Christ's Reign Lifts Loneliness

 

This photo is from Walk With Me Wednesdays -                  in partnership with WalkNS, the church offers a 2.5 km leisurely walk in the neighbourhood every Wednesday 11am-noon. 

Everyone is welcome. We leave from the Allan St. ramp.

This is one of the programs you can participate in to 

LIFT LONELINESS!

If I was queen, I would be a fairy God-mother kind of queen, so I could have a magic wand.

If I was queen with a magic wand, I would wave it over my kindom, and gift each person with time in my cozy den of heavenly bliss.

My cozy den of heavenly bliss is a room in the heart of a tree, with a round window to let in sunshine and can open to hear the birds. On cold days the window is closed tightly, and the best seat is a comfy reading chaise tucked in a book nook, ready for one to curl up directly in a sunbeam, wrapped in a homemade quilt, with a book in hand from the intricate bookshelves lining the walls. There are rich coloured rugs on the wood floor, and a smell of pine and warm apple cider with cinnamon and a hint of orange peel, fills the air. A hot mug of whatever warm beverage tickles your fancy is on the side table. You are alone and comfortable in this heavenly den of bliss.

If I was queen with a magic wand, I would wave my wand so that all could live in this tranquil place.  From the tree house, the resident can see the outside world, can have someone over for tea; can go out to church, participate in community events, lend a hand; go into the neighbourhood for groceries, write notes, make calls, text with friends – The tree house dweller is connected and at the same time content to be by themself.

 

We celebrate this final Sunday of the church year as the Reign of Christ. For the past few weeks our readings have been escalating in intensity to focus on Christ in all Christ’s glory, and Christ as the centre of the God’s kindom. These, end of the church year Sundays, highlight our eschatology. Eschatology is theology concerned with death, judgement, righteousness, end times, final destiny, beliefs of heaven and hell, and the coming of God’s kindom.

I saw a meme this week that said:

Inaccurate eschatology causes the church – causes us- to:

Wait for a King who already reigns. Wait for a Kingdom we’re already in.

Wait to become what we already are. Wait for an age that has already come.

Wait for victory that’s already been won. Wait to do what we should already be doing.

 

We have spent a year together walking through the life of Jesus. We have heard Jesus’ teaching, witnessed the miracles, wrestled with parables; we have died with Jesus and risen with Christ. Today our eschatology should be clear: Christ reigns. God’s kindom is here. We are followers of Jesus and workers in the kindom. Death is no more. Love reigns. We are about sharing and proclaiming this Christ, this kindom, now.

In our heart-of-hearts we believe this to be true, or in the very least hope that is true – it is increasingly difficult to face the world and see that Christ reigns, experience that God’s kindom is here, that death is no more, and that love reigns.

 

Weekly we receive calls and emails – desperate calls from people looking for a room to rent – people who are nurses, working two jobs, teachers who can not find a place to live. This is not how the kindom of God is to be. It is like we are living in the kindom when suddenly the bridesmaids’ lamps run out of fuel. The persistence of these calls wears on my heart; and I succumb to worrying about tomorrow: what shall I wear, what shall I eat, where will I live. The Gospel hits me hard this morning and sits uncomfortably – I am overwhelmed by the hungry, the naked, the sick, the unhoused, those who are alone.

 

This time of year, I start to consider what my focus will be for the coming year. I like to do this when kindom stories and the Reign of Christ immediately influence my thoughts. Last year much time was spent working together discerning where we go as a church on the property front, and this is well in hand and work that continues in good hands. I also spent time engaging with the neighbourhood through neighbourhood sparkle events- this was the appetizer for this coming year. My heart is being drawn to lifting loneliness - as our contribution to feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the sick, accompanying the lonely.

I heard a conversation this week on CBC Radio about loneliness. Loneliness is the largest silent crisis in our midst – 1 in 3 people are experiencing mental or emotional discomfort from being lonely. Loneliness is different from being alone. One can be alone and not be lonely. Loneliness though is coloured by a sense of disconnect between the person and community, being isolated, often mixed with feelings of depression. Loneliness stems from social needs not being met or an inability to get the social connection desired; such is often caused by major life change whether retirement, different employment, a move, an empty nest, sickness, death of someone close, divorce… Loneliness debilitates and has serious mental health and physical consequences.

 

All of the eschatological readings this morning, have something in common. Did you notice the images and language are community based? We hear an image of God searching out sheep like a shepherd; sheep are pastured together, travel together, the stray is brought back to be with the flock. Ephesians is a letter written to the church community in Ephesus. The letter gives thanks for the community and highlights love toward all saints and inheritance among the saints. Paul speaks of the church as Christ’s body, the fullness of him who fills all in all. The kindom parable from the Gospel speaks of the gathering of all nations, where sheep and goats get separated into two flocks. The readings are about groups, community, and relationship. Food, drink, clothing, shelter, connection – to lift loneliness. In God’s kindom, loneliness evaporates in community.

Feed and quench loneliness. Cloth loneliness. Visit loneliness. Heal loneliness. House loneliness. Accompany loneliness. As a community we can do this! My New Year’s resolution is to do this – lift loneliness. And I am going to do this with a little help from my friends.

 

I began by dreaming, if I was queen and had a magic wand …everyone would be given the gift to be in my cozy den of heavenly bliss. We are a community that can be a cozy den of heavenly bliss. Contributing a little time and being present once or twice a month in activities to lift loneliness we can change the visibility of God’s kindom, now – and fulfill Christ’s call to address the needs within us and around us.  

 

On this Reign of Christ Sunday, I boldly confess:

Christ reigns. God’s kindom is here. We are followers of Jesus and workers in the kindom. Death is no more. Love reigns. We are about sharing and proclaiming this Christ, this kindom, now.

I am excited to get started! Loneliness be gone! Alleluia!

How Do We Number Our Days?

 

 

How do we number our days?

These last few Sundays of the church year we hear story after story of end times. The Gospel of Matthew is on a roll: two people in a field- one taken, one left; bridesmaids with and without oil; management of talents. These end time parables fit Matthew’s character, where discussions centre around the Law and righteousness, with Jesus – as a teacher- being asked for his interpretation. Jesus’ interpretation fits into the discourse of the day, yet there is always something that stretches the listener, turns the argument upside down, and if one really pays attention there is shock and surprise. Of course we know that Jesus’ practice was to do this through parables.

 

For centuries the parables have been interpreted at a surface level, where the master – even if being less than kind or just in the tale- is God; and the other characters are judged by their actions or inactions. This is so human of us.

We get so tied up in judging the characters, and then judging others and ourselves, that we are distracted and do no step back to look at the whole picture. We miss the common thread: TIME- the shortness of our time, the eternity of time, the cyclical nature of God’s salvation at work through time recorded from Genesis on, and to the early church and now us the common thread -Christ will come again.

God’s salvation is at work, Christ will come again – the promise of the parables is that God will come again; return. God will surprise us at an unknown, unexpected time. In the meantime, hearers of the parables are to direct their attention to continually wrestling with what it means to live in faithfulness; reflective living where a person numbers their days. Accepting an end date allows us to live faithfully in the present.

 

I am reading a book called ‘the Worship Architect’ by Constance Cherry.  She begins by stressing that when we gather, we gather for Christ-centred worship: Christ is the foundation of worship and devotion. In fact, the service is bookended, to the focus: the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all and go in peace and serve the Lord. Worship orients us in time, a faithfulness of time, where we mark time following the life of Christ. This weekly Sunday pilgrimage draws us to focus on putting Christ at the centre of numbering our days. When Christ is at the centre we mark our time living gospel.

 

I don’t get all caught up in the end time parables, in the judging, in the fear of being left behind or without oil, instead I have accepted that my days are numbered and because of this will focus the time I have to the eternity of time. The eternity of time – the cyclical work of God’s salvation from generation to generation- to freely live my time as eternity I do a couple of things: I come and participate in Christ-centric worship, I live the seasons of the church year – Jesus’ life, death, and life; and I tithe, giving 10% to Christ focused community.

When my life contains these ways of living, my entire life -decisions, relationships, actions/inactions – spring from Christ.  It means I live free – without guilt, shame, fear, judgement. I live in faithfulness. Christ has set me free.

How do you number your days?

Wiping of Tears Ceremony

 

Once upon a time I had a wooden box that held women’s handkerchiefs from days gone by. The handkerchiefs were small linen squares with intricate embroidery and tatted lace edges. They were not the sort of handkerchiefs one would use for blowing their nose, rather, they were a female’s companion to daub eyes in a teary moment. You have likely seen old films or read historical novels where women carried such handkerchiefs. Stories from that time often had chivalrous men who would pull out their handkerchief to pass to a woman in their presence who were crying. Reading and watching displays of handkerchief use, one might say that the use of handkerchiefs was civilized; I suggest it was tradition and a ritual that brought comfort, even healing.

 

A moment ago, we heard a reading from the book of Revelation, where after death, God is said to ‘wipe away every tear from their eyes.” This group of faithfully departed were a group of early Jesus’ followers who had suffered much because of their faith and the way they chose to live their life. During the days of the Roman Empire, persecution - crucifixion, imprisonment, exile, death at the hand of gladiators or wild animal in coliseums – was common for Christ followers. Christ-followers were a group that were often scapegoats, after-all Christianity was forbidden by Roman Law; they were identified as opposing the Empire, not worshipping the Emperor as god, choosing not to participate in cultural rituals but instead having weird rituals of their own. Much to the chagrin of the Empire, Christ-followers shared their resources, continued to gather for prayer, cared for the poor and forgotten, and empowered the lowly with hope.  The Book of Revelation has Christian martyrs honoured before God’s throne after death; death is written about as a reward after the perils and tribulations of earthly life. Before God, and in the glory of God, those living through turmoil and persecution can rest their hope in the life to come. And their present tears– every tear will be wiped away.

 

I would love for present tears -every tear to be wiped away. What I mean by that, is that I relish a time when circumstances that make me want to ‘ugly cry’ would cease – the circumstances and events that break my heart, disturb my spirit, and weigh heavy. There are many tears in our world, much is lost daily. We grieve: the death of loved ones, the loss of jobs, lack of stability… We grieve: the lack of peace, safe places for the displaced and homeless, failing systems, increasing temperatures, and sweeping change. The world and its people carry much grief, many tears. To hear the words, the promise, God will wipe away all tears from their eyes, speaks to a change from what currently is. I imagine a place where everyone’s needs are met, where all are welcome, where fear melts away, where there is joy in living, where relationships are whole… where tears of joy, tears from laughing-so-hard are the norm.

 

The Bible appears in many translations; one of the newest is the First Nations Version of the New Testament. Curators of this version have this unique and beautiful way of translating the text from Revelation:

…like a shepherd watches over his sheep. He will guide them to springs of life-giving water, and there the Great Spirit will perform the wiping of tears ceremony for each of them.  Rev. 7: 17b (FNV)

 

Is this not a beautiful thought, the Great Spirit will perform the wiping of tears ceremony for each of them?

In my last parish there was a woman who on most Sundays, at some point between the sermon and communion, would have tears that freely streamed down her cheeks. The tears came once she had settled, attuned to the sacred space, opened her heart. It was the space she felt closest to God, at peace, at one with a son she had lost many years before; it was a safe place to grieve, to rejoice, to let it all out. I always appreciated this woman’s faith shown by the way she lived life – and how Sunday tears were an expression of an undying love – she was not embarrassed to shed tears in front of others. She was not hindered by what others might think. The tears were part of her weekly offering, a giving of herself, from the depths of her being. They were a prayer of love and healing. In her coming to sacred space each week and shedding tears of undying love, the Great Spirit reached out for the wiping of tears ceremony, touching and healing her so that she could back into the world sharing love and hope for another week.

 

Earlier we heard the words, Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. The First Nations Version of the text reads: Creator’s blessing rests on the ones who walk a trail of tears, for he will wipe the tears from their eyes and comfort them. Mt. 5: 4 (FNV)

 

Blessing rests on the ones who walk a trail of tears –

This morning I am going to own this text! And invite you to walk a trail of tears too.

Washington Irving wrote:

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love.

In this sacred space, where I feel safe, where I feel belonging, where I feel like I am being embraced, I am going to give myself permission to participate in the Great Spirit’s wiping of tears ceremony; meaning tears may very well stream down my face as I express my undying love – an undying love for those who have died, for those who are grieving, for those who sick, for those wrestling with mental illness, those living in tents, those fleeing war or separated from family, those in refuges camps, those whose futures are uncertain… for the multitude of people I carry in my heart…  for a hurting world, for all the things -people, systems, situations- that I can not fix. Today I cry from my heart undying love – tears that are prayers.

 

The box of handkerchiefs that I had, once belonged to grandmothers and great-grandmothers. One of my grandmothers had a ritual, where in intimate moments she would look me in the eye, and carefully stroke my face as she tucked the hair around my face behind my ears. She didn’t do it very often, but I remember how it felt. I sense the same feeling when I consider the Great Spirit and the wiping of tears ceremony. In that moment, all is well. All is quiet. All is pure love. All is healed. All is whole.

 

This morning I thank all of you for coming to honour your loved ones, for taking time from your busy lives to pause and remember; to open your hearts and shed a tear or two of undying love. My prayer -my tears of undying love- for you, are that you feel God’s presence and care for you, that you experience healing, and wholeness, that for this week the undying love you have felt will be lived through every moment of each day. This sacred space is here, today, tomorrow, and the next. This sacred space is offered to you with love, you are always welcome! As a community we welcome tears, tears that are our expression of undying love, a love that prays for the healing of the whole world.

 

May this be so . Amen.