Shelter Sermon: Word and Creativity

 

I brought with me this morning my well-loved bunny, Lieblich, to offer as an image of shelter. At night, Lieblich and I crawl into bed. We cozy down under the covers and snuggle into comfort, sheltered from whatever is going on around us, we safely drift into a good night’s sleep.

A few weeks ago, I led a retreat for Anglican colleagues on preaching the texts of Advent. For Advent 1 we explored the texts through a practice called florilegia. This is a practice I have talked about before, where, as you read through the texts you write down the words and phrases that speak to you, grab your attention, peak curiosity, draw out an emotion, or bring comfort. You collect the words and phrases, as if you have picked a bouquet of flowers – thus the Latin name florilegia.

As nice as it is to collect a bouquet of words and phrases – many of which brought comfort, it was through an additional step that something magical happened. Each person was invited to take the words and phrases they had gathered from the scripture texts and write a poem with them. It did take some encouragement from me, to assure everyone that indeed they could write poetry.

What happened was magic. Working with the words and phrases, people experienced them weaving together, renewing interpretations of the texts, awakening imagination, and creating pathways of hopes and dreams. Sheltering in words and phrases from holy scripture was only the beginning. Internalizing that shelter came through the creation and imagination process, with the piece of art (poetry) being a place of home – meaning a place that holds one in safety, whatever the expression; in creative offering one is welcome to be themselves and fully belong. It is a place of shelter where one is free from the outside world, in tune with the home of self, and in tune with the holy.

 

Consider for a moment music that feels like shelter for you. This would be music that was formative, that takes you to a specific era of your life, music that makes you feel a sense of belonging; music that speaks to your heart, makes you cry or rejoice or both; music that can change your mood, satisfy loneliness or longing, or affects you in some way.

A few eras of music come to my mind from conversations I have had with people over the years. Big band music, Elvis, the Beatles, music associated with Woodstock, folk music, disco … and so on … poetry of those times set to music, where the words and phrases gathered grew out of protest, or in contrast, to the chaos in the surrounding world. The music creation and the continued participation of art through singing the lyrics and playing the scores, invited people of the time to shelter in the words and music. Once sheltered people’s imaginations expanded and with hope and peace to face the world with all its problems.

Presently Taylor Swift has been performing, “The Eras Tour.” Thousands of people went to the concerts in Toronto, thousands more were unable to get tickets. This is true wherever she goes to do concerts. Her fans are called Swifties, having their own community and subculture, influencing various industries and popular culture. They are a creative group, making friendship bracelets cool again, wearing sparkles, and through the Swifty community raising money and as groups volunteering for all kinds of social justice projects.

Swifties have found a place to shelter. Shelter as a place of belonging, being oneself, finding love and acceptance; hearing joy and sadness – a variety of emotions in the songs- that reflect on life as they are experiencing it. The fan group and the music speak in contrast to what is going on in the world. In the music people find shelter – for a moment- from climate crisis, threat of nuclear war, the collapse of democracy—once sheltered people’s imaginations expand and with hope and peace are able to face the world with all its problems.

 

I believe that role of church and church community is sheltering people so that their imaginations are open and free to create. The Holy Spirit is a very present help in times of trouble however, she is a co-creator. Ever wonder about all the ‘art’ projects, mural walls, hand painted items, homemade posters, colouring sheets I encourage you to participate in. I am really inviting you to open your imagination so that the Holy Spirit can co-create through you. She co-creates within us through art and music, creating in us shelter that gets passed on in hope, joy, love, peace, perseverance, … all that is needed to face the suffering and the troubles of the world.

 

It is Advent, a season of the church year, where there is much in the scripture texts, images, and hymns to be collected as words and phrases of shelter. During services the florilegia we hear and gather is placed beside and woven into conversation of end times, catastrophic events, and a world that is far from an expression of God’s kindom.

The season of Advent – meaning coming- is an offering in the church year cycle to reflect on Christ’s coming; as a baby in Bethlehem, as God incarnate to a hurting world, as Christ coming still-

It is a season of readying our hearts to be home for Christ.

It is a season to find shelter for our hearts, souls, spirits, as the longest nights draw near, as chaos abounds outside the walls of the church. We choose to shelter together, to worship, to focus on preparing for Christ’s coming. Through art, singing, decorating, baking, gathering, we create. When we create, shelter is experienced, and home found – and in this creation there is hope and peace to share.

 

Just as I take my well-loved bunny to bed at the end of a day, finding there comfort, safety, and shelter – so too I find comfort, safety, and shelter in words, phrases, and fellowship in this home.

At the end of session one of the retreat, I shared the poem I wrote from the words and phrases of holy text, and I found shelter in the process of creation; an Advent hope and peace for days to come. The poem:

Surely

there is a house

in those days

one for Judah, one for Israel

Surely

in these days

more than a bunch of broken tents

 

Earnestly

there is a promise to live in safety

in that time

Earnestly

restore whatever is lacking in housing

in this time

 

Fulfill

all these things

a house

roofs of righteousness

heart

Fulfill

all these things

a house

increase and abound

hearts to build homes

Home and home ♥

Advent Shelter Theme: Devotion #2

“Home” --  by Elizabeth

 

I currently live in Alberta for work, but I have loved ones across the country. My immediate family is in Halifax (my hometown), but I also have family and friends in other parts of Nova Scotia, in Ontario, and in British Columbia. As I’ve traveled to visit, I’ve noticed that I use the word ‘home’ to refer to many different places.

 

When friends and I are on a backcountry hiking trip in BC, there is usually a point in the day where our conversation turns to planning, step-by-step, what we’ll do when we get ‘home’ to our tents. We’ll get water from the lake to filter-purify and boil for hot chocolate and rehydrated pasta, and then we’ll plan to immediately zip ourselves into our sleeping bags where we’ll recount the day’s shared adventures.

 

When visiting my grandmother’s cottage in Ontario this past summer, my dad and I went out for a paddle in the canoe. As it started to rain, we decided that we had better turn for ‘home’. Back at the cottage, we’ll change into dry flannels, heat up the well-loved percolator to start the coffee, and show other family members the photos we took of various birds and trees on the lake.

 

During a December in Alberta where the sun sets at 4:30pm and temperatures can reach -40°C, after work I walk as quickly as possible from my bus stop to get home to my apartment. There I’ll wrap myself in one of my grandmother’s handmade quilts, boil water for tea, and call my family in Halifax to make plans for the upcoming Christmas holidays.

 

I’m grateful for the many places and people that I can call home, across the country. For me, home is a feeling of warmth and connection to loved ones.

 

 

Dear God,

As the days get darker and colder, help us all to find ‘home’: warmth and connection with one another. This might look different at different times in our lives, but we thank you for the various ways that you provide for us. Help us to help provide warmth and connection for those seeking ‘home’ in our communities and abroad. In Jesus’ name we pray.

Amen.

Advent SHELTER: Devotion #1

 

Introduction

SHELTER

simple

accessible

secure and safe

affordable

relaxing – no chaos

close to amenities

Sanctuary enveloped in

grace and love

a place to be

in community

be content – attitude, makes a difference

We live and move and have our

being in God

We are travelers moving

through to our real home

With God.                               ---Mary

 

 

If only shelter was this for everyone! We pray and have hope for a day when all have shelter and shelter that is home. Advent devotions and thoughts have been written by members of the congregation and compiled into 11 devotions by Pastor Kimber. The devotions are to help us reflect on the theme of shelter and home. The theme was chosen by church council as the congregation considers transforming the church property, plans including some form of housing. Housing and shelter are in the news every day and all levels of government are including housing strategies in their platforms.

 

Theology professor Brian Walsh (University of Toronto) writes, “The deeper your understanding of home the more profound your analysis of homelessness and the more creative your proposals for homemaking.” Our hope is that reflecting on shelter and home will grow our understanding and our compassion for people’s needs related to shelter; that reflection will spark ideas, advocacy, and actions to address homelessness (physical, spiritual, and emotional) in our neighbourhoods.

 

In our neighbourhoods there is a variety of housing. Sometimes terms are misused creating confused conversations. A great resource with definitions, charts, and graphs is:

What is affordable housing in Ontario? - Open Council

Housing is placed along a continuum.

Low-income housing includes: the homeless (street/tent), emergency shelters, short-term supportive housing, transitional housing, social housing, long-term supportive housing, subsidized rental housing and affordable rental housing.

Moderate-income housing is affordable home ownership and market rental housing.

High-income housing is market rental housing and market home ownership.

 

Affordable housing – in Canada, affordable housing is shelter that costs less than 30% of gross (before-tax) household income. The rent or home price that is affordable varies from one household to the next because wages/income for each household is different. What is the same is the need for housing that is affordable by everyone. How much of your income is spent on meeting your housing needs?

 

Let us inhabit Advent, with hearts being open doors of welcome and hospitality, let us build shelter of all varieties, so that at Christmas Christ may find a home that is more than a stable.

 

Where did Jesus find shelter?

By all accounts he was homeless

during his ministry

Homes were opened to him,

meals were provided, a bed to sleep.

If Jesus were here today would he be sleeping in a tent?

How would we respond to someone “of no fixed address”

relying on the kindness and hospitality

of friends and strangers.                      ---Carolyn

 

 

Holy God,

as you have accompanied your people through times of captivity, wilderness, and exile, shelter and sustain all those who flee persecution, oppression, warfare, violence, hunger, and poverty. Open our hearts and homes, our gates and doors, so that they find safety, peace, and welcome --- a place to live in freedom and without fear; through Jesus Christ, our refuge and hope. Amen.

 (pg. 51 All Creation Sings)

 

 

 

Gracious: A Different Kind of King

 In 1925 the world was in a mess.

Post-WWI diplomacy was awkward. Imperialism was increasingly viewed negatively. On the rise were independence movements, territorial ambitions, and nationalism. Empires were dismantled, democratic regimes collapsed, and there was a rise of communism and fascism in Europe. Besides the politics, the world experienced mass petroleum-based energy production, advancement in military technology, disarmament projects, and unprecedented industrial growth.

 

In the fall of 1925, praying for this world, Pope Pius XI instituted the “Feast of Christ the King.”

The Feast Day was to remind and encourage the church that Christ was a different kind of king.

The Papal motto of Pius XI was: “The peace of Christ in the Reign of Christ”

 

In 2024 the world is in a mess.

 

This sermon was written after returning home from the Remembrance Day ceremony at Artillery Park in Halifax, Nova Scotia. The service was accompanied by gale force winds and steady rain. The lament from a lone piper seeped into hearts, as the 21-canon salute boomed from Citadel hill. Before leaving for the ceremony, the news reported Israeli aggression on a refugee camp in central Gaza. And as all this swirled in the November skies, tears blurred eyes and rolled down cheeks.

 

In the silence, the pause to remember was deafening. Peace has not come. War has not ended. Over the 90 years of holding the loss of war in a moment of silence, the world remains in a mess. Regimes and leaders operate from 'whatever ego-made-god-being-served' and indiscriminately desecrate life and crush it into ash.

 

Praying for this world, the Church, continues to observe the ‘Feast of Christ the King.’ A day to remind and encourage the church that Christ was a different kind of king.

 

Although today’s Gospel comes from John’s perspective, My kingdom does not belong to this world, year B of the lectionary has had us dwell in the Gospel of Mark. Mark clearly introduces Jesus as messiah – Son of God. Mark saw no need to write a backstory or origin story for Jesus. It was immediately important to plunge right into Jesus’ public ministry and to persist in announcing the kingdom of God. The kingdom was breaking through into the world’s mess by acts of authority and authoritative commands.  Divine authority ushered into the world, through Jesus’ commands: follow me, leave your family, get up and walk, demons be gone, storm be still -  

Bystanders in the Gospel of Mark repeatedly ask, “By what authority does Jesus do these things?”

It was quite the campaign, full of preaching, healing, and casting out demons. The Gospel of Mark leaves in the tricky passages other synoptic Gospels left out because some how they too illustrate Christ as a different kind of king. Mark portrays Jesus as a secret Messiah, with commands to the disciples and followers to not tell anyone. Jesus didn’t want the people to make him the Messiah they were long-hoping for. Instead, Jesus’ authority and Messiahship was affirmed on the cross through suffering and death. A different kind of king.

 

The Remembrance Day ceremony ended with the singing of 'God Save the King' and this year it sounded and felt different. With all that is going on in the world, with the continued reading of the Gospel of Mark, God Save the King was not just sung thinking of Charles III. It was sung with hope that the world may realize, recognize, and embrace a king who is kin and works for commonwealth.

 

Perhaps you are one of many who thinks it is time to put God Save the King to rest and even forget being part of the Commonwealth. But there is within the song, sentiment and words, that should remind us that we believe in a different kind of reign. We have faith that rulers can be different. Right in the song, there is a remnant of faith, and a very simple prayer: God, save our GRACIOUS king.

 

Maybe this is what faith means today, remaining faithful to a belief in a different kind of kingship and kinship. Maybe being faithful means voting for and supporting political candidates and leaders based on their graciousness. Maybe faithfulness is praying for leaders, all leaders, continuously.

Is this not a song prayer to sing for all rulers and leaders: God, save our GRACIOUS Prime Minister, Gracious President, Gracious Emperor, Gracious Supreme Leader, Gracious Chancellor, Gracious Chairman, Gracious Duke-Duchess, or Queen-King? Is this not a phrase to pray and sing to remind rulers that they are to be gracious, to remind ourselves that authority can be gracious, and to encourage us to hold onto hope that one day this messed up world will embrace kinship and commonwealth?

 

Gracious.

Save our gracious leader. Save the parts of our leaders that are filled with grace: compassion, mercy, forgiveness, and love. Save the parts of our leaders that work together for good. In praying this simple prayer for the leaders of the world, we stand firm in Jesus’ authority which was affirmed through the cross. Receiving God’s grace through a kinship of self-sacrificing love – the height of human understanding of kingship is turned upside down and redeemed. It is this grace that we believe can change the world. It is this grace to which we cling. It is this grace that we immediately and continually are called to proclaim.

 

Christ the King Sunday is the last Sunday of the liturgical year. We have walked with Jesus – the Messiah, the Son of God - through the Gospel of Mark. At the end Mark writes:

As the women entered the tomb… a young man dressed in white robe… said to them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. …go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them, and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid. – Mk. 16: 5-8

 

In 2024 the world is in a mess.

Coming to the tomb and entering it, we have been told, ‘do not be alarmed.’ We have witnessed the death of Jesus and the rising of Christ. We have experienced the fullness of God’s grace. But leaving from the tomb we encounter a world that has us living in both terror and amazement. Often, we say nothing of this to anyone, for we are afraid.

This reign of Christ Sunday hear once again the words, ‘do not be alarmed.’ Do not let fear hinder you as an individual or as a church community from holding faith and hope that grace can and will penetrate the harden hearts of those in positions of leadership. Continually pray for gracious leaders. May the mess in the world be redeemed by gracious kinship.

 

Director of Liturgy, Melissa Hayes, at All Saints Episcopal Church in Pasadena, CA shares on their website a beautiful prayer for Christ the King Sunday. Let us pray:

Most gracious God,

Who in Jesus of Nazareth showed us an alternative to the kings, queens and emperors of history, help us to revere and emulate Jesus’ leadership: to love, and to seek justice for all people. Help us to recognize the true grandeur and life-changing power based in loving you and all of our neighbours. In Christ Jesus with you and the Holy Spirit, may we co-create a world ruled not through domination, but in that radical and all-powerful compassion and love. Amen.

A Spiritual Posture: Morning and Mourning

 One day this past week, as I was coming across the Commons, the sky was a spectacular array of clouds. Clouds of all kinds, colours, shapes, dimensions. As one turned 360 degrees it was like multiple snapshots of different days and their clouds put together side-by-side. It was beautiful and ominous. It was a full spectrum between a contrast of dense charcoal clouds, accumulating and moving quickly, and wispy feather clouds floating in bright blue sky. Another day, a windy day, in the late afternoon, all of a sudden it was still, the sky was heavy with blue-grey cloud and the sun shone through; golden. There was a full rainbow and the air was momentarily magical, before all was lost in fog.

For those of you who are sky watchers, this year has been one filled with the dancing of spectacularly brilliant Northern Lights. This was also a year of super moons: in August a Blue Moon, in Sept a Super Harvest Moon with a partial lunar eclipse, in Oct a Super hunter’s Moon, and this past Friday a Super Beaver Moon. The Beaver moon is called such because beavers are settling into their lodges for the winter. An alternate name is mourning (as in grieving) moon, as it is the last full moon before the Winter Solstice.

 

As we come to the end of the church year, texts draw our attention to the skies and the heavens. The readings are apocalyptic and speak about the end of time and beginning of time, the coming of Messiah, God’s justice and kindom. Apocalyptic texts are bigger than one life, bigger than one generation, bigger than human history.

We heard this morning from Daniel: Those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the sky, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever. – Dn. 12: 3

And from Mark: When you hear of wars and rumours of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. Mk13: 7

Jesus talks with the disciples about signs that will happen within 40 years of his speaking. The group is gathered with a view of the Temple, Jesus predicts the building’s destruction. The Temple has been reconstructed and fortified by Herod the Great. It has been a capital building project for 46 years and is magnificent. An older Temple expanded and newly walled and fortified in Roman ashlar blocks. Two generations of tradespeople have worked on the latest additions to the building. It is unimaginable to the disciples that this strong colossal structure will be destroyed.  

It is not so unfathomable today. News reels are inundated with rubble of crumpled buildings and devastated cityscapes in the aftermath of bombs and missiles. After hundreds of generations of tradespeople and faithful forebears – this many years after Jesus’ conversation with the disciples overlooking the Temple- the words are as relevant and as immediate to us: When you hear of wars and rumours of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come.

A little farther on in chapter 13 of Mark, Mark writes:

But in those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heaven will be shaken. Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in the clouds’ with great power and glory. Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven. Mk. 13: 24-27

 

Using images from Prophets like Isaiah, Ezekiel, and Joel, Apocalyptic texts in the Bible -Daniel, Revelation, and this snippet in Mark- go beyond Jesus’ conversation of the destruction of the colossal Temple structure. The images are vast, big, out of human control – apocalypse is played out in the skies with sun, moon, stars, clouds, and winds.

Through November we have been singing, My Lord What a Morning, as our post-communion canticle. The lyrics of the hymn are an expression of apocalyptic texts and appropriate as we contemplate the end of time, beginning of time, and Christ’s coming. Key phrases of the hymn include:

My Lord what a morning … when the stars begin to fall… You will hear the trumpet sound to wake the nations underground … Looking to my God’s right hand when the stars begin to fall.

 

I learned something very interesting about this hymn. As we sing it, we sing my Lord what a morning – morning as in the break of day, when the sun rises. In the mid-1800s there are publications of the hymn that used the word mourning - as in to feel or express great sadness, deep sorrow as a response to loss; an expression of grief. Both words, morning -as in daybreak, and mourning- as in an expression of grief- were common in the hymn’s singing. The use of words makes me think about my reaction to the sky full of different clouds, simultaneously beautiful and ominous. Hymn commentators have suggested how accurate both spellings of morning/mourning are. In Christ’s coming there is new hope dawning and a sadness as the old world falls apart. When God’s promise of justice finally arrives there is both dread and awe.

On the theme of this hymn, African American Theologian and civil rights leader Howard Thurman wrote: “the judgement is personal and cosmic so that even the rocks and the mountains, the stars, and the sea, are all involved in so profound a process.”

 

The redeeming of the world, God’s justice, the making of all things new, the coming of Christ is so profound a process that creation and the universe are involved. I would ask you to try to wrap your heads around that, but it is way beyond us. For today, let us simply reflect on morning hope and mourning tears.

Over the years I have read stories of people imprisoned in deplorable places who found hope by looking out a tiny cell window and watching the freedom of the sky, the movement of clouds, the twinkling of stars, the rhythmic passing of night and day; similar stories of those who are exiled, under house arrest, prisoners of war, displaced, lost – who look to the skies for hope, guidance, assurance.

Considering that apocalyptic texts always take to the skies – I wonder if turning our gaze to the skies might be a spiritual practice for times of war and rumours of war, to calm our natural instincts of being alarmed; to connect us to generations of other stargazers and to bathe us in awe and ground us in Mystery. I have heard members of the congregation talk about the joy of leaving the city lights behind and marveling at the beauty of the stars from the countryside; I have seen your pictures on Facebook of rainbows and Northern Lights; I have heard others talk about cloud formations during the day, and the haze that can accompany full moons. Who of us has not been wowed or awed by something magnificent in the skies?

On those days when you find yourself anxious, overwhelmed, alone, or lost, gaze up. The prophets directed people to the skies before apocalyptic literature, the prophets taking a long view of history. The skies fill humans with an awe and wonder, beyond understanding, further than we can imagine (even with modern telescopes, satellites, and rovers). And as part of the spiritual posture as we turn to the skies, waiting for Christ’s return, may we sing my Lord what a morning – as in dawn of hope; and my Lord what a morning – as in tears for that which comes to an end.

 

Cloud-Mover,

We are coming to the end of the church year.

There have been highs and lows. We have bumped and stretched; accumulated and thinned.

Blow us to open skies; air out our brains, relax our bodies, free our spirits and imaginations. For now, make our billows of thoughts and worries cease.

Blanket us in the cloud of mystery ---to see visions, to dream holy dreams; to awake with inspired innovation, and billowing hope.

Uplifted and cushioned in your power – we let go of ourselves – having faith that by your grace all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well. Amen.

Called by the Widow: For the Sake of the Truth

 Dear Congregation,

This morning I would like to thank you for allowing and encouraging me to continue to accept invitations to ecumenical and interfaith events. Whether it is Week of Prayer for Christian Unity services, monthly peninsula clergy gatherings, observer at Synods, workshop attendee or retreat leader, relationships have been nurtured.

There are times when I think about the value of ecumenical or interfaith events and wonder if my time might be better spent elsewhere. Every so often I am reminded why this work is important, not just for me, not just for this congregation, not just for the whole church, but for the whole world.

After the US election President Obama wrote: in a country as big and diverse as ours, we won’t always see eye-to-eye on everything. But progress requires us to extend good faith and grace – even to people with whom we deeply disagree. That’s how we’ve come this far, and its how we’ll keep building a country that is more fair and more just, more equal and more free.

Ecumenical and interfaith relationship requires each participant and the community they represent to extend good faith and grace – even to people with whom we deeply disagree. I have attended events where I can not fully participate in the rituals like receiving communion, have restrictions not extended to male colleagues like where I sit and whom I can shake hands with. I have been to places where I feel like a token. And yet, I go, knowing that the invitation itself was pushing the boundaries and was offered in good faith and grace. Accepting an invitation means that I have to learn how to hold my truth, and listen to the truth of others; to be able to articulate my beliefs and values, and live my faith- not pointing fingers or trying to change others, but share where I am and from where I draw hope and life. Accepting ecumenical and interfaith invitations is to show our communities and the wider world, that those who deeply disagree can sit together, share together, and be civil and hospitable with each other.

The first half of this week I lead a retreat for the clergy of the Anglican Diocese of NS and PEI. The retreat explored the scriptures for this coming Advent and how as preachers we can engage with the texts and preach the texts with a renewed sense of wonder and purpose; preaching living Word. Not only am I prepared for Advent I learned much from my Anglican colleagues.

The closing worship included the Nov.3^rd commemoration of an Anglican theologian whom I had never heard of: Richard Hooker. Richard Hooker created a distinctive Anglican theology in the mid-late 1500s, describing Anglican theology as a “threefold cord not quickly broken.” Picture a three-legged stool where balance and strength comes through: scripture, reason, and tradition. Hooker was firmly moderate, defending Anglican theology in the milieu of papist heavy Roman Catholicism and Radical Puritanism. Bishop Sandra in her sermon reminded the Anglican clergy of Hooker’s moderation and civil style of argument, remarkable in the religious atmosphere of his time.

Hooker emphasized what was held in common. He articulated a vision of unity in an age of disunity where a church both catholic and reformed, full of angry raised voices, could both be quieted by the mystery of the Eucharist. In the hospitality of Christ’s table, communion with Christ, there was experienced a communion with others (including and especially those who disagreed with each other).

It is for times like these that I am grateful for scripture, reason, and tradition.

Within Christian tradition there is a unity among us, despite angry raised voices, although interpreting differently- we share scripture, the Lord’s Supper, Christ. We all believe that these things change our lives and how we act. Today the readings remind me that Jewish tradition and Christian tradition have continued to share the stories of the widow, the foreigner, the marginalized, along side the scoffing religious leaders and less than compassionate political authorities. Denominations have various interpretations of the stories, but we have in common the stories. Every time the scripture story of a widow is read, listeners hear the divide in humanity; the separation of relationships. Widow stories always highlight human division: divisions of gender, race, status, economics.

In the stories, the widow, who by many or most in her society categorized her as less than, exemplifies a grace and good faith, a hospitality and courage to live a life that is ‘other.’ In the opening her door to a foreign male, in the making and sharing of bread, in the going to the Temple, in the giving of her only coins – the widow- lives and proclaims God’s kindom. She is not dissuaded by the interference of ‘man’s games.’ She is not thwarted by fear or overwhelmed by other’s cynicism. She is persistent and hopeful. She is gracious and faithful. She bears witness to what can be.

 

How apropos that the stories of two widows greet listeners this Sunday. The Revised Common Lectionary is used across mainline denominations, throughout North America and around the world. Millions of Christians are simultaneously confronted by human disparity and reminded who we are called to be by the story of widows. Whether worshipping in a Lutheran Church in the Palestinian city of Ramalla, the Roman Catholic Basilica in Amsterdam, an Episcopal cathedral in the United States, listeners are invited to follow the example of the widow – to exemplify grace and good faith, a hospitality and courage to live a life that is ‘other.’

We are called to not be dissuaded by the interference of ‘man’s game,’ to not be thwarted by fear or overwhelmed by other’s cynicism. We are called to be persistent and hopeful, to bear witness to what can be.

 

We accept God’s call and gather strength to bear witness to what can be, with the appointment prayer from the Anglican Book of Common Prayer for the commemoration of Richard Hooker:

O God of truth and peace, you raised up your servant Richard Hooker in a day of bitter controversy to defend with sound reasoning and great charity the catholic and reformed religion: Grant that we may maintain that middle way, not as a compromise for the sake of peace, but as a comprehension for the sake of the truth; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever. Amen.

 

Unbound: See I am Making All Things New

 When was the last time you saw a roadside memorial or put flowers or teddy bear at a pop-up memorial?

After the death of a young woman at the Halifax Walmart, it didn’t take long for a public memorial to form. In the parking lot around a light standard there are flowers, and teddy bears, and cards. Placed there by people from the wider community, not knowing the girl, but needing to do something with the emotions being felt.  

 

When was the last time you took yourself on a date?

Every year, on the same day, I take myself out or do something special for my non-birthday. A non-birthday is any day but, your actual birthday. I have chosen a date that I celebrate my non-birthday. I celebrate me. I go on a date with myself.

 

When was the last time you asked your friends to talk about you?

This past week I saw an episode of Blue Bloods. The main characters are in one family, a family that gets together for Sunday dinner. At dinner the grandfather shares a story about a funeral he attended for a friend. Lots of nice things were said about the friend, but he felt sad afterward because his friend didn’t get to hear all that was said. So, the grandfather asked those gathered around the table to participate in a ‘living wake.’ Everyone around the table shared what they would say if they were at grandpa’s wake right then.

 

Welcoming disquieted emotions. Dating yourself. And living wakes.

 

For the past week I have been thinking about grief and sadness, considering those who have lost loved ones this year, and those living in amplified scenarios of violence, war, climate events, and restrictive regimes. What words of good news can be preached into hearts wrapped in grief and spirits saturated in sadness?

 

In my role as pastor, I have stood by, sat with, accompanied, prayed for, prayed with, guided, supported, wanted to support, those who are grieving, those who carry sadness from all kinds of loss. My professional opinion is that grief and sadness are always with us, each of us. Just as connection and happiness are always with us, each of us. In a manner of speaking, we share a dinner table, where over the course of the meal some speak more or louder than others. Some days sadness gets the floor, other times connection, and so on. What I have learned from listening to people and participating in the grief journeys of others is that people have unrealistic expectations, are often swallowed up by fear, and people are not compassionate with themselves. Unrealistic expectations. How do we get it into our heads that grief is a set of stages that fall in sequential order and can be ticked off once complete? How do we come to believe that life will settle out and resemble what it used to be and go back to normal?

Swallowed by fear. Why are we so afraid of crying in public? Why do we feel guilty for what the ifs or what we should/could have done? Why do we feel shame that others will find out we are not coping, or that we are grieving different or too slow? Why do we feel a need to keep busy so we don’t feel emotions or lack the thereof? Why do we dread future days and how we will be, when those days aren’t even here?

Not compassionate with ourselves. Where does that feeling of having to do something come from? Where did we get the idea that we just need to be stronger or pull ourselves together? Where did we loss compassion for ourselves and not allow ourselves a stay in bed day, or the permission to be sad?

 

If I was to write a book about the journey of grief it would have three sections: Welcoming disquieted emotions, dating yourself, and living wakes.

In my ponderings, two phrases specifically spoke to me from this morning’s scriptures:

Speaking to the mourners at the tomb of Lazarus. Jesus said to them, Unbind him, and let him go. Jn 11: 44

In the summation of Revelation, the author has God say, See, I am making all things new. Rev 21.

Unbind him and let him go. See, I am making all things new.

 

Unbind him and let him go – I picture the scene of Jesus telling those around a risen Lazarus to unbind him. Lazarus wrapped in earth covered cloth, with a smell of decay. The words are for the mourners, not for Lazarus. And I wonder if the words are more than just for that moment. ‘Unbind him.’ It is not long into the future when Jesus dies, and the women find the tomb empty. What do the disciples do? They go and hide in an upper room behind locked doors, in a grief bound by fear.  Binding themselves in a way: acting from fear they hide, put up barriers, close themselves off, and bind Jesus, relocating him back to the world of the dead. In time the disciples open the door. Opening themselves they are whelmed by the spirit. Casting off fear, they unbind themselves and in this unbinding Jesus is also unbound, set free as they share the Good News of his death and resurrection.

Unbind him and let him go –

When is the last time you unbound yourself and let yourself go?

Welcoming disquieted emotions. Dating yourself.  A living wake.

Jesus’ words offer the grieving permission to grieve, and the words commend a continued posture of walking with grief, or in other words building a grief muscle. Last week I spoke about setting one’s shoulders to face the world with a posture of Grace. The posture of grace has many facets, one being a release from bondage – being set free.

 

Unbind him and let him go -

Welcome disquieted emotions. This unbinding is about giving permission to yourself to take the time to feel. Rather than staying busy and putting flowers on a pop-up memorial - acting, this posture of walking with grief has one stop, and give time and quiet space for one’s grief wrapped heart and sad-saturated spirit to suffer through the emotions. To be unbound, grief and sadness need time and a quieting space.

Disquieted emotions are good for it means you are concerned, engaged, and care for people and are aware of the events happening in the wider world. It is good to be sad, it means you have loved deeply that which has been lost. It is good to be sad, it means you lived outside of fear. It is good to be sad, it means that you were full of hopes and dreams and life.

 

Unbind him and let him go – see I am making all things new.

Date yourself. This unbinding is about letting go of other’s expectations on you, dropping the expectations you have placed on yourself, honouring and letting go of your identity connected with who or that which you have lost, and discovering who you are becoming. This posture of walking with grief sets one’s shoulders to nurture hopes, recreate dreams, and embrace new purpose and meaning for life.

I shared the non-birthday date story with you because I have found that many people are afraid to be by themself, afraid to find out what lies inside, afraid that they will find that they are not enough. To unbind oneself from this fear is to walk through the shadow of the valley of death and grief. And rest assured, you are enough. You are enough and Christ -risen Jesus- is there in the shadow waiting. Christ with God’s words will say, see I am making all things new. You are my beloved in you I am well pleased. Let your light so shine. In Christ you are set free. You are free indeed.

 

See I am making all things new –

Living wakes. This posture of grace is about hearing in the now, from those who love and know you the best, that you are enough, you are free, that Christ has set you free. Holding a living wake reminds us that we matter, that our lives have affected the lives of those around us. It shares with loved ones that we are unbound, that it is normal to dance with grief, sadness, connection, and happiness. It is okay to talk about death. Living wakes allow us to be unbound and share with others that grief is always present at the table and in the disquieted emotions that arise, we have settled deep within us a confidence and hope in Christ, see I am making all things new.

 

 

O Lord, support us all the day long of this troubled life, until the shadows lengthen and the evening comes and the busy world is hushed, the fever of life is over, and our work is done. Then, in your mercy, grant us a safe lodging, and a holy rest, and peace at the last, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. – ELW pg 325