-time easy answer… He doesn’t ask what the law says about the man seeking divorce, but “What did Moses command YOU?”

These folks didn’t meet Moses, but they have studied the teaching and the tradition. They are experts to apply the written law as well as the oral tradition that had evolved.

He’s inviting them to find the most compassionate, kind, and faithful response to reduce the amount of harm that might be done. He is inviting folks to open their hearts – through the gift of blessing. Through an outpouring of grace.
Even when his disciples ask him again for more discussion about divorce, it’s helpful for us to realise that his answer speaks of care for the vulnerable, of extending compassion for all. It’s not about a legal outcome of a broken relationship; it’s about finding ways to practice respect and community.

Jesus emphasizes the dignity of all, and the way that all God has blessed us all.
We are all loved into being by the source of perfect love; we all bear the image of God.
Thus, how we treat one another should reflect not only the glory of God that has shone in our lives, but our respect and appreciation for the glory of God in the lives before us.

And it’s not always easy to apply this: when we’re dealing with conflict, when we’re in situations without clear outcomes, when we’re not sure what the future may hold. But the scriptures today take us to that place of opening our eyes and hearts to those who are experiencing vulnerability, and finding helpful ways to build community.

With Jesus, he invites the children to come to him; the children who have nothing to give him, who are in need of care.
And who are welcomed – and blessed – for God’s grace is not transactional, but beautifully abundant.

And in Job, we learn of the power of Job’s faith, where he and his family find themselves vulnerable; yet do not harden their hearts. Instead, we see Job leading his family through the example of grace and trust. He acts with integrity throughout the challenges that life puts before him.

The Psalmist speaks of their own acts and intentions, of disconnecting themselves from those who turn away from God in sin. Their prayer is one pleading for judgement, as they have been careful to avoid the life of plots and cruelty. They have acted to the best of their ability, treating those they encounter with that grace and dignity that all deserve.

And the letter to the Hebrews reminds folks of the power of Jesus; the humility of his status on earth, and the invitation that we all have to learn from him. To emulate his care and to strive to build community. “The one who sanctifies and the ones who are sanctified share one divine Father”, we’re told – and thus we, as readers of this letter, recommit ourselves to finding ways to live and love together as the whole family of God: thus becoming a space for the those who are vulnerable to be safe; and a place where we can be our true imperfect selves, confident in the grace our faith affords.

So we are called today: not to get caught up on legalistic definitions, but to be enveloped by opportunities to care, to heal, to pray, to love.
We recognise that some relationships come apart; and that we are called to respond to all with kindness.
We acknowledge that sometime the breaking of relationships can lead to a healthier environment; and we are called to respond to all with compassion.
We realise that reconciliation is difficult and ongoing work; and we are called to avoid judgement and instead offer the gift of peace.

And we are called to learn from Jesus, to restore the healing promise of love.:
To engage in the work of creating safe spaces, in the name of our Lord:
To see all our brothers and sisters as God-loved and as our kin;
To care for creation as preserving God’s masterwork
To realise that all life is divinely blessed,
and to find ways to honour the work of uplifting the vulnerable.

And we honour the truth of our own lives: for we have all struggled, and we have all journeyed in ways that bring us back, healed, renewed, and restored, to our relationship with God.
A relationship of kindness and compassion:
Of wholeness and love:
Of grace and of blessing.

May our hearts be assured of God’s eternal blessing;
And May we offer the blessing of kinship to all whom God loves.