Grounded in Ambiguity

 All our sermons through Lent begin with this quote from sculptor and environmentalist Anthony Goldsworthy. We often forget that we are nature. Nature is not something separate from us. So when we say that we have lost our connection to nature, we have lost our connection to ourselves.

 

Our Lent journey continues this morning standing on the land with Abram and Sarai.

An intricate and diverse natural landscape surrounds them: vast flood planes of the great Tigris and Euphrates rivers; pastures of grass and scrubby trees; wilderness of rocky plateaus, shifting sands, and dry riverbeds; in the distance smoky horizons suggest a vast beyond. Across the land stretch animal runs, hunting trails,  footpaths, dusty roads, and caravan routes.

 

In this land, God approaches Abram. Today’s passage begins with this expression of God’s nature. God is present and relational. Just like God came to walk in the garden, to commune with nature, and to talk with humankind, God comes to the land to talk with Abram. We hear God speak of a potentially extravagant promise. We learn that God’s nature dreams really big. In conversation with Abram, God’s nature offers human nature an alternative to current reality. God’s nature offers a perspective beyond what is seen and experienced.

At first hearing, the passage, sounds hope-filled and encouraging. God is going to do the work, leading Abram and Sarai to a land that I will show you. Attached is a promise of enormous blessing that includes becoming a great nation with a great name. And to sweeten the invitation God declares that you will be a blessing. And what’s more is that all the families of the earth shall be blessed

God’s dream is inclusive in scope, abundant in blessing, filled with promise, excitingly adventurous.

 

But it doesn’t take long for my true nature to say, “Wait a minute.” Surely this invitation is too good to be true! Everything inside me screams, “This is risky!” The story presents to Abram and Sarai too many unknowns and much too much uncertainty. When I go on vacation I take a map, electronic and paper. Hotels are booked long before I start the journey. Each day I have an idea of the stops along the way. There is a plan from me leaving my home to the final destination. Before I decide to travel somewhere, I also take the time to evaluate my ability, do a risk assessment, and decide if my budget can handle the trek.

The story of Abram and Sarai surprises me. It surprises me because by nature I am more cautious and controlled when it comes to travelling and leaving home. As for reasons not to accept God’s invitation, human nature might have turned to excuses and focusing on inadequacies: from Abram, we are too old; from Sarai, we are barren; together, we are lacking. The surprise of the story is that human nature accepts God’s call to live beyond human ability and certainty.

Abram says, “Yes” – to go from his country and kindred, without a map, without a plan, without a destination, without a timeline, without answers to the million ‘who, what, when, why, where, how” questions that immediately flood my brain.

 

My colleague the Rev. Rick Pyrce wrote a poem about this story and the story of Nicodemus from the Gospel of John. The poem notes the ambiguity in the stories and considers the necessity of ambiguity to create curiosity and an openness to receive a ‘new-to-us’ perspective. Abram grows into the promise by entering the uncertainty, the ambiguity of the journey.  This kind of blew my mind. God is at home in ambiguity.

Human nature not so much. Not many of us will boldly shout to the world, “I love uncertainty!”

There is a reason humans create systems, institutions, spreadsheets, blueprints, and of order. Humans make reservations at restaurants and hotels, prepurchase tickets, keep calendars, follow routines, schedule events – because human nature tends to gravitate towards certainty. Humans hold on to certainty at all costs, even when the system or the-way-we-have-always-done-it is no longer working.

Ambiguity means uncertainty.

Ambiguity, is also defined by Merriam-Webster as the quality or state of allowing for more than one interpretation;

a word or expression that can be understood in two or more possible ways. In a world with ever increasing polarity and taking stands for or against, living life as if others are opponents, ambiguity is unwelcome.

 

On this second Sunday of Lent our human nature is invited to explore ambiguity by walking with Abram and Sarai as they follow God’s dream and promise into the unknown. Theologian Walter Brueggaman points out that their pursuit of God’s promise is a multi-generational journey – a willingness to walk beyond human nature of wanting to possess and achieve in ones’ lifetime. Abram and Sarai are fully aware that they are in God’s time, where they live fully in the present – in the very creation of each moment, accepting it as it is, behaving or responding accordingly.

Earlier in the year we read difficult to digest passages from the Gospel of Matthew. There was much ambiguity. Do you remember the discussion about righteousness? The ambiguity of a definition and ambiguity of the interpretation of the Law; no real answers to the question of who was in and who was out; who was right and who was wrong. There was more than one interpretation. We heard the Beatitudes, the blessed are they/the blessed are yous, that were quite ambiguous in nature and left much space for interpretation by the listener. When coming to the land to walk with the disciples why did Jesus speak with so much ambiguity?

 

Abram and Sarai went, I suspect following already made paths and roadways, established caravan routes – choosing in the moment what felt safe, looked promising; traveling with others by invitation or accident, changing direction due to weather, or need of provisions. They were on a journey -- an ambiguous exciting journey.

A theme of Lent is journey – faith journey, journey to the cross. Standing with Abram and Sarai on the land, daring to entertain walking into ambiguity with them along a caravan route… all of a sudden Matthew’s Gospel became less ambiguous to me because I realize that God is comfortable with ambiguity. There is no one answer, no clear definitions, no easy explanation to parables or teachings because it depends where the sojourner is: Where you are. Where a community is. Where we are as a church.  All are on a journey of faith with various degrees of relationship with God, creation, and others – so obviously the answer and interpretation of the Law, of scripture, is not the same for every listener, or every community – holy moly! talk about ambiguity!!!!! Faith and the path, what it is to follow Jesus is ambiguous because God has given humans free will to make choices, so we travel different routes on various maps, in uncharted territories, in foreign lands, in beautiful gardens. God didn’t give specifics because God didn’t/doesn’t know where freewill will lead us, or where the preaching of the gospel will take us, or where compassion stops us, where repentance turns us around, or grace re-directs us.

And God’s nature is okay with us.

 

An invitation is extended to us this morning to ‘go to a land that I will show you.’ It means intentionally stepping into ambiguity onto paths as yet untrod: the path follows The Way, it is a journey to the cross, it is a way of suffering and compassion, it is daring to say ‘yes’ and risking everything to the ambiguity of God’s big dream.

The journey requires a tremendous amount of grace and understanding, patience and acceptance. It will take practice and allowing our human nature to live beyond our ability, beyond our control, beyond our truth, beyond our interpretation. Once in a new environment, a new place where our patterns and ways of being no longer work and we are, in a sense, ‘lost’, it is then that we are born again  - birthed into a new perspective. One that is embraced in God’s nature.

This is the journey of Lent.

Grounded in a Garden

 All our sermons through Lent begin with this quote from sculptor and environmentalist Anthony Goldsworthy. We often forget that we are nature. Nature is not something separate from us. So when we say that we have lost our connection to nature, we have lost our connection to ourselves.

 

I recall two books that I had on my bookshelf growing up. One was a little book called, A Children’s Garden of Verses. It had only a few verses from Robert Louis Stevenson’s book of the same name. The little book was like a garden of pretty flowers; the flowers were rhymes, poems, and prayers, all suitable for grounding young children. The second book was Beatrice Potter’s, The Tale of Peter Rabbit. Peter Rabbit was always in the expertly tended and meticulous garden of Mr. MacGregor, where he -Peter Rabbit- would rummage through and help himself to whatever he wanted to eat, leaving behind holes and pieces of plants. Mr. MacGregor and Peter Rabbit had very different understandings of garden. Each understanding came from their nature. Human nature is quite different from rabbit nature.

 

On Ash Wednesday we began the season of Lent, reflecting on nature – nature as in creation, human nature, and God’s nature. We thought about Ash Wednesday as turning over a sod – turning over hearts and wills to open ourselves to becoming rich soil, grounded, and eventually blooming in the glory of Easter. In a recent exploration of the Genesis text, Professor Valerie Bridgeman from Methodist Theological School in Ohio focused on ‘nature.’ She wrote, As a Lenten text, it does seem that we are being asked to ‘reflect on the nature and limitations of humanity, including the consequences of our actions and inactions and our responsibility in and for this world.’ –Working Preacher.com

Let us consider an interpretation of the Genesis story that follows a garden path less travelled. Human beings are placed in a garden. The vegetation is abundant. There are creatures of every kind. The soil is naturally perfect for hosting and supporting the life in its care; some have called the Garden of Eden, paradise.

But, if we think of human nature --- from a human perspective is the garden paradise?

Today’s story begins with Adam being placed in the garden and commanded to till it and keep it. That is a lot of responsibility; to arrive in a new surrounding, as a new creature, and figure it out.

We are told that Serpent starts a conversation. Serpent is said to have tempted humanity, causing humanity to sin. Serpent through the centuries has received a bad rap, and has been painted as the Devil, evil – non-of-which comes from the story itself. This passage has theologically been termed ‘the Fall’ and the moment of ‘Original Sin.’

Taking a fresh look at the garden passage, could it be that the story is about nature, human nature, and God’s nature? God’s nature created humankind as a creature with freedom of heart and will, with the ability to choose their relationships, with nature, other humans, and God. This story is a conversation of living within this freedom, and it means discerning boundaries. Being in relationship requires boundaries: who to listen to or not listen to; what to eat, not eat; what or how to take or not take; what to till and tend and what to leave alone. To cope with freedom human nature developed an internal process to help discern who to be, how to be, and what to be. The process is an on-going internal conversation -some might call this the conscience. Internal conversation is a consideration of all the choices human’s have to make and all the boundary decisions to be made. In this story, is Serpent the internal conversation partner of human nature? Neither good nor evil – just a conversation partner, to reflect on the options. God said don’t eat the fruit.  But why not, go ahead and eat the fruit. Where the conversation goes between Serpent and human determines how a particular human will act in the same situation. Genesis continues the story we heard this morning, with the story of God walking in the garden. God’s nature of being present and relational to have conversation with God’s creatures. God’s voice in addition to an inner Serpent fertilizes an idea of a relational garden that is abundant and flourishing the world over.

 

One of my all-time favourite paintings is the Tangled Garden -by J.E.MacDonald, an artist of the Group of Seven. The Tangled Garden - in the background there is a small portion of a wood-sided house overlaid with a gnarly apple tree. In the middle is a patch of abundant brightly flowering plants. The foreground has large sunflowers whose season is done; their heads are bent, leaves are turning brown. The garden is full and overgrown. It appears that as the seasons turned it has been left to its own nature. Boundaries - human-made edges and planting groups- have disappeared. Everything is tangled together – blossom and decay, life and death, buds and harvest, plants and weeds. I find the Tangled Garden and its nature beautiful. My nature sits well with this nature. In it I see God’s nature.

 

Mr. MacGregor would not like the Tangled Garden. Mr. MacGregor gardened by bringing his sense of order to the plot of ground. He dug the soil. He tended his plants. Protected the garden with a boundary fence and gate. Traps were set to rid the garden of rodents and pests. Gardening as a verb was hard and time-consuming work. Every plant had its place in the eyes of Mr. MacGregor and weeds were immediately hoed and removed. Order. Productivity. A garden was to be tamed, commanded, and controlled.

 

Peter Rabbit, on the other hand, experienced garden as a bountiful space, full of food and fun. He enjoyed the garden. Gardens were places of adventure and play. Yes, gardens were beautiful but also dangerous, due to Mr. MacGregor’s human nature, but being in the garden was worth the risk! Peter Rabbit got into quite a lot of trouble. He lost his coat which Mr. MacGregor turned into a scarecrow, and almost his life, ending up in Mr. MacGregor’s stew. Peter Rabbit no matter how much his mom and cousins told him to avoid the garden, he did not show any restraint.

 

God tells human beings that they may eat of every tree but of the tree of knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die. This is a conversation about boundaries and consequences. Just because something is good for food does not mean we should eat. Just because a flower is beautiful does not mean we should take it out of the garden to place it inside and ‘own’ it. Just because a tree is good for wood, does not mean we need to cut it down. I am currently reading a book with writings about birds from the 1800s where because there were so many birds, humans decided to kill thousands at a time for sport – simply because they could.

 

Today we visit a garden. The garden is the original grounding spot for humanity. It is the place where human nature began to discern what it means to be human and in relationship with nature, other humans, themself, and God. We learn that gardening is not as easy as saying till and tend. There is a lot of discernment required and that discernment comes through internal conversation. Human nature doesn’t always choose wisely. We learn that God’s nature is to come to the garden and be present; to walk among creation and grow relationship with humankind, if humankind chooses to come out from hiding and walk through the garden too. Enjoying the garden, with respect, entering into relationship with it, not rummaging or ruining but caring and keeping.

 

The garden image challenges us this morning. How do we garden? How are we grounded in the garden? Lent gives us time to consider nature, human nature in the eyes of Mr. MacGregor or J.E.MacDonald, experienced via Peter Rabbit’s nature. This week consider experiencing garden in an alternative way to your usual nature. Discern boundaries. Think on consequences. Grow relationships.

Grounded with Ash. The Petrichor of Ash Wed.

 

2026 Lent sermons will all begin with this quote from sculptor and environmentalist Anthony Goldsworthy.

We often forget that we are nature. Nature is not something separate from us. So when we say that we have lost our connection to nature, we have lost our connection to ourselves.

 

Ash Wednesday liturgy draws attention to our nature and God’s nature via nature.

An invitation is offered this evening to receive ashes in the form of a cross on your forehead. The ashes are burnt palm fronds from a past Palm Sunday. The palms and the ash are nature, as in creation.

We are marked with a cross as we hear, “You are dust and to dust you shall return.” In this marking we are confronted with God’s nature - a God who out of great love dies on a cross so that humans might grasp the unending lengths that God will go to love, and to continue in pursuit of relationship with humanity.

We come face to face with our human nature – in the bodily reality of death and decay, dust to dust. We too confess that human nature holds a sinful rebellion, an inability to fully and unconditionally love, that separates us from God, our neighbours, and creation.

 

Ash Wednesday liturgy is like a turning over of sods. It is like a farmer plowing untilled land to make a field to farm on. In the turning over of the sod, roots, rocks, worms, insects, and soil are exposed. There is ground – earth- ready for intentional tending and working: the rocks are removed; roots are loosened and withered; sunshine and rain naturally soak in; and there is hoeing and weeding and the adding of mulch. Before seeding the ground will be plowed again. The field will be prepared with furrows ready to receive seeds.

Lent works the sods – the ground- that we turn over on Ash Wednesday.

 

Lent is about Grounding. Through the hearing of scripture, singing minor-toned hymns, reflection, disciplines, and practices we tend and work the ground within. We pick out rocks – the items no longer serving us; we loosen that which binds our spirits, soak in that which gives us hope and the capacity for compassion; we hoe and weed our opinions, understandings, and morals. Lent -especially in Northern climates- is the time we start to long for spring, for soil, for blooming Easter.  To get to blooming – first the sod is turned and the ground is tended and worked with care – this journey reconnects us to nature: our nature, human nature, God’s nature.

 

Sunday texts in Lent will journey across and through various soils. We visit a garden, walk a caravan route, find ourselves in the wilderness, stand in a grassy field, and end in a dry river valley. Each soil story contains wisdom to help us ground ourselves, reconnecting to nature – creation, our nature, human nature, God’s nature. You are invited to work with ancient farming techniques (all found on the table at the back of the sanctuary): finger labyrinths, an everyday prayer, and devotional booklets. Come Holy Week we seed the soil with sandpaper, nails, and colour swatches.

 

It is hard to be grounded in today’s world. There is so much that disturbs and poisons the soil: climate crisis, wars and rumours of war, economic tariffs/trade disputes, instability in pubic and government systems and institutions, the rise of AI, inundation of electromagnetic waves … you know what untethers you, what untethers human nature. We are like dust in the wind.

 

To be Grounded.

There is a recurring experience for me – where every time it happens – I am 100% completely grounded. The event connects me to nature, Mother Earth. The moment calms everything in my own nature – my whole system resets and rejuvenates. The experience breathes God’s breath and that which seemed lost is resurrected.

This grounding moment happens when gentle rain falls on dry soil, causing geosmin – the compound created by dying bacteria, mixing with plant oil – to spring into the air. That earthy smell when the rain first hits the ground is called petrichor.

Petrichor is an instantaneous grounding moment for me.

 

And it is not just me. The human nose is sensitive to geosmin. Scientists speculate that the earthy odour and taste is a nod to the past, when the scent of rain was important for survival. It is in our nature to respond to petrichor. And it is not our nature alone, the nature of camels in the desert is to rely on the smell of petrichor to find oasis --- life-giving water.

 

Refreshed earth. Released tension. Rehydrated. Nourished. Grounded.

The rituals of Ash Wednesday and Holy Week act in a similar way. They reach that which has been buried, grown over, malnourished, or is blowing in the wind, and instantaneously ground the moment.

 

Grounded with ash is the petrichor moment of this evening.

It is a moment of grace-filled energy that springs up around us as we accept our human nature – that we are dust – that we are poor farmers who require help. In admitting we are ungrounded, in turning over the sod within us, God’s nature rains and warms the soil. Reconnecting, refreshing, and in days to come resurrecting in us that which is dry, disturbed, and disconnected.

 

Tonight, we turn over the sod.

That is all that is being asked.

We expose our human nature. Trusting the response of God’s nature.

 

 

Salt and Light

 

The metaphors of salt and light in the Bible call Christians to actively influence the world positively. As salt, they are to preserve goodness and enhance the quality of life around them. As light, they are to provide guidance and be visible examples of righteousness. This is from biblestudytools.com

 

The scripture text presents us with two short and to the point transition statements.

Both are easily remembered and easily repeated. You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world.

The statements are boldly made without interpretation or explanation.

These two statements are the connective tissue between the Beatitudes, Blessed are, and Jesus’ teachings on the Law, You have heard it said.

 

These two statements continue from the last Beatitude, “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you.” The YOU is plural. It is not about a single person but rather a corporate you. This kindom work, that Jesus’ is and will be teaching about, cannot be done alone; it is relational work therefore it must be done together. In like manner, YOU are the salt of the earth, you are the light of the world, the YOU is plural. You as the body of Christ. One grain of salt or one charged electron goes untasted, unseen. It takes many grains and many electrons to be tasted salt and visible light. Within the language the two statements are not just of the earth, of the world, but, FOR the earth, FOR the world, not for yourselves – light is put on a hill so that it is visible. Matthew’s Gospel is preparing listens for the grande finale of the Great commission at end of the Gospel – go make disciples of all nations, baptizing them, teaching them.

 

Praise the Lord for two clear statements!  -object lessons in a sense –

(sigh) only to be followed by a complicated section that begins, Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law…

Some scholars deem this section the most difficult in the whole Gospel. It is peculiar to Matthew’s Gospel. It is full of ambiguous terms with tension between clauses and other passages. Editor’s hands have been at work to make sense of what Matthew was trying to articulate. There are no satisfying explanations.

What the ambiguity does do, however, is spark our curiosity to try and figure it out. One item we find is an important note about the context of 1^st century Judaism.  Jews of Jesus’ time highly regarded scripture; scripture was holy-inspired with God as the ultimate author. Rabbis and teachers, whether Pharisee, Sadducee, Essene, or other group revered and used Hebrew scripture. They were united in this. Where they did not agree was in the interpretation and application of the scripture. We see this lived out in confrontations between Jesus and other scripture reading groups, most often the Pharisees. We see interpretation at work in Matthew’s Gospel as he freely altered some of the quotes he used from scripture.

 

The rest of Matthew chapter 5, that following what we have read this morning, is Jesus’ interpretation and teaching of the Law. Jesus is teacher and the disciples are the class. At times there are others who listen in, auditing the class so to speak. I kind of picture chapter 5 like teaching confirmation class. After church this morning, the confirmation class meets. The class will focus on learning about the Commandments as printed in Luther’s Small Catechism, so including Luther’s interpretations and applications for each Commandment. Part of the class we will concentrate on applying the 5^th Commandment, you shall not kill. Using a spectrum each student is invited to decide where they stand on various applications of the law. Is it okay to kill a mosquito? Is polluting the environment breaking the commandment? Does it break the commandment to euthanize a sick dog? To shoot animals for sport? In times of war, can you kill another human being? What about abortion, MAID? As the exercise continues, each described situation becomes more difficult to discern how to interpret and apply the law.

 

There is nothing easy about Jesus’ discourse on the Law.

But before we get there, we are gifted with two clear bold statements. Statements that can be repeated when we get confounded and confused, when conversations get convoluted or commandeered. Matthew gifts us with two statements that centre our minds and call our hearts back to the core. You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world.

 

(Hold up a saltshaker and a light bulb)

 

Salt and light – an object lesson.

 

Of all the objects Jesus’ could have used, he chose salt and light.

How many of you have salt at home? How many of you have lightbulbs or candles at home? At the church we have shakers full of salt and we have lots of light sources.

There are few places where humans are that you won’t find both salt and light. Both are in your home, in the home of your neighbour, in the home of your enemy, in refugee camps, in shelters, in camp sites, in war trenches, in bunkers, in prison, in hospitals, in asylums, in zoos, in conservatories, on airplanes, on space expeditions, on death row. There is a universality of salt and light. Both affect the human condition.

 

One thing I learn from the abundance of salt and light, is that salt and light are already present. When we go into the world - salt and light are already there before we get there. God is already there, as is kindom in various stages of wholeness. When we go, we enhance the quality of both salt and light already present.

 

I think Jesus chose that which is simple and common because the very presence of salt and light acts as a mnemonic device, continually centring our minds and calling our hearts to the two statements. You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world. The statements are in our face, as the continual reminder that we are a community – a plural YOU- who lives in relationship and together applies the law and how it is that we approach and live every moment of life.

 

This week every time you turn on a light switch, light a candle, obey a traffic light, use the flashlight on your phone… Be reminded that You are the light of the world. Every time you put salt on your food, eat a salty potato chip, use Epsom salts for sore muscles, or put salt down after shovelling… Be reminded that, You are the salt of the earth. Centred and called YOU are a connected to a community. You are a community, flavouring and illuminating the world – many grains, many electrons together enhancing the wholeness of God’s kindom.

 

The metaphors of salt and light in the Bible call Christians to actively influence the world positively. As salt, they are to preserve goodness and enhance the quality of life around them. As light, they are to provide guidance and be visible examples of righteousness.

Quilted Together by God's Love

 

KID’S CORNER

-tell me about a favourite blanket or quilt; talk about quilts that are present

- many cultures – giving a blanket symbol of hospitality, honour, respect, protection; warmth and friendship;

- Black history month – patterns as sign-posts for underground railroad.  Who would you like to give a blanket to?

 

Last week we heard Matthew’s introduction to Jesus’ ministry.

And also the introduction to prepare those accompanying Jesus to hear the Sermon on the Mount; Jesus’ inaugural teaching.

 

Matthew clearly tells readers:

1.       That Jesus’ ministry will fulfill scripture – the Messiah will bring light to those in darkness.

2.       Calling the 4 fishermen before the teaching highlights that the teaching is specifically for the disciples, although others are present to hear it to.

3.       the Messiah’s ministry of healing is not as important as Jesus’ teaching and preaching.

 

It is only in the Gospel of Matthew that the Sermon on the Mount – the Beatitudes- as they are sometimes referred to, are the main teaching to which all following teachings and actions in the Gospel are connected. This teaching is Matthew’s thesis, pointedly stated at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. As Douglas Hare states in the Interpretation series commentary, “It presents Jesus as Israel’s ultimate, God-authorized teacher and sternly warns the readers that believing in Jesus means doing what Jesus says.” (pg33) The teaching is bookended with the Great Commission, to go “make disciples of all nations… teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.”

 

Teaching -   February is Black History Month.

This week I read about African American quilting. Sewn into African American quilts – in vivid colours, asymmetrical designs, large patterns – were stories, some biblical, others lived truth, and messages to be passed from one generation to the next. The quilts visually and texturally taught the complexity of life, pain, oppression, freedom, and power, while uniquely displaying culture and identity. Quilts were symbols of hope and agency. Black women made quilts – finding a creative way to share legacy, wisdom, and teachings - in a time when it was illegal for them to read and write.

 

For those reading on the blog or joining us by Facebook from other parts of the world, I was reading about quilts because it has been double-digit-minus-cold here. Much snow clearing, led to mugs of warm liquid while wrapped in a favourite blanket or quilt. Then I started work on today’s reflection. The Annual Meeting that is after worship today was also on my mind.

 

The Sermon on the Mount is like a quilt. There is a lot of teaching that sews the story and message together. Some threads are eschatological and tell of the kindom to come. Others are threads of obedience and required behaviour to participate in the kindom, now. There is a sewing together of prophetic word, teachings on accompanying Jesus, explanation of living the Commandments, words on being righteousness in a faithless world, and shining a light for the nations. There are large vibrant patterns overlapping, both abundant grace and implicit commands.

 

Each beatitude is a square in the quilt. There is a square for: the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, those persecuted for righteousness’ sake, and persecuted prophets. That makes nine blocks – nine motifs – each pattern unique.

Consider that the quilt is both ancient and new, continually being added to, refreshed, and patched.

In 2025 our words and deeds, what was done, what was left undone, altered the quilt. The ministry we did and did not do, sometimes wore out the stitching or tore the fabric, and at other times ministry strengthened the stitching or added colourful fabric patches. As we consider the annual report – when you read through the word and work of the congregation – what areas of the quilt did we contribute to; how did we sew the kindom into the patchwork of God’s creation?  How did we participate in God’s now and forever kindom?

When were we poor in spirit, or attended to the poor in spirit?

When did we mourn, who did we mourn with, how did we mourn?

Were we meek and/or attentive to the meek?

Did we hunger and thirst after righteousness? Was food provided to address this need?

Were words and actions and relationships merciful – both in the giving and receiving?

How does the ministry of 2025 shape the pattern of being pure of heart, or add vivid expression of being peacemakers?

Was the quilt designed to encompass and protect the persecuted? To give hope and to be a beacon amid storm?

 

The annual meeting, African American quilts, scriptures are all pieces of God’s kindom quilt. All tell stories that are full of wisdom, teaching, and experience. We are blessed to have the freedom and time to look at the work that has been done; to sit together to lament the tears we made and admire the patches we added; to cry at the stitches that went sideways, the blood stains from poked fingers, and to laugh at the stories of spilled coffee.

 

At the end of the year, regardless of any failures, forgotten relationships, lack of energy, the incompletion of tasks, we ended the year with a vividly coloured and patterned quilt that shows a faithfulness to willingly participate in God’s kindom: accompanying Jesus into the neighbourhood or wherever else Jesus leads; opening our eyes and our ears and our hearts to Jesus’ teachings; and going to the nations, teaching, preaching, and sharing the Gospel. We have a quilt that is sturdy, part of a much larger quilt, and a quilt with which we can and do comfort and embrace the world and its people with grace and with Gospel story – wisdom for the ages.

Amen.

 

Opening Prayer – ACM

Quilted together by your love O God,

we give thanks and rejoice for the unique patterns and vibrant ministry of 2025,

for your threads of love and grace that were sewn through us;

we are sorry and ask forgiveness for holes in our ministry and places where we tore the fabric of your kindom;

we turn to you master quilter and ask that you connect our stitches, unifying us as we reflect on ministry and focusing us on required tasks to support ministry in 2026.

We wrap ourselves with your threads of love, and grace, and mercy, as we meet in your name. Amen.

 

Closing Prayer - ACM

Commitment prayer #1 on ELWB pg 86.

Go in peace, quilting the kindom of God by living out God’s grace and unconditional love. Thanks be to God.

Facing the Noise: Faith that Leads to Hope

 

There was John and then there was Jesus.

In our chronological telling of story this is how we have heard the gospel.

 

I am a great reader of novels. Every so often I come across one where the author begins the story following one character. In the next chapter the author moves to another character to follow through the same time or perhaps jumps to a completely different era. In the next chapter the author moves to yet another place and readers enter someone else’s life. Eventually the story returns to the original character, and by the end of the book connects the dots between all the persons met through the story. Some don’t like reading novels that jump around time from person to person or place to place. Many prefer a chronological timeline.

 

There was John and then there was Jesus.

 

What we hear in this morning’s gospel is that there was John AND there was Jesus.

Both were called and working as God’s servant, simultaneously. John the Baptist did not stop baptizing when Jesus left the waters of the Jordan. John kept baptizing. There were people waiting in line. There were curious people still going to the desert to investigate the call to repentance. In today’s Gospel we hear of John standing with some of his disciples. We hear that John testifies to what he saw of Jesus in the Jordan River. John is continuing the work that he was called to do.

 

I learn an important lesson from today’s passage. Both John and Jesus know who they are and what they are about. Both are God’s servant – bearing God’s redeeming word, preaching the good news, and articulating a vision of kindom that is different from the empire in which people live. There seems to not be jealousy or enmity, but rather, a co-operative co-existence.

This is important. In John and Jesus’ time the world around them is rapidly changing. The people are oppressed by a foreign power, the poor become poorer, leaders are unpredictable and default to violence, and movements of religious, philosophical, and political nature are stirring up the people.

Facing the noise around them, John and Jesus recognize a shared message that is mutually beneficial and so respect each other’s call. Both, in their own style, stand up to Empire and actively work towards kindom by walking an alternative path. Both encourage turning towards God and a foundation of faith that leads to hope.

 

Amid the noise of the past week, in a letter to Lutheran congregations in Minnesota, the six ELCA Bishops of Minnesota, shared John’s message, Jesus’ message, words of encouragement, faith and hope:

Through the waters of baptism, we have been named and claimed as beloved children of God.

It is our sure confidence in this that sustains us. We know we are God’s children, and we know that you are too. We pray that this truth will continue to anchor, guide and compel all of us as we work for justice for all people in every place.

We also know there are voices around us that challenge the truth of who we are and who our neighbours are. It is our fervent hope that every one of us would remain deeply rooted in our identity as God’s beloved.

To that end, we write with a word of encouragement: go to church or your place of worship, ground yourselves with those who will echo the voice of God for you. This is the nourishment that will sustain us.

 

There was John and there was Jesus and there was in following centuries many chosen, many beloved children of God who carried on, and carry on, proclaiming God’s redeeming word and actively working to bring God’s kindom; living lives that articulate an alternative to the oppressive power of empire.

Today marks the beginning of the 2026 Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. The resources for praying together were written by the Armenian Orthodox Church.

This church is the oldest Christian church in the world. It is deeply routed in the 1^st Century teachings of the Apostles Thaddeus and Bartholemew; yes, two disciples of Jesus.  The Armenians were the 1^st nation to declare Christianity as its official religion in 301 CE, well before the Roman Empire did. St. Gregory, called “the Illuminator,” brought the Light of Christ to the Armenian people.

 

It is timely that the Armenian Orthodox Church shares God’s redeeming word and their testimony of Christ with a world in the clutches of empire. From the early days of turning towards God and a foundation of faith that leads to hope, the Armenian people have kept faith through difficult times. The people kept faith through the foreign rule of Arabs, Monguls, Persians, and Ottomans. Despite persecution the church remained faithful and also guarded language, literature, and the arts. Monasteries preserved manuscripts and were intentional centres of education. During the Soviet regime the church maintained a quiet yet resilient presence. In recent years, in conflict in Nagomo-Karabakh and the displacement of the Artsakh population, the church continues to serve as a source of strength and solace, a beacon of faith, unity, and a continuity for Armenians worldwide.

 

Church has and is vital to the survival and resilience of the Armenian people and enacts a continuity and stability amid persecution and forced migrations. Living an alternative to empire, the church is a sanctuary for the suffering, offering solace and preserving hope for a brighter future.

 

Whether John and Jesus oppressed by the Roman Empire, the Armenian Church oppressed by an array of foreign powers, Minnesota Lutherans threatened by presidential actions – there is no option but to face the noise of empire. The lesson from John and Jesus is to recognize that there is more than one voice addressing the noise. The voices share a message but have their own style of delivery. Neither is better than the other, just different. What matters is that a community is authentic in their standing up to Empire through their active work bringing God’s kindom by walking an alternative path. Called voices are present, as are we, voices that encourage turning towards God and a foundation of faith that leads to hope.

 

The Armenian Orthodox church writes to the Christians worldwide:

Spiritual maturity involves embracing our difference while pursuing unity with the same vigour as for doctrinal accuracy. Our strength lies in our ability to reflect Christ through our unity, demonstrating His love and grace to the world. By living out this divine call, we fulfil our mission and honour Christ, advancing Hi s Kingdom on earth.

Let us embrace this divine calling to unity, not as an abstract ideal but as a vital expression of our faith. In a world where the Body of Christ is wounded by divisions within and between tradition and confessions the Apostle’s call to unity is addressed to each of us, not only as separated church communities, but also as individuals within our communities. By living in unity, we not only witness to the love and power of our Lord Jesus Christ but also embody the essence of His teachings. As we support one another and celebrate our diverse gifts and talents, let us reflect the heart of Christ and further His work on earth. -pg 10 of Week of Prayer 2026 resources

 

 

Today we pray for godly servants, and called voices, who actively face the noise and articulate an alternative to empire. As a Christian community we promise not to undermine God’s work through voices not our own.

We will with joy, not jealousy, point to other’s ministries. We celebrate communities with foundations of faith that lead to hope. We hold up that which is good and carry on being who we are called to be through the waters of baptism.

It Becometh Us to Fulfil All Righteousness

 

In 1956 during the Christmas season Dag Hammarskjold wrote, “Faith is, faith creates, faith carries.”

Dag Hammarskjold was a Swedish economist and former Secretary-General of the United Nations. He was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. His career included creating the basis for United Nations peacekeeping operations, and successful implementation of his ‘preventive diplomacy’ in crises from the Middle East to China. He was courageous in speaking of his religious faith and his faith in humanity. Hammarskjold reflected on faith, “God does not die on the day when we cease to believe in a personal deity, but we die on the day when our lives cease to be illumined by the steady radiance, renewed daily, of a wonder, the source of which is beyond all reason.

 

The Gospel text from Matthew of Jesus’ baptism, and the news reel of the past week where vignettes of a world coming undone were front and centre, reminded me of Dag Hammarskjold and his work that was most certainly directed by his faith.

 

The Gospel of Matthew is unique in the four Gospel tellings of Jesus’ baptism. Matthew recalls a snippet of conversation between John and Jesus, not present in the other Gospels. It is a doozy of a statement. Jesus answers John the Baptist in Matthew 3: 15, saying, Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.

This line has puzzled scholars and hearers through the years. It is a line for which there is no clear meaning.

I personally appreciate the lack of consensus because it invites the hearer, you and me, to determine what it might mean in our time and place. Perhaps the ‘proper’ fulfilling of righteousness materializes and is applied by the faithful response to each circumstance that the followers of Jesus face through the ages.

I believe that Matthew is setting the stage for the gospel that will unfold through Jesus’ ministry. Matthew is inviting hearers and readers into an open posture of conversation with Jesus, just as John talked with Jesus. It was not a conversation of superficial niceties, but, rather, deep theological discernment. Jesus’ statement alerts the reader that this Gospel offers righteousness as the overarching theological focal point to be discussed and discerned. At every point through the Gospel, one is encouraged to use the lens of righteousness to discover the deeper meaning of Jesus’ words and actions. Note that Jesus’ ministry will upset religious authorities. On the surface it will appear as if Jesus disagrees with the traditional practice and the prevailing understanding of scripture. Jesus’ actions and teachings will illumine a way of living based on a change of perception and a deeper connection to what it truly means to live righteousness.

 

As translated in the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible, Jesus says to John, Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness. While the word ‘proper’ in this sentence is an accurate translation, listen to the word in the King James Version, Suffer it to be so now: for thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteousness.

It is proper for us. It becometh us.

This engages my imagination to consider more deeply the idea of righteousness or more importantly the heart of righteousness. The word ‘becometh’ suggests action and an action that requires a change of heart. One is becoming righteousness.

Matthew’s thorough discussion of righteousness, according to author William Arndt, takes a number of routes, delving into righteousness as having a quality of judicial responsibility with a focus on fairness; of judicial correctness with a focus on redemption; and of upright behaviour with a focus on morality.

 

Matthew writes and places his Gospel in 1^st Century Judea. His focus on the theological discussion of righteousness is not new. At hand are the Hebrew scriptures, the Pseudepigrapha, and the Dead Sea Scrolls, all presenting dissertations on righteousness and being righteous. Matthew, and the people presented in his Gospel, are predominately people of the covenant, those who follow The Torah.  You will recall that the Law in simple form is the Ten Commandments and that the Commandments are in two parts, the Laws of relationship with God, and the Laws of relationship with fellow humans. In 1^st Century Judea the practice of the Law, is heavy-handed and overly judicious, as in the letter of Law. The Law also included additions that go beyond the original law. Righteousness is judged based on the keeping of the Law where uprightness is determined by specific legal ordinances. What is complicated is that the keeping the Law to the letter, is no longer about relationship with God or more specifically other human beings, but about the perception of ‘what is right.’ Doing ‘what is right’ has become so particular that it forgots that the intent of the rules was mercy and compassion - love of neighbour to benefit the whole.

 

Matthew’s gospel is hard work for readers, for us, because the Gospel is counter-cultural and challenges followers to live the heart of the law, which at times may be in conflict with the letter of the law. In this Gospel we learn that because of who Christ is, lived righteousness is an act of becoming. This means that righteousness is not a set of judicial must and must-nots, but, rather, a fuller incarnation of righteousness lived out in mercy and compassion in the moment. This is the Kindom of God come-near. God’s kindom ‘becometh’ present through the faithful becoming righteousness, and this righteousness is not for self-redemption, it is a righteousness and redemption that seeps into a world that is seemingly coming undone.

 

This brings me back to Dag Hammarskjold and the news reel of the past week. How is one faithful to the Gospel? How does one becometh righteousness? How does a community discern ‘right’ action? How does righteousness become living-righteousness that is a redemption that seeps into a world?

Hammarskjold reminds us that we come here – to church and community – to be illumined by the steady radiance, renewed daily, of a wonder, the source of which is beyond all reason. We come to continue conversation with Jesus, with each other, to discern how to be as we face unsettling circumstances.

It becometh us to strengthen our relationships through the love of God by reciprocal actions towards ‘other,’ where mercy and compassion trump rules and regulations. Drawing on the source which is beyond all reason, we strengthen our relationships and bring redemption to seep into the world in the way open to us in the moment – prayer.

This week we were contacted by the Confessional Lutheran Church in Namibia who is organized in a few refugee camps. They wrote a note describing their difficulties and the circumstances facing their people, all people, in refugee camps. I sent a note back with a blessing and an assurance that they were and would be in our prayers. The response was a warm thank you – thank you that they are remembered, offered to God, and not forgotten. This was a moment of living righteousness that grew a relationship that I, and I am sure we, had never thought about – at least not with this group specifically.  We becometh ...

And so too we name, remember, and stand with and pray for our American colleagues and congregations in Evangelical Lutheran Church of America, for whom righteousness means in some places opposing presidential orders and ignoring laws. Likewise, we remember, stand with, and pray for those sitting here today whose hearts are with their families and their people in Iran, Columbia, Ethiopia, Eritrea, Ukraine, and Russia. Our prayers and hearts, remember, and stand with the Folkekirken (the people’s church) which is the Lutheran Church in Denmark – Greenland.

 

At this time, thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteousness, by means of prayer and a continued discernment of how living righteousness is to be lived out in the circumstances we face. This is a time when, Faith is, faith creates, faith carries. Matthew’s Gospel is timely in the focus on righteousness and how to be in a world that seems lacking in mercy and compassion. Matthew’s Gospel does not leave the reader without hope – today step one on the way to the cross is baptism, a baptism that signifies belonging and God’s spirit at work through Jesus and down through the ages among us. We are not left alone. The Word is incarnate and redemption seeps into the world. As to what is required of us, Hammarskjold wrote: Life only demands from you the strength that you possess. Only one feat is possible; not to run away. Let us not run away. Let us not be afraid. This too is how the Gospel of Matthew ends.  Jesus says, “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Mt. 28:20).

Recipes of Home #9 - SURPRISE

 

SURPRISE

 

Surprise! An unexpected gift arrived in my inbox.  This gift reminds me of home – the home created by a church family, people who gather together because they want to, because they consider each other to be family. The unexpected gift will surprise those who have been at Resurrection for along time. We hear the voices of a foremother and forefather: Isabel and Peter Petersen.

 

Trudy Inglis (nee Petersen) shares her mum Isabel’s “famous chocolate peanut butter brownie marble square recipe. She made it for every single solitary meal at the church… at least every potluck I was at.” Like her mum, Trudy writes, “I made them a bit earlier this season for my church, St. John’s in Mahone Bay, where people like them as much now as they did when mum made them.”

 

The pic of the recipe is from a cookbook Isabel and Peter’s daughter Kathi made for the family of all the favourite recipes. Kathi wrote in the preface, “Our family does not get together to play board games or cards on Tuesday nights; we invariably come together over a laden table, to share food, laughter and conversation. A rich tradition of passed-down dishes are faithfully prepared, and new traditions are begun with an ever-increasing repertoire of new recipes.

 

Gathered around the table in conversation we can be surprised by the wealth of story, wisdom, jokes, sayings, deep thoughts, debate, and so on that are shared. Every home that is a home has a table where food is shared, not just physical food, but spiritual and emotional food.

Consider the tables that are home for you. How does the ‘food’ feed you? Who can you invite to your table and what will you serve?

 

 

Peanut Butter Fudge Squares

 

½ cup  crunchy peanut butter (can use smooth)

4 Tbsp margarine

½ cup  white sugar

2eggs

6 Tbsp flour

1 15-oz. brownie mix

1 egg

2 Tbsp soft margarine

 

1.       Mix peanut butter, margarine, sugar, eggs and flour.

2.       Prepare brownie mix as package directs.

3.       Spread chocolate batter in 9x9 greased pan. Dab peanut butter batter on top, and then marbleize with a knife. Bake at 350F for 30 mins.

 

As Kathi wrote, “No family feast would be complete without a head-of-the-household asking the blessings, and Dad (Peter Petersen) has contributed this prayer… may the feast begin!” A fitting way to end our ‘Recipes of Home.’ Thank you for everyone’s contributions and taking the time to reflect on the theme of home.

 

Heavenly Father,

We humbly bow to give thanks for all the blessings you shower upon us and ask that your blessing be added to all the ingredients and instructions suggested in these pages so that the result will be healthy food for our bodies and the peace of God for our whole being. May your love be reflected in the love from so many sources that joined together in this collection. All this we ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.