Blue Christmas

Christmas “blue” – funeral home service   Dec. 2014

This time of year is a season of too much: there is too much darkness, a landscape that is too bare, too much traffic, too much consumerism, too much chaos, too much food – drink –and merry making, too many things to do, too much pressure, and too much fake happiness and joy.

Despite all this, within my Lutheran tradition, the next four weeks are my favourite season within the church year. In the church this is the season of Advent – a time where Christmas is held at bay, a time of reflection, a time that looks for hope, seeks peace, craves love, and covets joy.  The colour of the season is blue. You see the season is not about merry-making, it is about remembering who we are, where we have come from, and where our future might lead.  It is a time where we refrain from “too much.”  It is a time where we do not need to put on airs and feel the need to be fake happy – we can be sad, depressed, alone, grieving – seeking comfort.

During this season we read words from the prophet Isaiah, words that you may know from Handel’s Messiah:

Comfort, O Comfort my peoples says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her ...

A voice cries out: in the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low, the uneven ground level, and the rough places a plain. Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.

Words of hope spoken to a people in exile, thousands of years ago. Words of comfort repeated by Handel for his Messiah.  Words of comfort and hope read again and again, within Judeo-Christian circles.   The words of the prophet speak to a people who are grieving their homeland, a way of life, their traditions and religious practices – the words offer hope in the image of an easy passage through the desert. Who wouldn’t appreciate a little more ease in times of crisis, an ease to everyday life, an ease to the hurts and pains human beings experience?

This year I need the season of Advent, a season of blue, even more than usual.  At the end of August my dad died. Since I have been a pastor I have not spent Christmas with my parents who live three provinces away, yet I know that this Christmas will feel different. I am different. I understand a depth of sadness I have not experienced before. It’s a sadness that has settled in and become a permanent part of who I am. The words of the prophets, especially those of Isaiah, are overflowing with an abundance of hope ... I feel the words differently because there is a great sadness to comfort.  Because of my father’s passing I more fully grasp hope; and as I have grasped hope there is a greater sense of peace and contentment. Dare I say I am joyful because hope has blossomed and is blossoming in a new way.

  In his later years, my dad crafted intricate Christmas decorations on his scroll saw. Every family member, down through the grandchildren, have a collection of his works of art.  He was very specific about the decorations – particularly in their theme.  Each one is religious in nature, with the intent of spreading his understanding of Good News.  The decorations were to be a sign of hope pointing to the glory of God.

The idea was to continually remind those whom he loved that there is hope through the darkness, peace amidst the chaos, love despite feelings of being alone, and joy that is not a fake-happy but rather a contentment with what is. 

This year, through the other side of death, my dad continues to share the Good News.  This angel is one that my dad made. It is edged in blue stain – reminding us to embrace sadness and grief – the angel cradles a bird in its hands to reassure each of us that we do not walk alone; we are held in God’s hands, we are held by this community – a shared grief, a shared seeking of hope; we are not alone.  The angel also offers a promise: that to everything there is a season; a season for laments and one for joyous singing; and as we live in Nova Scotia the season might change instantly without warning. 

Over the next few weeks, embrace the angel songs –whether laments or joyous acclamations.

Be present for each other, open with family and friends about the season you are in, share tears, and laughter, stories, remembrances, and create new traditions.

Carry with you the words of the prophet, as words of hope and words for action: Comfort, O comfort my people says your God.

As you comfort others, you also will be comforted; here you will find God – love, hope, peace will be exchanged and grow into joy for the present and for time eternal.

Peace be with you.

Dispelling Disney

Reign of Christ A-2014

Music is floating through the air – something catchy, that brims with happiness, and swells in volume and rhythm – it is enhanced by an animated dust; sparkles and stars wisping across the screen drawing our attention to the destination. The destination is a greyish castle on a hill. It looks kind of sad.  As we are taken inside the fortress, the story is unraveled – it’s not always the same story – but it is one that involves a kingdom where the royal family has come on hard times.  It could be that the king or queen has died, that there has been a spell cast or an evil stepmother has been brought into the house.  The story usually consists of a prince needing to find a girl, or trying to win a girl, or a princess in desperate need of being rescued by some prince. As the story works itself through there is darkness to be conquered, nasty people or places to be bested, judgements to be made of right and wrong, good and evil. As the story comes to an end everything works out.

The catchy happy music swells through the air, accompanied by trumpets and bells, and the scene is now one where a multi-coloured castle on a very tall hill replaces that which was grey.  The castle is shown in its glory. With its bridge and ornamental gate decorated with festoons of flowers, turrets wear bright flags.  One can hear laughter, music, and dancing.  In the courts the peasants hardly look like peasants, all decked out in their best. Even the animals are dancing. Everyone is happy because there is a prince and princess in the castle who come out and wave to the people, and benevolently share, after all it is their wedding day – all is as it should be. So the stories end...and everyone lived happily-ever-after.

I grew up with this Disney fairytale told and re-told through my childhood.  Disney has described, for a number of generations –starting in 1923, what kingdom means, what kingdom looks like, what a king is.

This is Christ the King or “reign of Christ” Sunday. If you imagine Christ as King, does the image include crowns, thrones, specters, castles, everyone happy, a wedding, basking in the kings presense the peasants don’t look like peasants? With Christ as King do the evil characters in the story face punishment and everyone else in the kingdom live happily-ever-after?

I learned this week that Christ the King Sunday is not an ancient observance in the church.  It was

instituted two years after Disney started to spin their version of kingdom.  In 1925 it began at the behest of Pope Pius XI; Lutherans and Anglicans began celebrating the Feast in the 1970’s.

Pius XI instituted the feast in response to growing Italian nationalism and secularism. At the time the Italian government and the papacy were fighting – it started when Rome was declared the capital of Italy, and the church was relegated to the Vatican – the church hierarchy said they felt like prisoners.

The creation of the feast was to say to the Italian government and secular rule, Christ is King – ie. better than you; and only in Christ can one live happily-ever-after.

The Evangelical Lutheran Church of Sweden would have none of the happily-ever-after focus, so this day is referred to as the Sunday of Doom.  Prior to 1983 the focus was the final judgement, now the topic of the day is the Return of Christ. So what happens with Christ’s return?

There is no denying that the texts read today have a component of separating one from another, of judgment, a winnowing and that the king exercises this task – goats from sheep. I prefer Ezekiel’s version where he allows room for the Lord God to seek the lost, to bring back the strayed, to bind up the injured, and to strengthen the weak.  And those who are fat or strong – in other words those who have been unjust  - God will feed them with justice. Everyone has had a chance, beyond that, God has pursued all people.  The focus is not about the other, it is about sheep and sheep.

Matthew goes there in a different way: look at the amount of sound-bites Jesus uses in the passage that are not focused on the separation of sheep and goats. The focus is on Jesus’ interpretation on the law being lived out in his day... taking care of the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick, and the prisoner. Is Jesus revolutionizing the idea of Kingdom?  Is Jesus dispelling the Disney of his day?

Pius XI, in instituting Christ the King Sunday was trying, if you will, to dispel the Disney of his day. He was trying to redeem Kingdom away from the power he saw in the politics around him. He was reminding people of the kingdom prepared from the foundation of the world – a kingdom outside of human control.  Pius also had a heart for the laity, the sheep - through the celebration of the Feast, the liturgy, the texts, the sermon, he wanted people to:   in his own words-

"The faithful, moreover, by meditating upon these truths [truths about Christ as King], will gain much strength and courage, enabling them to form their lives after the true Christian ideal. If to Christ our Lord is given all power in heaven and on earth; if all men [and women], purchased by his precious blood, are by a new right subjected to his dominion; if this power embraces all men [and women], it must be clear that not one of our faculties is exempt from his empire. He must reign in our minds, which should assent with perfect submission and firm belief to revealed truths and to the doctrines of Christ. He must reign in our wills, which should obey the laws and precepts of God. He must reign in our hearts, which should spurn natural desires and love God above all things, and cleave to him alone. He must reign in our bodies and in our members, which should serve as instruments for the interior sanctification of our souls, or to use the words of the Apostle Paul, as instruments of justice unto God."

Are we also to be about dispelling the Disney of our day? To live as Pope Pius commends, with Christ being the centre of our being, reigning in us and thus through us as instruments of justice in a hurting world?

While wrestling with the thought of sheep and goats being separated, sheep from sheep, some form of accounting for things done and left undone; considering what hell or eternal punishment might be; a hope of kingdom, heaven, eternal life; not to dismiss these or sanitize the text...I need to ask what would Jesus’ have us focus on. Could it be describing kingdom and kingship in a counter-cultural way?

The counter to Happily-ever-after in the Disney fairy tale, is a gospel of less, a gospel that is not about accumulating castle, riches, princesses; its  not about purchasing or chasing after happiness. Happily-ever-after is more of a contentment and a joy that grows out of service, as in giving ourselves away as bread for the hungry.  In this we concentrate on the service, the offering of the gospel, Good News and the kingdom comes near; Christ reigns in and through our hearts.  Could this be the growth of righteousness – living from the abundance of Christ’s reign – into eternal life?

In my former parish there was a gentleman who truly was by all appearances and actions a Godly and faithful believer. He shared with me that if the time came that I was to do his funeral he didn’t want me to talk about him, other than to say that his only desire was to have a small spot in the corner of the mouse hole that was in the kingdom of God. To him the mouse hole would be room enough, a space from which he could eat the scraps from God’s table, that there would be enough warmth and light that it could be felt from the darkest corner. –no crowns, no jewels, no castle-

-just a place where there is enough room for the tiniest of creature, to be sheltered, warm, and fed.

What an image of the kingdom, the corner of a mouse hole. And in that corner there would be more than enough grace and love.

Albert Einstein said:

Your question is the most difficult in the world. It is not a question I can answer simply with yes or no. ...The problem involved is too vast for our limited minds. May I not reply with a parable? The human mind, no matter how highly trained, cannot grasp the universe. We are in the position of a little child, entering a huge library whose walls are covered to the ceiling with books in many different tongues. The child knows that someone must have written those books. It does not know who or how. It does not understand the languages in which they are written. The child notes a definite plan in the arrangement of the books, a mysterious order, which it does not comprehend, but only dimly suspects. That, it seems to me, is the attitude of the human mind, even the greatest and most cultured, toward God. We see a universe marvelously arranged, obeying certain laws, but we understand the laws only dimly. Our limited minds cannot grasp the mysterious force that sways the constellations.

So too we cannot grasp the mysterious nature of Christ the King and the marvellously arranged kingdom prepared from the foundation of the world. We can, however, feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, welcome the stranger, visit the sick and imprisoned. And perhaps in the giving away of ourselves as bread for the hungry we will experience a small piece of the kingdom – warmth and light, grace and love – not in a castle but in everyday living, in the dusty corners of the mouse hole in God’s house.

Amen.

What Do We Own?

I was asked by visitors from the USA for a copy of this sermon.  Thought that others might connect with what was said as well.

PENTECOST 19A-2014   ©Rev. Dr. Kimberlynn McNabb, Lutheran Church of the Resurrection, Halifax, NS

In the movie, “Finding Nemo,” seagulls are characterized as a bird that congregates in large groups, pests that are loud and squawky and repeat in nauseating chorus... “mine, mine, mine.”

The dictionary definition for ownership reads: ownership is to have or hold as property, to possess; to have power or mastery over; belonging to oneself or itself (usually used after a possessive to emphasize the idea of ownership, interest, or relationship conveyed by the possessive).

The situation posed by Matthew in the Gospel is one of ownership:

The Pharisees see themselves as owners of the Covenant Law.  There is a connection to the Temple.  They own tradition, the interpretation of the Law, the judgement of others breaking of the Law. They own the practice of daily religion.  The Herodians are owners of a political ideology – Judeans who support the government in the rule of the Herods at the behest of Rome.   

Currency is issued and owned by the ruling government, the Emperor, Rome.

Take a moment and recall the readings from Matthew over the past two months.  Jesus has been telling parables about a vineyard.  Every one of the parables reflects Jesus addressing issues of ownership. Who owns the vineyard – the land, the vines, or the harvest? Who is included or excluded as owners or workers? Who owns the responsibility? Ultimately is the vineyard God’s? Jesus purposefully addresses ownership with parables that seem to annoy and even anger those who hear them.  Annoyance and anger are routed in a gut reaction to the audacity of Jesus to confront instilled senses of ownership.

Ownership is our relationship with stuff – material possessions, money, ideas, community, beliefs.

How are you with your stuff?

What do you own?

What do we as a church own?

Much of my pastoral ministry has and does involve issues of ownership. 

There are stewardship concerns including conversations around leaving endowments or money to the church, or giving of a tithe (is it on net or gross income); or guilt around what one has and how does one go about sharing it.

There are grief concerns, perhaps at the loss of money or property; or the inability to find an equitable wage to subsist with food and housing; perhaps there is grief around the ways one has accumulated their riches.

There are property concerns, like the maintenance of church buildings taking precedent over mission; money being the key topic of discussion at meetings; budget making, that accounts for every pencil. There are discussions on the oft pervasive theology of scarcity and acting from this belief.

There are power concerns – who owns the power – church councils, the pastor, a loud contingent or a passionate member?

And what about ideas – who owns what is said, how worship is enacted.

Who owns – or does anyone- own decisions, possible mistakes, or mission statements.

All of us in some way are like the seagulls, somewhere along the way we as a church and as individuals will say “mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.”  So consider the questions, how are you with your stuff?

What do you own? What does the church own?

This morning we are called to entertain the answer – nothing!

We own nothing.

In downtown Toronto there is a large brick church surrounded by a park with mature trees, park benches – the church and part take up a good portion of the city block.  The church is Lutheran and houses a Latvian/Estonian community.  For years this church was serviced by their European parents – particularly in the calling of pastors.  They are in relationship with and part of the Eastern Synod.  Currently the congregation is in the process of looking at what they own.

Physically, in a legal sense, they own –by deed- a very lucrative piece of property.

They have a large building on this land; owned by them, as in paid for, and have been responsible in maintenance and upkeep.

One could argue that the contents of the building: pews, hymn books, chairs; belong to the congregation as items purchased over the years. They own the land, the church building, and the church contents.

The church looked at what they own and they realized that there was far more to ownership than the physical things I mentioned.   The church has been studying and working on listening to what God’s call is for them as a community of faith.  Through the process they have taken ownership for a mission statement.

The community’s realization was that although financially feasible, meaning they could continue, with property, building, worship services for a comfortable amount of time; in the end what they owned, was not theirs to own, rather, the property is part of God’s kingdom for this place and time.  They felt they were not using the resource the way it could be used, and that their mission did not fit with the resources they have.

So to be in mission for others they have decided (and are in the process) of moving services to another space which they will rent for the time being; allowing another congregation who is using their space to purchase (have legal ownership) of the physical plant.  This other denomination has a mission that is street based, and a calling to reach the people who sleep on the park benches, engage in inner city work, offering shelter and perhaps growing a community coffee house, etc.  The space (ownership) is God’s!

Ownership is our relationship with stuff.

How does our relationship with “stuff” change if we consider all to be God’s?

How does our relationship with “stuff” change if we live into our mission statement...God is on a mission and we want to be a part of it.

This past week Vicar Mark led the first of a three week series based on the theme of the Lutheran World Federation coming up to the 500^th Anniversary of the Reformation.  The three year themes are: Salvation not for sale, creation not for sale, human beings not for sale. 

In the group we talked about salvation not being for sale... we don’t own salvation. It is not ours to sell; it is a gift from God.  We acknowledged that often the church gives the impression to the wider world that salvation is within our jurisdiction, we can decide who is or is not saved, we own this Jesus thing and can dispense sacrament as we choose; we have ownership – kind of like the Pharisees, at Jesus’ time. But the theme of the anniversary is to remind us that salvation is not for sale.  It is all gift!

If we consider all of our stuff to be God’s, doesn’t that make everything gift.  If all is gift, what becomes of your relationship to your stuff?

There are serious consequences to believing that all is gift and that we own nothing.  If natural resources – metals, precious stones, trees, oil, fish – are not ours doesn’t that change how we use resources. If the money we carry is not owned by us, doesn’t that translate into using it, giving it, investing it, redistributing it in different ways than we currently do?  If this building and the church property are not ours but God’s, all gift ...does that not change how we use this space?

Vicar Mark has shared a story about a pair of earring he gave to his mother.  They were a gift to her.  She chose not to wear them, ever, because they didn’t suit her sensibilities. Vicar Mark was crushed.  Entertaining that all is gift, and that we own nothing, how does God feel about the gifts given to us and what we do or do not do with the gift?

God,

Force us to practice the giving up of attachment to things. Force us to release our sense of entitlement.

Entertaining the idea that we own nothing, may we experience your free gift, so that Jesus’ parable of vineyard becomes true in this church community’s life and practice.  Passion ignite our hearts to live the mission you have called us to; being a part of what you are doing in the world; by welcoming the displaced, sharing our space and faith, reflecting your light and participating in resurrection.

Thank-you that we own nothing – standing with nothing may we live out a theology of abundance.

Amen.

They Were Afraid of the Crowd -Pentecost 16A

The religious authorities, the chief priests and the elders come to Jesus and ask: By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?

Of whom do we – as a mainline church, as Bishops, Synod Council, pastors, church councils, communities of faith -  ask this question?

Is it a question we ask others when they articulate or act out Christian practice in a way different than our own? Perhaps to the religious who burn Korans, or those who promote gender inequality, restrict participation of only some, or those who embrace a prosperity Gospel.

 Is it a question we ask of new immigrant populations growing in Canada – who said you can do that, or believe that, or build your temple or mosque? By whose authority do you speak your mother tongue and not an official Canadian language?

Do we ask it of our politicians? Questioning Bills and decisions – for instance on issues of the environment, the immigration of refugees, honouring treaties with First Nation’s People, providing basic necessities whether that is money for disability pensions or potable water in North? Do we ask the question when federal funding is cut to CIDA, KAIROS, or prison chaplaincy?

Do we ask, “by who’s authority,” to schools allowing Winter concerts as long as there are no Christmas carols, to Universities who refuse students based on sexual orientation, or to institutions imposing dress codes for out of school activities?

The asking of the question is not so much about an answer, as it is posed to have the one asked to reflect on what they are doing or not doing. Often with the hope that the question will have the other come to a realization that they are outside of their authority and would then desist in their current operating procedure.

Jesus deflects the question by asking a similar one of authority of the religious leaders themselves. Jesus asks them a question that was simple in the fact that it could easily be answered with one word; but oh so complicated in the context of the situation.  “Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?” The religious authorities should have the authority to answer this question.  Yet the ownership and conveyor of authority in any instance is fickle.

In this instance religious authority chooses their action and response when speaking to an authority they deem might just be from God, and when confronted with the authority of a crowd who have the potential to rebel based on their response and in so doing incite the ruling authority of the Romans, to revert to a stand based on fear.  THEY WERE AFRAID OF THE CROWD – so the answer given to Jesus was,  “we do not know.”

Are we afraid of the crowd? What people will say or think about us? What the powers that be might do to us or take away?

Say too much and your non-profit might be audited, or your charity number be taken away so you cannot issue tax receipts. What ministry doesn’t happen because we are afraid of getting sued – perhaps our services are too loud.

This is Back to Church Sunday, where the lead up weeks encouraged and reminded members to invite friends, family, co-workers, and neighbours to church. Did you invite someone? Do you invite - - - or are you afraid of the crowd so to speak?

Feltzen South’s anniversary Sunday, Resurrection’s 100^th next year, in our history we were the crowd – the people who went out to be baptized by John, those outside the main church of the day. We were a group of immigrant people starting over, surviving and growing, keeping culture, language, hymns, ethnic tradition, and food through potluck. In the beginning we were the other, a place to go that was not British or French.  We tried to avoid being asked “by whose authority do you do these things?”

But times change, some of us still hide out as if we are the other when really we are a full part of the mainline church. We are a fixed institution. How is it that we relate to the question, “by whose authority?”

As a church – a National church – as a member of the Lutheran World Federation – a federation that includes 69 million Lutherans around the world. The church is daring to ask the question...

By whose authority...

There comes a point in the life of God’s people when their religious institutions die because they will not confront the question of authority. And far too often are afraid of the crowd so will not take a stand.

By whose authority do we do what we do?... God’s, the church hierarchy, the church rules and operating procedures, church councils, our own, or does our authority come from baptism within a community, where we are named a beloved child of God, empowered by the Holy Spirit, fed and nourished, and participants in a liturgy of the people for the healing of the world.

The ELCIC has chosen to confront authority that acts outside and in opposition to society’s understanding of the kindom of God. Letters are written to parliament hill; demonstrations and protests are attended; relationships are forged with indigenous peoples; peoples and refugees from around the world are welcomed; resources are sent to the Evangelical Lutheran church of Jordan and the Holy Land; statements are made on social, moral, and ethical issues; support is given to displaced people in places like Kakuma and Za’atari; prayers are offered for countries ravished by Ebola, decimated by war, or devastated by natural disaster.

There is a sense in this church in which we belong, that hiding out is not the intended plan for the next 10 yrs. Over the past decade and a half there has been a particular focus on being a church that is in mission for others – decisions made are made looking through this lens.  The plan is to live into and out of the promises of baptism/confirmation – to embrace the prayers said on each of us in that moment; to live by the grace freely given in the Holy Supper.  We are about giving ourselves away as bread for the hungry.  As we live into our mission statement, it has meant that the church has chosen to take a stand, to be a voice; to not be afraid of the crowd, or whichever crowd holds authority.  We plan to play an active role in bringing the Kindom by transforming the world around us to live by the principles offered in the parables of the vineyard presented the past couple of weeks – where the first end up last and the last first, where a land owner is lavishly generous and it matters not on merit or what people think is fair.

This week I have a day in ON with a group of pastors who for the past 3 years have been engaged in leadership development. The event is at Crief Hills – a rustic Presbyterian retreat centre. When I was a little girl my family tented at this facility and participated in a weekend event.  I was 5 and was so pleased that one afternoon the older kids invited me to play hide and seek.  To make a long story short, I went through a wooden gate, walked through the tall field grass, went over a rise and I was lost.  Disoriented.  Scared. I found a fence and followed it; I crawled under the fence when there was a space to do so and followed the road – more scared - when a police car came by I thought I was rescued.  Terror set in when he passed me by.  I have never been that scared.  I turned around to follow where the police car went, crying, alone, lost.  As I went over the rise in the road there was the entrance to the camp.  I felt like I had been lost forever, no one really seemed to notice, until they saw the distress I was in.

What I realized with the reading for today and the memory of Crief Hills, when they collided; what really scares me is not the changing face of the church, people judging me because I go to church and believe in God; I’m not afraid of losing taxable donation credits, being embarrassed because someone might say “no” when I invite them to church; it is not fear of what might happen if the church says too much on issues of importance, or pushes the authorities of the day to adverse consequences; I’m not afraid of persecution or death because of the stand I or the church takes to bring God’s kingdom to earth --- what scares me the most is being lost alone.

Back to Church Sunday and Church anniversaries are a reminder that we are not alone, we are community of people centred around the Christ event, empowered as a community through sacrament – God’s grace – freely given so that we might be bread for the hungry, be a different kind of authority that is not embarrassed to seek to build the kingdom of God; a community that invites all to come along and be part of the journey, where there is bread in abundance and more to share.

This week you are encouraged to reflect on the phrase, “by whose authority?” Apply the question to your understandings and your actions.  Consider the question in relation to the church – to Resurrection (to St.John’s by the sea). What do we do and by whose authority to we do it?   Ponder - of whom, are we as a community of faith, to ask this question.

Amen.