sermon excerpts: "The Great Congregation" (Revelation 7: 9-17)

One of the first things that I found myself involved in when I arrived was the work of Lambton United Church Centre. I have great appreciation and respect for the work of camping ministry. It would be safe to say that I would not be in ministry were it not for the formative experiences I had at Camp Bimini outside of Stratford and Camp Menesetung north of Goderich.

A study that was presented to a London Conference Annual General Meeting cited an overwhelming majority (at least 80%) of leaders in the church today spent significant time at a camp. I am convinced that church camps are essential to the survival of the church. In fact there are many lessons that we as congregations could learn from the rustic and simple activities.

Like the saints that were gathered before the throne of God in the vision of the Revelation, the children that go to camp are diverse. We cannot assume that they go to the same school, that they have two parents, that they even go to church or know who God or Jesus is. For many, this is the introductory, and perhaps only, exposure to the message of God’s love.

Camps create community, they work hard at establishing relationships keeping safety and security at the forefront. Churches assume that community is already there, taking for granted that everyone already feels safe and secure when they arrive. That isn’t necessarily the case.

Camps take time to explain things, while there are traditions and stories, songs and games, they don’t assume that everyone knows these things and make an effort to share. Congregations are less forgiving in this regard. We don’t always make the effort to explain or teach what comes naturally to us. When someone new comes to church, there is always a few weeks’ or months’ of gradually learning how things are. If we’re lucky enough to have them coming back that long.

Within the camp community, everyone is assumed to be equal upon arrival. Gathering together for the first time, no one has any idea of another’s history or reputation back home. It can be like a fresh start for making friends.

The great commandment as written down in the gospel of John is at the heart of how we treat one another at camp. The kids, in their cabins, in their activity sessions, discover that they must love one another as God loves them. To experience such a community of acceptance and care can be a religious experience for them.

They are thrown together for hours on end, day after day, and all the conflicts and disagreements are accelerated. Yet within this dynamic is also the opportunity to address these conflicts and make amends. We all learn the valuable lessons about forgiveness, seeking solutions and working together. We can spend years in a church congregation with disputes and conflicts simmering below the surface, poisoning the atmosphere. Not so in a camp cabin, everything is out in the open.

Returning to the passage from Revelation where the suffering of the saints is ultimately rewarded, it bears mentioning that staff of our camps. It is a special kind of person who wants to work at camp. They sacrifice a lot, their social lives, their paycheques. Mind you, each of them would list how blessed they are to make friendships that will last a lifetime, to be paid to play with kids, and to make a difference in a child’s life.

Just down the road from us, Lambton United Church Centre marks its 46th anniversary. In 1961, Lambton Presbytery purchased the former Johnson Bros. Fruit Farm with the intent of establishing a camp "to promote Christian Education and fellowship utilizing the natural features of the property to portray the creative hand of God." It has done this through its summer camp program, facilities as a year round retreat centre, and a family campground. At its best, Lambton Centre is used by all people for spiritual, physical, and emotional growth; for leisure and recreation; and for a total living experience. At its worst, it’s southern Ontario’s best kept camping secret.

Camping Sunday is a reminder and a call to remember the wider creation from which the church was born and to which the church must serve. This Sunday and it’s mission is a message to simplify our lives, appreciate nature and the miracle of hundreds of children coming together to form communities of care and concern that rival the most committed and successful church congregations.

Before the throne of God, the praise and witness of the saints, sing to the wonder and majesty of a child’s faith coming into focus at camp, of the sacrifice of counsellors and program staff to give up their summer and their income, and the simplicity of command to love one another. As churches, as camps, as communities, God’s work is done in many different ways. We are not alone. Thanks be to God. Amen.

sermon excerpts: "In the End There's Love"

... At this point in my life, things became clear that it was time for me to move on. I guess I’ve been writing this sermon in my mind for several weeks now. Since the moment when I realized that I would not be here much longer.

There’s no identifiable moment or event that caused me uproot our lives. Pretty much since I’ve been here, I’d been receiving letters and calls from people and churches wondering if I was interested in a change. As I closed in on 7 years of wonderful ministry with you, I found myself actually wondering and thinking about these other opportunities.

If anything, it’s come to the point where I am too comfortable if that can be a bad thing. The edge is gone, that healthy feeling of anxiousness and uneasiness that pushes me to excel and imagine. I won’t call it being in a rut but the sense that I’ve done all that I can. And it’s not fair to you to have a minister who feels like he’s done all that he can, that this is as good as it gets.

Maybe it’s like the disciples fishing all night without a nibble and the sense of futility. They worked so hard and were left feeling, “is this all there is?” Shifting focus and going in another direction they pull in a catch of 153.

This is not to say that our time together has been empty. Far from it; much good work has been done and many memories created and I know that I have grown and changed for the better because of the people here. My family is grateful for the welcome and care extended to us, the feeling of belonging and safety that resides here is a testament to the faith and work of this community.

I know the news is too fresh and a lot to process all at once. You may not be ready to think of this as an opportunity for you as a pastoral charge, to take stock of the situation, define where you want to go from here and what it is you need to get there. Although we are in the season of Easter; remembering that which seemed like a loss, was a springboard for a new understanding and a new way of being.

One approach is to look at life as a set of losses and moving on. I’m not usually this negative, so I point to the unimagined possibilities of what could be and the bigger picture assurance that life and goodness will triumph. That is the Christian understanding of how our world works. But I am acutely aware that it’s easy for me to say this now because I know what I’m doing next.

Jesus is pointing the way to life without him. I won’t compare myself to him, but his final instructions for the disciples are about love. About demonstrating that love, through the care and tending to the flock, to the needs of others.

One of my favourite movies the independent Canadian movie “Hard Core Logo” a rock and roll, road trip story with dark side. It is a fictional documentary of a punk band getting back together for one last benefit tour. Everything unravels, secrets and lies are out in the open and a fistfight breaks out during their last concert.

Amid the chaos and confusion, as their world comes to an end, the bass guitarist who was really too sensitive to be part of a brash and in-your-face punk rock band to begin with, takes the microphone and offers his message, his way of making sense of the turmoil that is surrounding him. He just repeats over and over, “in the end there’s love, in the end there’s love …”

In the end, as Peter professes his love for Christ, that is all the disciples can hold onto. Jesus echoes, “feed my lambs”, “tend my sheep”, “feed my sheep”. That is what his love meant: nurturing and feeding the flock. His call is for Peter to follow him. Not literally, because Jesus is going places none of us can. But as we all move forward with each day, each passing moment, each decision we make, we can at least follow Jesus.

We can follow in the way of his love. By caring for others, reaching out beyond ourselves and acting with compassion with no thought to cost or inconvenience to ourselves. We believe in a force bigger and greater than ourselves and trust that things will work out in the end. And so, Jesus’ last words to Peter match his first ones: “Follow me”.

Life is full of new opportunities. Just ask Saul, who was on a savage quest to arrest those followers of Jesus. He was witness to the stoning death of Stephen, he did all he could to quell the threat these Christians represented to the status quo. He experiences the presence of Christ and struck blind. He has to trust the guidance and leadership others.

He was humbled and vulnerable and came to realize his place in God’s world. He was no longer one to judge and punish others. He experiences the light of Christ and sees that he could not keep doing what he was doing. And in this realization his name is changed to Paul.

There will be some competition between Peter and Paul as they both lead the new church in their own way, as they try to discover the path that God wants them to follow. And such is our time on earth. We are travel the same path for a while with others but eventually, we go our own way because circumstances change, we as people change. Certainly I am a different person than I was 7 years ago. And this pastoral charge is different that it was 7 years ago.

I don’t want to say that we’ve grown apart, because then it sounds like those platitudes that couples give when they’re breaking up. Maybe I don’t want to admit that that is what this is, a breakup. I haven’t done this before, and it’s certainly the toughest thing I’ve had to do in my ministry so far, “requesting a change in pastoral relationship” is the technical term which sounds rather detached and impersonal. That’s hardly the case, my heart would start pounding whenever I would think of this moment.

It has to be the right thing to do because it is so difficult for me. And it is not the end; there are a few months yet. We don’t have to say our goodbyes right now.

Life is small enough that we will reconnect and for a few months yet, our paths will continue to travel together as we follow Christ. Tending to the needs of the world, expressing our love and our faith, imagining what the future might hold, we venture forth. Uncertain, relying on our trust and faith that God will see us through.

And those familiar words ring ever more true: We are not alone. We live in God’s world. Thanks be to God. Thanks be to you.

It's True.

As the news is spreading through the community, I can confirm that (for once) the rumours are true and that I will be leaving Arkona-Ravenswood Pastoral Charge this summer. After 7 great years, the opportunity for new challenge and growth presented itself and I felt it was time to move on.

Beginning August 1, I will shift my ministry to Glencoe-Appin Pastoral Charge. Shelley and I have bought a house in Strathroy allowing us both to commute to our respective places of work.

Believe me that it is not a decision that I made lightly or rashly, it is the result of much thought, fret, worry and prayer. I have deep love and utmost respect for Arkona & Ravenswood United Churches. It is hard to leave such a positive and affirming situation.

So what's next? The next stage for the churches is to convene a committee (Joint Needs Assessment Committee, JNAC - get used to those letters) that will write a Joint Needs Assessment report detailing aspects of the congregations, churches and community. Lambton Presbytery will be in touch once the preliminary Presbytery work is completed. Once Presbytery receives, and approves, this report, the Joint Search Committee (JSC) can begin seeking out a candidate.

I know you don't like this news, but I thank you for understanding.

Blessings and hope,
Kenji

For Apr. 22: John 21: 1-19

After these things Jesus showed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias; and he showed himself in this way. Gathered there together were Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples. Simon Peter said to them, "I am going fishing." They said to him, "We will go with you." They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.

Just after daybreak, Jesus stood on the beach; but the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, "Children, you have no fish, have you?" They answered him, "No."

He said to them, "Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some." So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in because there were so many fish.

That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, "It is the Lord!" When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the sea. But the other disciples came in the boat, dragging the net full of fish, for they were not far from the land, only about a hundred yards off.

When they had gone ashore, they saw a charcoal fire there, with fish on it, and bread. Jesus said to them, "Bring some of the fish that you have just caught." So Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore, full of large fish, a hundred fifty-three of them; and though there were so many, the net was not torn.

Jesus said to them, "Come and have breakfast." Now none of the disciples dared to ask him, "Who are you?" because they knew it was the Lord. Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish. This was now the third time that Jesus appeared to the disciples after he was raised from the dead.

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?" He said to him, "Yes, Lord; you know that I love you." Jesus said to him, "Feed my lambs."

A second time he said to him, "Simon son of John, do you love me?" He said to him, "Yes, Lord; you know that I love you." Jesus said to him, "Tend my sheep."

He said to him the third time, "Simon son of John, do you love me?" Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, "Do you love me?" And he said to him, "Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you." Jesus said to him, "Feed my sheep.

Very truly, I tell you, when you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and to go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go." (He said this to indicate the kind of death by which he would glorify God.) After this he said to him, "Follow me."

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What feelings, thoughts, and prompts to personal action does this reading create for you? Share them as Comments or in an email.

sermon excerpts: "Contempt of Court"

Here was a case where the disciples were in direct conflict with the Jewish authorities, after having been put in prison for preaching Christ’s message and speaking in his name about new life, love in service and action, about the goodness and mercy of God, were found the next day doing exactly what they were forbidden to do. They escaped from their jail cells without any trouble and immediately resumed the thing they were arrested for in the first place.

So the Sanhedrin, the highest Jewish council like the Supreme Court, was hearing arguments about what to do next. Peter, in marked contrast to the way he denied knowing Jesus on Good Friday, is proud to state that they must do God’s will and that the laws of humanity hold no sway over the greater rules of heavenly justice and proclamation.

There is the heart of the matter: how can we known what is God’s will and what is our will trying to convince ourselves that it is also what God wants. What happens in the church when we can’t agree on what is the truth? This seems to be the issue at hand for the High priest and others of the Sanhedrin, meeting about Peter and his disruptive band of preachers.

It’s a shame that the reading ends where it does this morning because later in the chapter, a Pharisee named Gamaliel has a compelling insight. He noted that throughout the years, other popular and charismatic leaders have raised up forces and caused an uproar, but things settled down soon afterwards. He states the simple fact that if this movement was of God, it would endure. If not, it would perish and die out on its own. His exact words in verses 38-39 are: “38Therefore, in the present case I advise you: Leave these men alone! Let them go! For if their purpose or activity is of human origin, it will fail. 39But if it is from God, you will not be able to stop these men; you will only find yourselves fighting against God."

It pays to wait a little while and see if the picture become clearer. The longer term perspective of patience runs counter to our society. We want answers now; we’re used to things happening at the click of a button.

Even in the environmental outlook of global warming (which I still think is a misleading term) or climate change, we have only a couple hundred years of data to make our analysis. Given that the world is billions of years old, we’re making judgments based on a less than a thousandth of a percent of the full picture. ...

Which is not to say that climate change can be ignored. We need to find ways to make our environmental footprint softer, reusing and recycling more, reducing reliance on fossil fuels and conserving and preserving our clean water. But the longer-term picture is that we don’t know what happened in past, before the ice ages, before the continents drifted apart.

I have enough faith in God’s creation to know that life will continue in some way shape or form. What the environmental movement is trying to preserve, what is really at stake, is our present North American consumer lifestyle. We want to have our air conditioning, personal cars, and all the conveniences of technology; while still protecting the environment. Whether that is possible remains to be seen.

Back to the scriptures, we find that for all of our so-called progress, we, as people, aren’t really so different from our ancestors of centuries ago. As is the case in Acts, people are arguing; they are in court, stating their cases, pleading for their causes. They may be on different sides, but they are seeking the same thing: the truth. Although each person has their own idea of what the truth is.

The Jewish Sanhedrin saw a threat to the authorities and rebelliousness. The disciples simply wanted to share news about forgiveness of sins, news that needed to be spread. The world is a broken and disheartening place. People are hurt and cause hurt; guilt, anger and despair eat away at the spirit. We are good at beating ourselves up and shutting down emotionally.

God does not want that; Jesus came to remove such burden from our spirits. In Christ we are born into a life of forgiveness, of value and worth, celebrating life and love. That is the truth the disciples need to share and it is by God’s authority that they do so. We are called to live such a truth and know that we are forgiven, that life can be good and that all of us are loved.

No court or political body can put a gag order on such a command. Forgiven and free, we cannot be constrained by the laws of the world that promote short-term gain, power over others or silencing of truth. Let us offer our message of hope and goodness and know that it comes from God and it is good.

for Apr. 15 - Acts 5:27-32

When they had brought them, they had them stand before the council. The high priest questioned them, saying, "We gave you strict orders not to teach in this name, yet here you have filled Jerusalem with your teaching and you are determined to bring this man's blood on us."

But Peter and the apostles answered, "We must obey God rather than any human authority. The God of our ancestors raised up Jesus, whom you had killed by hanging him on a tree. God exalted him at his right hand as Leader and Savior that he might give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins. And we are witnesses to these things, and so is the Holy Spirit whom God has given to those who obey him."

What feelings, thoughts and prompts to personal action arise for you from this reading? Share them as Comments below or in an email!

sermon excerpts: "Mourning has Broken", John 20: 1-18

It was a busy holiday time when Jesus died. No one wanted to work, so they broke the legs of the crucified so that they would die quicker. Jesus was lucky to have Joseph of Arimethea and Nicodemus to take custody of his body and find a burial place for it.

Even though the rest of the Jewish culture was celebrating the Passover, the followers of Christ were stunned. In shock, in mourning, at a loss to explain what happened or express what they were feeling. And the rest of the city kept on going about its business, such as it was in the festive time of remembering God’s mercy and grace at work in the history of the Israelites.

It didn’t seem real, everyone else was going on with life and the man who triumphantly entered Jerusalem the week before was gone. Humiliated, tortured and discarded as another minor irritation in the great machinery that was the Roman Empire. It didn’t seem real, because it wasn’t really real. Does that make sense?

We know Jesus had risen from the dead. Which is fine and well and good for him. But what about those he left behind? That is always the question that has to be addressed in times of grieving and loss. Funerals and memorial services are not for the dead but the living.

The survivors of Jesus’ faithful followers were trying to figure out what to do next. As soon as she could, Mary went to the tomb and saw the stone rolled away. The disciples had to see for themselves and even then they didn’t believe. They didn’t remember the words that Jesus had spoken that foretold these events.

Mary Magdalene, in the garden, rebuffed by the disciples, took some time to gather her thoughts and collect herself. She sees Jesus himself and even then it took a while for the realization to come to light. Understandable. Anytime we lose someone important to us, things are foggy. Especially in a brutal and tragic way that Jesus was tortured and killed.

It is a shift in mindset, to suddenly move from mourning, grief and loss to happiness. On a smaller scale, we experience the ups and downs, thrills and heartbreaks in a pinch-hit homerun or last-second 3-point shot or an overtime goal or save. That is sports and admittedly quite low in the big picture priorities of the grander purpose of life.

Imagine the same rollercoaster of emotion on a scale of life and death, of national politics and cosmic evil and good. What happened that morning is bigger and broader than anything that we could every imagine or understand. Life and death would never be the same.

For the past 6 weeks we’ve been in the season Lent where we’ve been asked to examine our lives and how we respond to temptations, choices, extravagant generosity, forgiveness, promises and covenants. We’ve journeyed with our ancestors in faith as we remember these stories and figure out what they mean for us in our day and age.

... While some days it may feel like it, we will not be nailed to a cross and killed. We will never have to be. The grander perspective, the fuller picture of the Easter story gives us comfort and assurance that life will surprise us by breaking through the most desperate times. That joy and hope can spring up from a garden of tears and dismay. Life cannot be contained or subdued. Let us remember that at least; and savour the taste of a meal shared together; and as we sing of a morning walk in the garden, let us remember that Mary Magdalene, in her faith and struggles, experienced the wonder and amazement of God’s grace that remains alive and available for us all to this day.

sermon excerpts: "After the Parade" (Luke 19: 28-40)

Jesus received a hero’s welcome into the city. The disciples walked before him, shouting out words of praise and worship. People lay cloaks on the street before him, as they would for a prince or a king at the time of his coronation. This was victory; raise the flags, lift up the championship banner.

It was time for Jesus to publicly lay claim to the role of Messiah, of facing the expectations of the people; all while seated on a previously-unridden donkey. There is a lot to be made of the donkey and what it represents. The prophet Zechariah mentions how the Saviour, the new King, would enter the city on a donkey.

This would be a sign of peace. A mere donkey, not a grand parade of chariots and warhorses, but ambling along on a simple, hardworking animal, not used to this kind of fuss. Jesus came into the city, not as a conquering warrior, but as one of the people despite his heavenly heritage and divine destiny. The presentation of Jesus as Messiah was, like the man himself, humble and no greater than it needed to be.

The donkey was pure, untainted, no one had ridden it yet. In this regard, it was ritually pure appropriate for sacrifice. All this happened on the fifth day before Passover, the day that families would have chosen the lamb that would be prepared for the holiday meal.
...
So in this moment of triumph, as Jesus enters Jerusalem to fanfare and celebration, the Pharisees, the leaders of the community try to quiet the crowd. Too much noise and celebration would attract the attention of the Roman authorities. The Roman Empire is very used to dealing with uprisings and rebellions.

Yet the timing was such that this was the moment of revelation. All the world would know who Jesus was; they would not yet understand the true meaning of his ministry, but they would recognize this is a man of great power. Were the disciples to remain silent, the very stones would cry out. The message would be told anyway, it was unstoppable.

And it would have been a magnificent occasion if it wasn’t for the rest of the story. It is hard for us to imagine what it was really like that day for Jesus and the people involved. We know what happens next in the story. We know how things will unravel and degenerate into something ugly, shameful and distressing.
...
We can’t truly revel in the glorious entry of Jesus because we know how things end. We can’t enjoy the moment because we know the people will be exposed as fickle and disloyal. We can’t truly celebrate the coming of Jesus to Jerusalem because we know it is the beginning of the end.

Sometimes we live life that way too. We are afraid of enjoying the moment fearful that something bad could happen. We wait for the “other shoe to drop”; we wait for bad things to happen in 3s.

This afternoon I will be conducting a funeral service for a 59-year old man killed in a traffic accident. No rhyme or reason, for no other explanation than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Hearing such news or experiencing such loss could lead one to wonder “why bother?”

But what we know from the rest of the story is the fact that Easter is coming. The final chapter is one of resurrection, hope and life. That is why we bother, because the world needs to know that there is a reason to life, a meaning and purpose to who we are and what we do. We make the most of the time we have, we give fully of ourselves, humbly and simply, like a hardworking donkey, like Jesus in his ministry.

It is true, after every parade, there is a mess left in the streets. All sorts of trash, bottles and cans, assorted papers, cups, candy wrappers, flags, posters and all the things that people brought and cast aside. Or in Jerusalem that day, what to do with the leftover palm branches: gather them up and thrown in the trash? Leave them in heaps for people to pick up and burn? Cloaks trampled on and smudged, smeared and stained, as people reclaimed their items, shaking their heads at the mess they have to launder.

It can be a stark return to reality, after a time of great joy and togetherness, to face the task of getting things back to normal. After every holiday or vacation, there is the need for another day off to recover from it all. We live our lives in the days after the parade. We have memories of great times and a special occasion, but we cannot maintain such energy without burning out.

Such is life, we have moments of parade and great celebration, and struggle against a letdown. What is left for us to do after? The real living comes after the emotional high and adrenaline rush.

Jesus came to the city on a plain, ordinary donkey. It was a sign that he came in peace, that he wasn’t here to defeat an enemy or conquer those who were on the wrong side. It was also a reminder that hard work, determination, persistence, and humbleness was the way that we as plain, ordinary people would make a difference in the world.

So let us follow in the parade, living with the knowledge that the road ahead has bumps and potholes, but knowing that we go as a people redeemed and made whole by God’s love. We go together; we are not alone. Thanks be to God. Amen.

sermon excerpts: "Love Stinks"

It’s an evening of odours in Bethany. Mary, Martha and the newly resurrected Lazarus are hosting Jesus and his friends for supper. The smell of fine perfumed ointment filled the air. It clings to the nostrils and mixes with the smell of food finely prepared and a meal well enjoyed.
And, me being one to ruin nice moments would notice the smell of feet, hot and stinky. I’m like Judas, practical and critical. Why wasn’t the money used for this perfume not used to help the poor?

...The gift she offers is an expensive one, ointment of the highest quality, rare and pricey. It cost a year’s wages, maybe it was used for her brother Lazarus, when he was pronounced dead and he was buried in a tomb for four days before Jesus brought him back.

Maybe she was so thankful to Jesus that she wanted to show her appreciation in the most extravagant way that she could. That by her actions, she proclaims how important he is to her, that she believed in him and what he was teaching and what he could do. It was all an eerie foreshadowing of what would happen at the Last Supper where Jesus would wash the feet of his disciples, when later he himself would be dead and buried, treated with burial spices, ointments, and herbs.

Poor Mary. She offers so much of herself in that moment, supremely vulnerable, only to have Judas very publicly criticize her. He was a prominent member of the disciples, being the treasurer and all, he carried a degree of respect and importance within the group. So regardless of his motives (and I have some sympathy for Judas, not for him being a thief, but how he’s portrayed in this story being on the wrong side of history), he has good deal of influence among those gathered in that house.

And he makes a valid point. Hasn’t Jesus always taught that we should tend to the poor and needy, that those who do not have enough should be our first priority, that we build up one another so that the world may be a better place? Didn’t Jesus preach about not being overwhelmed by the size of the world’s problem but imagining what could happen if we took action?

Yes, the poor will always be with us; that’s true enough. But the fact that Jesus is quoting this fact and admitting defeat disturbs me. But Judas wasn’t asking a genuine question, so maybe it didn’t deserve a genuine answer.

When Jesus states this fact of life, he is standing up for Mary. He is defending what she did. He takes her side in a time of great humiliation and guilt. All she was trying to do was a nice thing and got taken to task for it. Her heart was in the right place, putting her faith and belief into action.

There is always time to tackle the sorrows of the world; let’s take a moment to celebrate and remember our blessings, to value and cherish the people that are important to us. We all know how quickly and unfairly we can lose our health, our loved ones, our safety net.

...That very supper in Bethany had the lingering presence of death all around this story. In the previous chapter, Lazarus was just recently dead himself. And we know the coming story of betrayal, arrest, torture, and execution of Jesus the Christ. The smell of ointment intended for the grave hung in the air, a pleasant and expensive reminder of our mortality and the suffering we all face in times of loss and grief.
...
I suppose it’s kind of like Shelley and I taking our cruise for the 10-year anniversary. That’s an occasion that we’ll only have once. Sure all of those dollars could be better used on the kids, for an eventual down payment on a house or to the Mission and Service Fund or any other charity.

But we wanted to take the time to cherish one another and do something special that will strengthen memories and relationship. We choose to embrace life and love and the opportunity of the here and now. Judas might say that it’s another display of prodigal extravagance, reckless spending that makes no sense, outstripping the occasion. The Judases of the world can say what they want. It won’t change what is in the hearts of those of us who choose to live life, giving fully and freely in the spirit of what God has given to us.

Mary goes above and beyond what was accepted and acceptable with her offering. Jesus Christ went to the cross, with the smell of that evening’s ointment treasured in his memories. He suffered greatly for the sake of humanity, offering a gift that is excessively extravagant, going beyond what is appropriate and proportional. Such is the grace and generosity of the holy divine who loves us; surely the least we can do is respond with the same reckless abandon, heedless of the cost and embracing the life that enfolds and surrounds us.

for Mar. 25: John 12. 1-8

Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him.

Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus' feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.

But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, "Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?" (He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.)

Jesus said, "Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me."


What feelings, thoughts and prompts to personal action arise for you from this passage? Share them as Comments below or in an email!

Sermon excerpts: "Family Ties"

... New beginning is exactly what Jesus was preaching in the parable of the Prodigal Son. The Pharisees and scribes have been accusing Jesus of inappropriate behavour and ask him to defend his actions. Why would someone claiming to be as honourable and pious as the Messiah stoop to associate with riff raff like prostitutes and outcasts, sinners and tax collectors, the way that Jesus was?
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Jesus replies with a series of parables. He imagines how a father welcomes back a son who squandered his inheritance and another son who resents the fuss. It begins with a rather rude and unconventional demand of the younger son.

It would be like me going to my father and saying, “Dad, seeing as you’re going to die and leave me some money as inheritance, why don’t we just skip ahead and you give me the money now?” The implications were clear that the father is now dead to the son and that the son had no use for his father apart from his money.

He embraces the figurative death of his father and runs off to a faraway land and in prodigal style, lives recklessly and extravagantly. Of course, the money runs out and he finds himself working on a pig farm. Definitely not kosher, this is a Jewish man tending to a herd of religiously unclean animals. He’s so desperate that he’d eat the food the pigs get.

His last resort is to return home and beg to be taken back as a hired hand. The word prodigal means “spending money or resources freely and recklessly; wastefully extravagant”. This also describes the father. He brings out the best robes and rings, kills the fatted calf which would only be done when hosting a visiting dignitary of great importance or for the wedding of one’s child. In his relief and joy, he goes overboard.

When the older son learns of this, he becomes angry. It is interesting to note that the younger son in his darkest hour decides to return home to become a “hired hand”. The loyal, hard-working older son who’s been home all this time, describes his years of work as “slaving” for the father. We see how the sons see themselves.

The parable ends abruptly. I can’t imagine that the conversation finished with the father’s simple explanation, “this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found”. There had to be more conversation; but what happened next?

We imagine what life would be like for the family after this event. Did the younger son stick around and did the older son forgive him? Were they able to be a family after all? Or did the younger son pick up and go on another misguided adventure? Was the grudge too great to let go of and did the older son smoulder with anger?

It gets us thinking about our own families, our own lives and the times we’ve been hurt or unappreciated. The times we messed up so bad that all we can do is swallow pride and hope for the best. Or the times we’ve seen someone else get away with something and not pay the consequences. It can be hard for us to see grace and forgiveness at work; especially if we feel that is not deserved. Forgiveness is tricky business:

"Forgiveness is giving up the right to retaliate. Forgiveness is the willingness to have something happen the way it happened. ... Forgiveness is never dependent on what the other person does or does not do; it is always under our control. Forgiveness is giving up the insistence on being understood… For those who accept and practice this discipline, there is a release of energy and a sense of freedom." (Upper Room Books: For Everything There Is a Season, 1988)

It’s true. It takes a lot of time, energy and effort to stay angry with someone, to bear a grudge to keep that bitterness alive.

We wonder a lot about what happened next in the story. What about what happened before? Why did the younger son feel so compelled to cut off all ties with his family? That he wanted his father dead. How badly did he feel that he had to live his own life, was he trying to escape the shadow of his responsible older brother?

Very quickly we find ourselves wanting more information to fill in the blanks. Where do we find ourselves in this parable? the father, the older son, the younger son? (although I’ve heard of writers trying to imagine themselves as the fatted calf). I think there’s an element of all those people in us.

There are times when we’ve been so happy at the prospect of a reunion, a restored relationship, that all we can do is celebrate like the father. There are times when we recognize how incredibly wrong we have been and can only hope that our apology will be heard, not expecting forgiveness.

Or we’ve been the oldest son feeling unappreciated, unnoticed, and taken for granted. This is a direct comment to the Pharisees and scribes criticizing Jesus. They’re feeling left out that Christ is spending so much time with the others, or his implication that enough isn’t being done for the outcast and downtrodden.

We see a similar kind of phenomenon happening in our churches. We devote so much time and energy to attracting others who are not involved that we forget to pay attention to those who are. We might begrudge dollars that are directed to Mission work and other charities outside of our community, because that money is needed here. It isn’t a lack of faith, per se, but there is fear that there won’t be enough to go around.

The prodigal father had limitless unbounded love for both sons. Jesus identifies such love in through parable, for Pharisees and sinners, for us and all others. When we return to God’s love, there is always a celebration.

for Mar. 18 – Luke 15: 1-3, 11b-32

Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them."

So he told them this parable:

There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, 'Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.' So he divided his property between them.

A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything.

But when he came to himself he said, 'How many of my father's hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands."'

So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. Then the son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.'

But the father said to his slaves, 'Quickly, bring out a robe--the best one--and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!' And they began to celebrate.

Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on.

He replied, 'Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.'

Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. But he answered his father, 'Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!'

Then the father said to him, 'Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.'

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What feelings, thoughts, and prompts to personal action does this passage evoke for you? Share them as Comments below or in an email.

sermon excerpts: Perils and Promise

Isaiah is offering a banquet for those who are in need but cannot pay. That described the Israelite people caught in the upheaval of exile. It was a helpless and hopeless situation that he, and they, found themselves in. The mighty Babylonian Empire swept through the land and conquered the Israelites, destroying the city of Jerusalem, levelling the grand Temple and undoing all the holy promises that God had made.
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Isaiah is asking the impossible: trust and believe that something great and wonderful is coming. We will be fed and nurtured. Is this more empty hope and false prophecy? We often find ourselves mired in depression, grief and loss, paralyzed to do anything, to see our way out of our situations. Such was the dilemma of Isaiah and his words sounded hollow to many of his colleagues.

The Babylonians were experienced at conquering other nations and had built a strong empire. They went through Israel and deported, exiled, the leaders of society, the highly-educated, the talented artists, the strong military minds, and sent them to far-off Babylon, now Iraq. Isaiah was one of these people.

While in this strange and foreign land, they were able to own property, pursue their trade, even worship in their faith. Mind you, there wasn’t a Temple, but they made do. The captured exiles didn’t really feel like they were in prison or mistreated, so there was no real incentive to organize and rebel or try to escape.

After a number of years, those who remembered the homeland died. The new generation arose knowing only a decent life in Babylon and stories of the far-off land of Israel. At the time of this particular writing, the Persian Empire and risen in power and overthrew the Babylonians. It was quite likely that the Israelite exiles were going to be allowed to return home. This posed a lot of questions and uncertainties.

The land to which they will return had been overrun by neighbouring countries, Moab, Edom, for example, and the city of Jerusalem was still a wreck. How hospitable were the people who were left behind going to be when this new population comes marching back to the homeland?

It is easy for us to understand and experience that fact that bad things happen in life for no reason. Illness, disease, accidents, natural disasters, wars, abuse, are generally democratic in the sense that no one is immune, everyone is eligible to suffer from these things. There is no rhyme or reason why or why not.

We can accept that we don’t deserve these things; maybe these things just happen and that is because the world is a fallen and imperfect place. What is more difficult to accept is the fact that the opposite is also there for us. An endless and wonderful banquet of celebration and goodness awaits for us. There is no cost, no price, freely given.

Yet we fret that we’re not worthy or deserving. Somehow we have to earn this goodness. It would be wrong to accept it.

But that is exactly what Isaiah is trying to tell the people. Listen up, remember the glory of King David? That can be ours again. Don’t try to make sense of it; God’s ways are not ours. Our lives are short and limited, God’s presence is mighty and eternal. We cannot see the big picture or even know where the path of greater good lies. We only know our part and our part is live the best we can with what we’ve been given. Make the most of our chances.
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A banquet has been prepared; it awaits us, freely offered, freely available. All we have to do is overcome our sense of unworthiness and come to the table. All we have to do is cast aside our suspicions that this is some kind of scam perpetrated by some cosmic con artist. All we have to do is follow in the way of God – justice, kindness and compassion for one another and ourselves.

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for Mar. 11: Isaiah 55.1-9

Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food.

Incline your ear, and come to me; listen, so that you may live. I will make with you an everlasting covenant, my steadfast, sure love for David. See, I made him a witness to the peoples, a leader and commander for the peoples.

See, you shall call nations that you do not know, and nations that do not know you shall run to you, because of the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, for he has glorified you. Seek the LORD while he may be found, call upon him while he is near; let the wicked forsake their way, and the unrighteous their thoughts; let them return to the LORD, that he may have mercy on them, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.

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What feelings, thoughts and prompts to action does this passage evoke for you? Share them as Comments below, at Bible Study on Tuesday morning, or in an email.

sermon excerpts: Starstruck (Genesis 15: 1-12, 17-18)

... Abram is facing a similar kind of mid-life crisis. He’s depressed and feeling that his life has been a waste, that for his faith and trust in God, he’s still come up empty. He has no heirs, no homestead to call his own. We get a glimpse into society at the time as Abram offers his objection to God. Eliezer, a slave, would receive the inheritance.

Is that such a bad thing? For Eliezer who has laboured for him for so long, why wouldn’t he be entitled to benefit from his loyal service for his master? It wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen. But then again, I’ve never owned a slave or lived in a world where such practise was accepted.

Abram’s another one of the lucky ones who get to interact with God, one-to-one. He can complain directly and receive a response. God reminds him of previous promises of innumerable descendants and a prosperous land. Look in the night sky and try to count the stars. Such will be his family and the unending heavens the scope of their influence.

That’s us; we are the stars, descendants of Abram, the product of his faith in God’s promise. We glimmer and shine, filled with the light of infinite care and compassion. If only it was that simple.

We are not the only descendants; the human family is diverse and diffuse. Jews, Muslims and Christians all lay claim to Abram as forefather. This means we share a wonderful connection through the ages and a common history with millions of other faithful people of the Holy God, Yahweh, Allah.

But the world being the way it is, we also believe God reserved the Promised Land for us not them. Three major faith traditions lay claim to the entirety of the Holy Land from Egypt to the Euphrates River of Turkey, Syria, Iraq, Kuwait into the Persian Gulf. It was an impressive promise made to Abram at the time, but it is fraught with conflict and turmoil today as those three sets of descendants all seek to benefit from this promise.

This covenant promise was sealed amid the butchery and bloody task of preparing a cow, goat and sheep, as well as a couple birds as sacrifice. Some circles of thought base the phrase of “cutting a deal” on this ritual. In such a ritual, the two parties of a covenant walk together between the two halves of the animals as a pledge that they are now one, that they would face the same consequence if they were to break the covenant agreement.

It is important to note that only God, symbolized by the fire, passes between the sacrifices. Abram merely watches; it is a one-sided deal. All the action, all the obligations, were on the part of God. Abram didn’t have to do anything to receive this promise.

... Such is his legacy. What would ours be? We can relate to Abram’s struggle; even as churches, what impact has our ministry made in the world? What would happen if we ceased to exist? Would anyone notice?

The questions that the scriptures today ask how do we respond to unanswered prayer? How do we approach a difficult task that means personal harm and vulnerability? How do we receive a gift that surpasses anything that we deserve or could repay?
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We know there is profound delight and joy in the promise of children, in being home. That is God’s promise to Abram and we are part of that star-spangled promise. There are too many stars in the sky to count. I remember when a million used to be a big number. It still is. My 8th grade teacher told us if we spent $1000 everyday, it would take almost 3 years to spend a million dollars.

Millions of stars in the night sky, of descendants for Abram. The immensity of God’s promises amaze and astound us. Yet they don’t often present themselves in ways we expect. Knowing what we know now about the stars, the vast expanses of the universe, those pinpoints of light as the galactic anchors of other worlds, we can find ourselves feeling very small. When we pause long enough in our daily routines and ask the big questions about life, meaning and existence, it can get overwhelming. Which is maybe why we don’t contemplate the magnitude of all creation and our wee part in it.

That is, until we remember that we are the stars. We are part of a larger covenant and an eternal promise that will shine on through all ages and in all places. We are not alone. Thanks be to God.

sermon excerpts: Season of Lending

... In Deuteronomy, we catch up with the Israelites on the road, coming to the blessed end of that decades long migration. While they were still in the desert, Moses is preparing the people for the good life that is coming ahead. When they get to the Promised Land, not if, they were to do these things: give thanks to God, offer the first fruits of their labour, remember their story and celebrate.

First things first, offering thanks and demonstrating that fact by giving the first of what we receive from our labours as sacrifice to God. Moses details the how and where to do this, go so far as to offer the words that need to be said.

These words summarized the journey so far: Jacob, a wandering Aramean, was their ancestor who found success for himself in Egypt. After a period of prosperity, things turned sour for the Israelites and they were living in tortuous slave conditions. God saw the trouble of the people and delivered to a new land of their own.

Which brought them to their near future, newly established in the Promised Land and enjoying the bounty of its rich fields and generous climate. This ritual of thank offering serves as a reminder of how volatile our own situation can be, how quickly a time of plenty can turn to a time of great need.

We are all descendants of that wandering Aramaean, Jacob. Aren’t we all relatives of immigrants to this place, if we go back far enough in our personal history? We don’t remember often enough all that our ancestors have done, facing and overcoming difficulty, trial and tribulation.

Paying tribute to God first as well as remembering our past, are reminders that the successes and blessings in life we have, are not our own. We couldn’t have done it ourselves, that we cannot get through life ourselves. We rely on the work of those before us, whether we acknowledge this or not.

It is healthier to remember this, to be humble about our place in life. So that we don’t forget who we are, what has shaped us. And then, following Moses’ instructions, we can celebrate and rejoice with the priests, the foreigners among us, because it is an open invitation and calling. God’s blessing is available for everyone.

So we must keep remembering to give thanks first. We offer thanks for our particular situation, for the imperfectness of who we are and the temptations we face. In doing so, we remember the bigger story, feel connected to a larger part of history, and of community. Such a sentiment runs counter to the temptations of Christ where he was urged to selfish and self-indulgent acts.

In the season of Lent, the Christian story prepares for betrayal and loss, anguish and upheaval. It’s forty days long, not including Sundays, to mirror Jesus in the wilderness and a reminder of Moses and the people of God working their way to the Promised Land. The season of Lent is not related to the past tense of the verb “to lend”. It’s actually connected to the idea of length: the days are getting longer in this time of year.

But I’m going to set aside the grammar and suggest that aspect of lending and borrowing is still there. We are living on borrowed time. The blessings we enjoy are not of our own doing. That which we cling most tightly to, aren’t ours to begin with. Our strengths and assets are borrowed from the efforts of others.

For the journey that is about to be taken, we see that all the obstacles and shortcuts are brought forward to Jesus in the desert and he is able to move beyond the selfish and self-interested desires of the human heart. As he gave himself to his mission and ministry, let us in turn give of ourselves in service to others with thankfulness in this season of Lent and lending.

for February 25: Deuteronomy 26.1-11

When you have come into the land that the LORD your God is giving you as an inheritance to possess, and you possess it, and settle in it, you shall take some of the first of all the fruit of the ground, which you harvest from the land that the LORD your God is giving you, and you shall put it in a basket and go to the place that the LORD your God will choose as a dwelling for his name.

You shall go to the priest who is in office at that time, and say to him, "Today I declare to the LORD your God that I have come into the land that the LORD swore to our ancestors to give us."

When the priest takes the basket from your hand and sets it down before the altar of the LORD your God, you shall make this response before the LORD your God:

"A wandering Aramean was my ancestor; he went down into Egypt and lived there as an alien, few in number, and there he became a great nation, mighty and populous. When the Egyptians treated us harshly and afflicted us, by imposing hard labor on us, we cried to the LORD, the God of our ancestors; the LORD heard our voice and saw our affliction, our toil, and our oppression.

"The LORD brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with a terrifying display of power, and with signs and wonders; and he brought us into this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. So now I bring the first of the fruit of the ground that you, O LORD, have given me."

You shall set it down before the LORD your God and bow down before the LORD your God. Then you, together with the Levites and the aliens who reside among you, shall celebrate with all the bounty that the LORD your God has given to you and to your house.

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What feelings, thoughts, and prompts to personal action does this scripture evoke for you? Share them as Comments below or in an email.

sermon excerpts: The View from Here (Luke 9: 28-36)

... Transfiguration is hard to explain: metamorphosized, transformed, physically altered, maybe a change in appearance. What of substance? We find the same Jesus is acclaimed and celebrated by similar words as at his baptism, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!" Only this time, like laundry detergent, his whites are whiter and his colours brighter.

...The reaction of the disciples was to build something. To commemorate this wondrous event, to mark the spot where other people may now come and visit, some booths, tents or shelters need to be constructed. They didn’t want to forget this moment or this place, so they would make certain that its memory would be honoured.
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Peter’s suggestion is forgotten when a cloud descends upon them and casting a great shadow. The voice from heaven offers the reminder that Jesus is the chosen son of God, that we are to listen to him. No shelters were built. No grand announcements about what happened that day with Jesus, Moses and Elijah.

The temptation is to stay on the mountain top. Yet if we try to stay on the mountain we lose sight of what is going on around us. From high above, the world can look peaceful and calm. But distant.

Jesus came to earth. He, as God’s real presence in the world, did not remain in heaven watching things from above, distance and safe. He came to live among us, to fall into the valleys and know the pressures and strain that we as mortals live through. He lived as a person with limits on his time, energy, patience and good humour. At some point, we all hit our breaking points. How many times did Jesus lose patience with his disciples when they didn’t understand his point? How angry did he get in the Temple where threw out the moneychangers?

And that is why the mountain top moments of clarity and assurance are so important: to sustain us through the valleys of life. We hold onto memories of what can be, the vision of past glories, so that we might work to making that happen again, to finding it once more in our lives. Only we need to be careful that our memory doesn’t cloud the current reality of today, that our vision needs to fit into what is possible for our time and situation.

On the weekend, Reiko and I had a great time clambouring on Snow Mountain, which is what she calls that great peak of snow in the parking lot by the manse. I’d help her climb to the top where she could touch the tree. She’d look around and point out all the buildings she could see, that shed, that garage, there’s the basketball court. An airplane in the sky was suddenly that much closer. The world is always more enchanting when seen through a child’s eyes, especially from a child on a mountain.

We’d slide down to the ground again and climb back up. And it is hard work getting ourselves up to that point again. The same toeholds and handgrips aren’t there, we had to navigate a new way. And making adjustments for a three-year old’s bootsteps is extra effort. But going with someone else was more rewarding, helping someone else find that vantage and viewpoint also broadened my horizon.

Which is why Jesus invited the disciples to be part of this moment, in prayer on the mountainside. This was a special occasion because Jesus usually liked to be alone in times such as these. He’d leave the disciples behind as he ventured into prayer in solitude.

The season of epiphany comes to a close with further revelations of who Jesus is and discovering exactly what his mission is about. The season began with a star in the sky above Bethlehem. It continued with the spirit, like a dove, attending the baptism of Christ and the words of acceptance from Heaven. We hear those words again, with a light shining from within Jesus upon the summit and understand that Moses and Elijah are also allies of our mission.

What would come out of transfiguration of our congregation? What might look different? The cosmetic changes are easy – get rid of the cobwebs and dust, fix up the building. Sure, our church is quaint, well-kept, a delightful country church.

But what would be different about us? The church is less about the building and more about the sense of welcome and belonging. It is about people’s willingness to be here and be known, about people inviting a community into their lives. We are here to share the joys and sorrows of our life, and our families, willing to risk being hurt.

We are transfigured when we express and share our faith, our doubts and our hopes. Working to sustain and nurture our spirits, giving words to the meaning of life, our understanding of where God is, how to live as morally responsible people, how to make a difference in the world. How can we reach out and make the world a better place? How do we bring light to darkness, offer hope in the face of evil?

I’ll end with a quotation from Martin Luther King, Jr., 27th January 1965: "I must confess that I have enjoyed being on this mountaintop and I am tempted to want to stay here and retreat to a more quiet and serene life. But something within reminds me that the valley calls me in spite of all its agonies, dangers, and frustrating moments. I must return to the valley. Something tells me that the ultimate test of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and moments of convenience, but where he stands in moments of challenge and moments of controversy. So I must return to the valley."

Yes, we know the valley awaits and it is there that our faith will truly be tested and put into action. But for now let us remain on the mountain just a little longer, we know such moments are few and far between. Let us, like Peter, be astounded, amazed and appreciative of the moment where we feel the connection to the power and the purpose of God. Let us marvel in our discoveries and new understandings of Christ and from a higher vantage point, see where our paths as people, as a church, will take us.

sermon excerpts: I Hope Not

... The world today, much like the world of Jesus time, sees people who are poor, hungry, and disrespected and figures they only have to blame themselves. One difference, we, in our day and age, have been able to unhinge our physical health from our moral lives. No longer do we assume that sickness befalls evil people, that disease is punishment for some unconfessed sin. We accept that cancer is an equal opportunity disease that can strike any of us regardless of who we are, how much we own or how righteously we live our lives.

But the other conditions of our life remain our responsibility – our income, our reputation, our employment, our happiness. ...

There is tremendous value to the hardworking, never-say-quit attitude, such as that found in the congregation here in the work and care for the church; but it is a dangerous trap that leads to unnecessary guilt and worry. The fact is there is too much that is out of our control that affects our life situation and that our story is always more complicated than our bank balance, housing situation or reputation in the community. And even if God knows our story and cares compassionately and deeply for each of us, that doesn’t matter much in the opinions of those who like to talk about other people’s business.

Jesus was going against the grain by seeking out the sick, those physically ill and those afflicted spiritually. The kingdom of God’s reign that he was bringing defied all the social conventions of who deserves greatness and status. But before we all get too comfortable and cozy with the Messiah, he goes on the attack. His words of blessing and compassion are suddenly harbingers of doom and distress.

This kind and caring healer is suddenly pronouncing sorrow and woe upon those who are happy, well-fed and well-respected. It seems that there is only so much wealth in the world, or food or happiness. Those that hoard it for themselves do so at the expense of others. We are all connected to one another; perhaps this is another expression of this fact.

Is this true? I hadn’t really thought of it that way until this week, and I don’t believe that is the case, but I can see how that could make sense. That thought doesn’t prompt us as people to leave aside some wealth or food or happiness for someone else, it compels us to stockpile even more.

...we live in an imperfect, entropic world. When Luke was writing his gospel, the church was in a time of persecution. The Roman Empire was actively seeking out, arresting, torturing and killing people who professed to be Christian. Such pioneers of faith were truly reviled and hated, by their own families and friends even, yet they held fast to their beliefs.

False prophets were ones that told people what they wanted to hear. You can imagine that false prophet would be well-liked, have a wide network of friends and connections; but their truth was not the truth. In those days of persecution, telling others what they wanted to hear might help you keep your life, but there would be little value in it.

The truth often makes us squirm. If it makes us uncomfortable, then it is a blessed disturbance. Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain offers us truth and hope. But it is a complicated messy hope, that can challenge and discourage us. Real life is like that, and our faith is meant to be lived out in the real world. We are not alone, thanks be to God.