Thou Shalt Not Talk More than You Act (Pent 18A)

 

Home.

Still in my pajamas, I would come downstairs in the morning. Pour a cup of coffee. Turn on the electric fireplace. Sit on my couch, feet tucked up. Read a simple devotion. Then reflect--- in the comfort and safety of home.  ...that was in April

Dressed for the day, I would come downstairs. Prepare breakfast. Open the front door and take a seat on the porch. Watch the neighbours and their dogs out for their daily walks. Have tea and pray ----from the comfort and safety of home.  ...that was in June

I have a hundred similar examples of enjoying spaces throughout the parsonage – throughout home. These spaces -and the idea of comfort and safety of home- was a foundation for my coping with COVID and attached protocols.   #stayhome – for me was okay, because home is a sanctuary.

I realize this is not the experience of all. I am blessed, privileged to have a generous landowner, landlord: you.

Tents appeared this week: one in the little park across Windsor St., one under a tree on the land where St. Pat’s high school was. In the news, buried in back pages of newspapers, or in snippets that slip by in online news feeds, one reads of: landlords seeking ways to remove tenants unable to pay their rent; tenants refusing to move or destroying rentals before being locked out; proposals made for affordable housing and cities choosing not to change bylaws or zoning restrictions to make it happen; deferred mortgage payment plans coming to an end; year end rent increases too much  for some as they struggle to find affordable living arrangements. All this is current news. And it is local news.

Today’s parable is about tenants, landlords, and property owners. This is our kind of language; this is the kind of world we live in. Some of us are tenants. Some of us are property owners. Some of us are landlords.

The parable of the tenants is the final parable in Jesus’ conversation explaining -answering the question put to him -by whose authority are you doing these things? Preaching, teaching, healing?  As all good parables do, these parables speak in many layers. The writer of Matthew, a Jew, pointedly speaks to his Jewish audience -his community- to question whether as a people in covenant with God are they taking the responsibility of the Law seriously?  Earlier we heard a portion of the Law read: what we call ‘the Ten Commandments.’  The Gospel points out that responsibility for adhering to the Law is vital for God’s kingdom to be present.

When the chief priests and the Pharisees heard Jesus’ parables, they realized that Jesus was speaking to them.

This morning I realize that Jesus is speaking to me – us.

Regularly, I hold in my heart and prayers, parishioners who make monthly choices between phone/heat/food, so that rent can be paid. The Pastor’s discretionary fund has been used to help with initial costs of those entering into a new lease agreement. I have stood as a buffer between  landlord and tenant – as tenants, who feel unsafe, prepare to move out. I have been a data collector and character witness for tenants taking legal action against slum landlords.  Many times I have talked with social workers and other agencies about finding adequate and affordable housing. I have sat in what seems like forgotten wings of hospitals with the elderly – waiting months in shared rooms for a nursing home bed. I hold in prayer a large segment of the congregation who are housed, so long as employment remains steady and no disability claims occur. I hold in prayer another large segment of the congregation who are housed, so long as rent does not increase beyond what one receives for pension.

This morning I realize that Jesus is speaking to me – us. What pricked my heart was the combination of hearing the Ten Commandments, the talk of landowner and tenants, along with the realization by the Pharisees that Jesus’ was speaking to them.

In the parable of the tenants, everything is a mess!  The landowner leaves the country – not involved, kind-of involved, derelict, a large company or conglomerate? The landowner has ‘slaves,’ perhaps more commonly in our time landlord, building supervisor, or property manager---who seem to have no relationship with the tenants and go only when told to.  Then there are the tenants who make their living by receiving a portion of the produce of the land; is the percentage their getting enough to more than just survive on? Do they trust they will receive their portion and not be cheated? Do the middle managers make their money by taking from the tenants – remember the landowner has gone away?

When I hear this parable from the perspective of  landowners/landlords/and tenants --- every snippet of housing issues that I have encountered through pastoral ministry ring loudly in my ears.

The chief priests and the Pharisees realized that Jesus was speaking to them.

The realization was that they – although purporting to adhere and keep the Law- were not loving God and loving neighbour. The rules and actions of this group of  1^st century religious sorts was a whole lot of talk; talk about Laws, showing off how ‘good’ one was, but, accomplishing nothing to further the covenant made with God; to love God and to love neighbour.

As it turns to election time – in HRM municipality, in the US, recent talk of election in Canada should the Throne speech not have been accepted; there was a whole lot of talk ... talk...

Humans are all very good at ‘talk.’ Maybe in hindsight, one of the Ten Commandments should have been, Thou shalt not talk more than you act.

I am guilty of ‘talking’ more about adequate and affordable housing than acting.

If I put the commandments into the ring with the parable of tenants/landlords/and landowner – I have sinned, by omission and lack of action through advocacy, partnering with housing agencies, pushing housing as an election issue.  

Consider –

Thou shalt not kill: how many have died in our country, particularly over the last 6 months of COVID, because they have had no place to shelter, to stay safe, to wash their hands?

Thou shalt not steal: how many have had the possibility of home stolen because of lack of work and systems that are inadequately positioned to help those who fall through the cracks? Or how many of us have withheld, hidden, or complained about paying taxes – stealing from the parts of systems that do help?

Thou shalt not bear false witness: how many people have we judged or down-talked , perhaps as lazy, or labeled those people, or believe it as their fault, that the jobs worked do not cover the cost of living and paying rent?

Thou shalt not covet: how many times have we coveted what others have – bigger houses, stable jobs; or puffed ourselves up because we are fine—we have a roof over our head, why don’t you?

Although I could go on – you get the idea.  I have – we as a people- have talked more than we have acted. The gospel today calls us to quit our quarreling in the vineyard! Get your act together, whether tenant, landlord, or landowner –and be actively focused on the welfare of all parties involved. Be responsible by generously applying the Ten Commandments – doing everything in abundance that loves God and loves neighbour.

A number of years ago, Lutherans and Anglicans, participated in a joint assembly.  On the business docket for each National church body was a promise to address homelessness and precarious housing, to advocate for adequate and affordable housing across this country. In our hearts we have a vision of the kingdom where all are fed and housed. COVID has reminded us of our propensity to talk more than act, to quarrel in the vineyard, rather than getting to work on the problem ---not loving God and loving neighbour- This problem -not taking our responsibility for living and applying the Law – has us in a place of disarray; where not all have a place to call home.

And in times like these – home – is everything; a small piece of heaven.

 

Heavenly One, who although homeless at your birth, Made your home with us on earth, and thus marked each with divine dignity: imbue us with your mercy /inspire us to offer each of your children a safe home, that we may live on earth/as they do in heaven.  Amen.  

 ---Ray Simpson, Founding Guardian (for 2013 Joint Assembly, ELCIC/ACC)

 

Applying the Words of an Ancient Hymn (Pent 17A

 Who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death --- even death on a cross.

The text from Philippians brought to mind two stories – one from long ago and one related to a news piece I read this week. I’ll share the stories and then take a moment to make the connection to Philippians chapter 2.

 

Many years ago I saw a documentary film – it began in a large living room where a dozen or so people were gathering to share in a community healing exercise. It is explained that those participating have been through significant events in their life and require some kind of healing; and that the exercise is a practice that has Indigenous roots.  The film continues in a series of vignettes. Focusing on one person at a time the film rewinds time to capture and tell a deeply personal experience about that individual – kind of like a journal entry on the theme of looking for and finding hope/peace/love/Spirit/God in a troubled time of their life.  After going through a dozen stories, the film returns to the large living room where the dozen people gather in a circle, each with an item in their hand.

Each person was invited to bring with them a gift to give away.  The gift -the item each person was holding in their hands-  was to be an item of great significance, a prized possession, and one of great worth to the person holding it. As the group formed a circle, the participants began by offering a moment of gratitude – for creation, for each other, for their experiences, for family, for new friends, for healing, for the food to be eaten after the gift exchange. Next, each person in turn, shared the story of the significant gift they brought and then would give it to the person beside them.

Those of us who watched the vignettes had an inside story on the gifts being given and their significance to the giver: The kayak that an individual had used everyday since their father died to cope with grief and find peace on the water; the eagle feather, the handmade handkerchief, that were tokens given to the givers by significant people in their lives – tokens that reminded them to be themselves, to fight demons of unworthiness pulling givers out of addiction, or abusive situations; and so on. The givers brought gifts that marked significant turning points in their lives – without the item, perhaps the person would not have come through the troubled time, or come to this circle of healing.

What was being given, was not so much the gift of the item, the gift was in having a circle of people attentively listen to one’s life changing experience. And to give someone the privilege and honour to be the bearer of the giver’s story of resurrection, restoration, resilience.

 

This past week Robert Graetz passed away at the age of 92. Robert was a Lutheran pastor in the United States. In the 1950s there was a shortage of Black pastors so Robert was asked in his career to serve majority-Black congregations: leaving seminary he went to Trinity Lutheran church in Montgomery, Alabama. Six months into being a pastor at Trinity, ministry went into full swing. He was the only white clergy person who supported the 1955-56 Montgomery Bus-Boycott, and actively contributed to plan it and make it work- driving 50 or more to work every day; engaging the congregation to participate whole heartedly. In the congregation, his ministry was embraced...outside not so much.

He -and his supportive wife; along with their children- were shunned by the majority of the white community, they endured vandalism and verbal harassment, they received notes suggesting their children be shot while playing outside. Their parents wanted them to send their children away to school to protect them. Graetz was harassed by police- taken to jail with trumped up driving infractions. His house was bombed, twice. His life’s passion was working on and speaking about civil rights issues right up to his death.

In a 1956 interview Graetz stated: “Some time ago I read that the first requisite of a successful missionary was that he become color blind. I figured that the same was true of my work here. I know that I shall be criticized for my stand. I may even suffer violence. But I cannot minister to souls alone. My people also have bodies.”

 

 

In his letter to the Philippians, Paul’s main concern was to appeal for unity in the community of faith. His persuasion begins with the passage we read earlier, likely words from a known hymn of Paul’s time, perhaps used as part of a baptismal liturgy. Being baptized into Christ means living lives that follow the example of Jesus.  The example of Jesus in the hymn is kenotic – a ‘self-emptying’ of Jesus’ own will and in so doing becoming entirely receptive to God’s divine will. The Oxford Annotated NRSV blip about Philippians commentates: a very good example as to why the discordant factions in the Philippian church should be willing to empty themselves of their opinions.

 Paul then continues by offering examples of Christ-living, people who have had their lives endangered, including imprisonment for the gospel: mentioning Timothy, Ephaphroditus, and Paul himself – all people who would have been known to the community hearing the letter.

The message -after so many examples- should be easy to understand.

As members of the Christian community, follow the example of Jesus, and if that is not plain enough, use Jesus’ followers as a standard for right living.

 

Specifically this text focuses on how to go about right-living. To participate in the reign of God on earth it requires humility and vulnerability; one can not empty one-self otherwise. And then, it is a bit of a paradox because in ‘emptying oneself,’ one is filled with divine grace, resulting in union with God. It is from the midst of this divine grace and union with God that one lives righteously.

 

In our everyday lives, I suspect we do not spend a lot of time pondering the righteousness of our actions, or the example or standard we are setting for right living. If someone were to ask you for an example of faithful -God oriented-living – who would it be?  This week, at the death of Ruth Bader Ginsburg, we were reminded of people who give their whole lives; dedicated to fighting for the rights of others and changing unjust systems.  Such lives can make some of the rest of us feel inadequate – or at least not able to make such a huge difference.  This is one reason I shared with you the story of Pastor Gaetz, along with his supportive wife and children. Perhaps a closer to home example -with actions-that are doable (albeit with good dose of courage) for this community, doable for me, doable for you.

And if not that, surely the example set in the circle of healing is a model of action for the time in which we find ourselves.  Thanksgiving and Christmas are both drawing close – we have spent a lot of time in our homes, physically distanced from family and friends-  we have had a lot of time to be with our stuff, whether material or memory; we have many significant items and powerful accompanying stories ; gifts to give away.  What I am suggesting is that between now and Christmas we take time to be humble and vulnerable, sharing- gifting others: life changing moments, how we coped and made it through scary situations, deep aha moments, memories of mentors/guides/faithful people, times where one persevered and yet might not know how you made it through.  Wrap significant material item, along with a written note or phone call to tell the accompanying story to someone in your wider circle.  There is no better gift than to give yourself.

What I found so beautiful in the documentary film was the care people took in telling their story – and the sacrifice to give away an item that meant so much – only to find that in the giving they received back so much more. The fullness of healing came in the emptying of oneself -to be humble and vulnerable; to have someone else share in holding and experiencing their story, a little piece of who they are.  The story grew – as did hope for the future because the participants were united with each other in spirit. Once emptying oneself, one was also able to receive the precious story/item of the other, expanding one’s connection with another.

What better gift can you give – then to empty yourself – spilling the nature of who you are and in so doing sharing your experience of life, death, resurrection in the moments that have made life what it is. This is you --sharing the gospel applied to daily living, uniting on a deeper level with those in your wider circle. #forthehealingoftheworld

 

Who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death --- even death on a cross.

Unprecedented! (Pent 16A, COVID reopening)

the window at the Lutheran Church of the Resurrection placed in memory of those who lost their lives in the Halifax Explosion, Dec.6, 1917.

On that particular Sunday it was a two-fold celebration.  In the morning the people were commended – praised with the words of Nehemiah 4:6: So we rebuilt the wall...for the people had a mind to work.

In the evening the people gathered to give praise to God with the words of Psalm 26: 8: O Lord, I love the house in which you dwell, and the place where your glory abides.

This was August 4^th, 1918. It had been 8 months since the congregation -the members of this church- had met in this space. 

On Dec. 6, 1917, two ships collided in the Halifax harbour, producing the most devastating human-made explosion in the pre-atomic age. Thousands died and were injured, sections of the city destroyed.  The church record book records that “among the killed were 17 Lutherans (this doesn’t include the Norwegian sailors on the SS IMO). The church property was also badly damaged.” ---damaged such that the church building closed, to reopen 8 months later (as the records state), with repairs fully made, the church reopened with appropriate services. 

It has been 6 months since we gathered in this space, in-person. We are greeted with the words:

..in the morning you shall have your fill of bread; then you shall know that I am the Lord your God.

By no means have we forgotten the Lord our God over the past 6 months, by no means have we not been filled over the past 6 months; today feels different - fuller. Today is a celebration of weathering a storm, keeping faith in changing times, living through a time of drawing on Word rather than sacrament to fill the hungry heart and thirsting soul; today is about the abundance of God and praising God for our ability to bear witness to the Word through new expressions and practices, and finding ways to stay in community when face-to-face is not possible.

Today I feel like, we are returning to the Lord – you see, I was once again comfortable – church life was happening in a scheduled way: online services were working, Bible Study by email led to reflecting and articulating what we have read and sharing a diversity of thought; coffee conversation had deepened my own self-reflection and getting to know others; council was meeting, there was lots of music available for whatever mood I was in, hymns with words to feed the soul.  And now – with a little trepidation, our practices change yet again. Today we will have bread- sacrament; albeit in a different way, but we will have our fill of bread.

 I kind of picture myself in the wilderness -like the Israelites- full of fear, anticipation, lots of questions, wanting to ensure my basic human needs will be met, wanting a plan, wanting an end date for the journey.  I can see days of wondering about where to worship God in a strange place while on the move. I ponder the awkwardness of approaching God with how I feel...which very well might sound like a pile of complaints, but are only an expression of fear articulated in prayerful conversation.

Today standing here, in your midst – those here, those with us live on Facebook, those who are listening to this sermon via Youtube- we gather as a large community...and in our gathering we hear the word proclaimed:

I am going to rain down bread from heaven for you, and each day the people shall go out and gather enough for that day.

Over the past 6 months, have we not gathered enough for each day?Yes, we have.  And we are here today, changed through the experiences of engaging with God, faith, and community in alternative ways – we are here gathered together in an expanded form of community; in three ways and remaining one.

The two texts for today are one in their message to us this morning. They share a couple thoughts in common. First there is grumbling and complaining: the early workers came to the landowner expecting more than a days wage based on the generosity shown those who started late in the day – when they received just the daily wage – they grumbled.  The Israelites in the wilderness complained too – no water, no bread, no meat.

I am sure that over the past 6 months you have complained – grumbled – just because. Yet, as a community there has been an overwhelming articulation of gratitude: comments on FB, notes and emails coming to the church, spoken thanks when paths cross, the giving of tithes and offerings. This speaks loudly and clearly about how we embrace God’s word and practice it; the behaviour expected and experienced in this faith community. The truth is it is not about us – this expression of the commonwealth of God is rooted in the beginnings of this sacred space. 

For us, these are unprecedented times, however this sacred space in its 100 and some years of history has witnessed another ‘unprecedented times.’  Built in war time, a few years later being badly damaged and rebuilt (once again during the same war) in the chaos of the aftermath of the explosion, as well as dealing with ongoing spread of tuberculosis, and then the Spanish flu epidemic of 1918 --- unprecedented times were filled with hope.  In troubled times, Resurrection lived into its name; resurrection, life. Living faithfully was literally building the Gospel in bricks and mortar, and sharing the abundance of God in a time when resources were rationed and scarce.

The second thought that the readings have in common is a challenge to conventional views- the stories are not about scarcity, but, rather, abundance. And the abundance is for everyone! not dependant on a person’s work, ability, position, tribe/race... In both stories, abundance -bread from heaven- is given and received in troubling times: the Israelites are a displaced people fleeing slavery (refugees), the labourers are the dispossessed in a broken society occupied by a foreign power.

This morning’s parable from Matthew ends with pointed questions: Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?

If we put God as the landowner and speaker of these words, God is then the giver of abundance – full wages- recognition, hope, bread, life; an invitation and welcome for all.  An unprecedented action! An unprecedented expenditure of abundance!

At any time, but more poignant in unprecedented times, people of faith have options: A people can complain about what is and compound the complaint by grieving about what is missing.  A people can be envious of what others have and what others are doing. Another option is to set to work to rebuild a wall, as the people did in Nehemiah’s time – rebuilding the house of the Lord – in other words build/grow the commonwealth of God.  This congregation, during WW1, chose to build the house of the Lord - twice. This congregation, during pandemic, chose -chooses- to build the commonwealth of God. We do that by building community and sacred space with the tools at hand. It is challenging, it is different, it is new creation, it is being faithful, it is sharing the Gospel with every means possible, it is bringing Christ to the world ... unprecedented times are not about death. Not in this place.  Unprecedented times through the abundance of the commonwealth of God is what our fore-bearers ingrained in this sacred space, and in our ethos, in our hearts...unprecedented times are about resurrection.

This is our name.  This is who we are.  This is who and what God expects us to be in this time and place. Resurrection.

This morning you shall have your fill of bread; then you shall know that I am the Lord your God.

And with that bread -with hope and life and the abundance of God- we will go to make sacred places in our own homes,  and then set out to share God’s abundance with the world.

I am going to rain down bread from heaven for you, and each day the people shall go out and gather enough for that day. ... resurrection for unprecedented times. Thanks be to God.

 

Sabbath Rest and COVID Reflection

Those who follow this blog will note that I have not posted a sermon the past two weeks.  This will remain through to mid-September.  Lutheran Bishops and their assistants across Canada have taken turns to provide a sermon for each week.  The intent is to allow clerics to take some much needed rest/vacation time, and allow them to be filled by the Word. I am taking Friday and Saturdays as vacation days - so far a blessing.  For access to hearing the Word from the Bishops visit 

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLEaqcptLthDll5SjpDy9HUUl0RQKnGmkO

I am grateful for their gift!

As I enter a sabbath rest, I realize how much I have changed over the past three months.  I am in a schedule that is comfortable in a sense that it marks my days with a structure and purpose. I am enjoying how the church has adapted to the world in which we find ourselves. I have initiated practices (many of them only wishful thinking before COVID) that I hope to keep as life continues to change.

I practice being more efficient and 'less' productive/busy.

I practice quelling the need to do more, prove myself, do things because I feel I have to or should, do things because of perceived expectations.

I practice managing fear - my own and others.

I practice deepening discipleship - my own and with others.

I practice patience with myself and others.

I practice sharing tasks and asking for help.

I practice caution and sacrifice of wants for the common good.

I practice showing my real face, rather than masking feelings and 'being strong.'

I practice rest and calm while 'doing nothing.'

I practice saying 'no.'

I practice letting go.

I practice being comfortable with a lack of control.

I practice accepting an unknown future.

I practice gratitude!

I practice silence and listening to others.....

...until September.

Hugs and Son-shine

Deafening Silence

Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, these three, the ever-lasting Trinity. Before all began, in the years of our time, and reaching to infinity.  Amen.      ---James M. Fitzpartrick O.M.I.

21 secs of silence

In an article for the BBC, Tom Stafford wrote: A "deafening silence" is a striking absence of noise, so profound that it seems to have its own quality.  Objectively it is impossible for one silence to be any different from another. But the way we use the phrase hints at a psychological truth.  The secret to a deafening silence is the period of intense noise that comes immediately before it.  When this ends, the lack of sound appears quieter than silence. This sensation, as your mind tries to figure out what your ears are reposting, is what leads us to call a silence deafening.  What is happening here is a result of a process called adaptation. 

I am thinking about silence today for a number of reasons:

This is the last Sunday for a while that you will hear my words spoken for the sermon. For the next 12 weeks Synodical Bishops and Assistants will be providing the Word to be preached; across the country Lutherans will be united as one body as we hear a shared reflection of the Word. My voice –although preaching others’ words- will be silent. 

I am grateful for this gift, as an allowance for a few days off each week to account for vacation time, creative time, and for rejuvenation.  On the other hand, part of who I am is expressed through preaching, working out -aloud- theology and application of God’s word; this is my voice.  I find it difficult to trust that others will offer the words needed on any given Sunday for this context and community.  On Sundays, rather than attentively listening, I much prefer using my voice.

That is, until events of the world happen, as have happened over the past couple of weeks.

On racism, Black lives matter, protests, and government responses, I have lots to say and nothing to say. ... my sense is that the appropriate response -for the moment- is deafening silence.

For over 20 years, LARC, Lutheran Anglican Roman Catholic Interchurch Committee, -- a group of lay and clergy from churches in Southwestern ON—have met to organize events, retreats, and prepare shared resources with ecumenism as the focus; as scripture says: “that all may be one.” They share that one area of convergence is belief in the Trinity, with a common expression through the Creeds of the church across the centuries. The group acknowledges that “words are slippery things, changing meaning over time and space. The questions arise again in our time: What is this Trinity in which we believe? What difference does it make that God is Triune?

Part of celebrating Trinity Sunday is the continued wrestling with the who, where, what, why, and how of God; not that we will ever figure God out or be able to fully articulate our experience or experiences of God.  We catch only glimpses of the Trinity.  We work out our understanding of God based on the relationship between the ‘persons’ of the Trinity.

LARC writes: “We’re in much the same situation as Jesus was when he spoke about the Reign of God.  He told us it’s like a mustard seed; it’s like a pearl of great price; it’s like yeast in flour; it’s like a net catching fish.  Each of these word pictures or parables offers a glimpse.  But none explains or describes it fully.  As each of these word pictures, and others, proved inadequate, Jesus offered another.  And in the end, he showed us.  The Reign of God is experienced.”

Through the past few weeks, our responses, our feelings, our thoughts, our beliefs, our reflections, applications, interpretations, of “Black lives matter,” the right to protest, overt racism, systemic racism, are all rather complicated and confused. This is good! It means that we are wrestling with relationships. For those of us who are faithful Christians, wrestling with relationship also includes wrestling with our relationships in relation to God; and God with us. Where is God in this mess? What is God saying? What is God expecting of us? And are there – like on Pentecost in the giving of the Spirit- varying callings, based on context and relationship?

This week my Bible spoke volumes to me on silence  - the Trinity dancing in and around, through and between, amidst and beyond – human relationships and experiences. In silence, as I read blogs and posts from Lutheran clergy who do not identify as ‘white,’ hearing rather disturbing stories; there was a deafening silence. I was reminded – embarrassed in some ways- to acknowledge that I do not understand what racism feels like. I have no experiences that speak negatively to the colour of my skin. I can say I have felt left out, discriminated against for any number of reasons; but it is not the same.  I can only listen and say thank you for telling me your story. I read other blogs and posts this week that were embarrassing in a different way; people trying to articulate their thoughts to a point and in doing so just added fuel to a fire; breaking relationships, damaging others. And I had this prayer ---that all would just be silent.

This week my Bible spoke volumes – God’s relationship to deafening silence:

I was lead to ...

Hear the deafening silence as the Spirit hovered over the void, the waters, before the beginning.

Hear the deafening silence of the seventh day as God rested after a cacophony of creating.

Hear the deafening silence that followed an earthquake, a fire, wherein God whispers to a scared and hiding prophet Elijah.

Hear the deafening silence of the disciples after hearing God’s voice “This is my beloved Son, whom I have chosen.”

Hear the deafening silence that followed Jesus rebuking the wind; saying to the sea ‘Peace be still.’

Hear the deafening silence of the Saducees that followed Jesus arguing points of the Law and what resurrection is.

Hear the deafening silence that followed Pilate’s questions to Jesus to explain truth, to answer whether or not he is a King.

Hear the deafening silence that followed the mocking convict, “if you are the Son of God, save yourself and us.”

Hear the deafening silence that followed Jesus death.

Hear the deafening silence of a cold stone tomb.

Hear the deafening silence of 50 days, for God alone -waiting in silence; being still and knowing that God is God.

And then the Spirit came in the sound of wind and rush of flame. For the disciples, words from Ecclesiastes chapter 3 happen, A time to keep silent -turned to -adapts to- a time to speak.

In the end, all I have this morning is a pregnant pause. It is a deafening silence that pushes out the noise and rhetoric. The deafening silence holds my heart for a desire for right relationships; longs for racism to be a thing of the past. The deafening silence is seeing the Trinity dancing in Black lives matter, in protests, in the prayers made for world leaders (especially for those I don’t care for so much), in blogs as people tell their truth. This deafening silence is a figuring out what I have heard, and a waiting for my time to keep silent to adapt to a time to speak, to act ---#forthehealingofthewholeworld.  

 Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, these three, the ever-lasting Trinity. Before all began, in the years of our time, and reaching to infinity. Amen.

 

The Fruit of the Spirit Expands

PENTECOST: Acts 2: 1-21; 1 Corinthians 12: 3b -13

Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful, and kindle in us the fire of your love.
                                                                                                    (Gospel Acclamation ELBW)

I am a reader and devour books quickly. During COVID-19, I decided to change my reading habits to include books I do not usually gravitate towards. This has meant an increase in various forms of non-fiction; the latest being Michelle Obama’s autobiographical book, “Becoming.”  Her telling of her story, and that of her family, has influenced my reading of the text for Pentecost Sunday.
As the sound of violent wind fills the air and tongues of fire come and rest on those gathered in the house where they were sitting, all of them began to speak in other languages. The Spirit presented a powerful show that day in Jerusalem, first with the experience just described, followed by open-air preaching – wherein the disciples were so empowered, lively, robust, shaken--- people concluded they were inebriated; drunk.

As weeks progress, Jerusalem bears witness to many acts of the Spirit – acts beyond robust proclamation of the good news. As the movement spreads, glimpses of the Spirit’s work are captured in texts like the letter to Corinth, where residents encounter gifts and fruit of the Spirit: gifts of healing, the working of miracles, speaking or interpreting tongues, wisdom, knowledge, and faith.
Applying the movement and works of the Spirit to today, what does the world encounter? The people standing in the marketplace or the large city parks?  Do they hear preaching or tongues, see healing, experience miracles, be given interpretation, acquire wisdom, knowledge, or faith?
I am going to say NO, but YES. The terminology we use, the spiritual virtues we practice, the gifts and fruit needed today are different; so the Spirit in her wisdom has moved with the winds of time and expresses herself in new forms.
Let us return to Michelle Obama’s book. Michelle separates the her life into three sections: becoming, becoming us, becoming more. Her sections remind me of our life with God and the way we understand participating with God through liturgy and ritual.

Becoming -
Becoming begins in the waters of baptism. Through water and the Word the Spirit whelms us with grace to flow through our life as we become. Promises are made of how we will participate in becoming: hearing the Word, receiving the Holy Supper, knowing the Lord’s prayer, the Creed, the Ten Commandments; taking care of God’s creation, and living with a disposition to strive for justice and peace.
Becoming, for Michelle, meant a lot of time rigourously working on her plan. From a young age doing her best at school, learning all she could, moving through to university to her corporate lawyer job. All one needs to do to become is to follow the plan, working hard and doing extra, each step of the way to become all you can be; so as not to be a disappointment, to rise above, to accept and receive every possibility in life. It takes determination and rigour.

Becoming Us -
The scripture from Corinthians says for by the Spirit we are all baptized into the one body (vs. 13).
Baptism -although a nice photo-op- is not about the baptized individual. The liturgy is literally the work of the people, a whole community of baptized who together as one body live Jesus into the world.
Becoming Us , becoming community, is not always easy.
In this section of the book Michelle speaks about growing in relationship with Barak. Barak, had a different set of gifts. He was high spirited, spontaneous, would step aside from the plan because a different path was interesting or worth pursuing. Michelle had to dabble in patience to learn to ‘become us.’
And from visits I have made with grandparents patience is a gift many struggle to employ.
For those of us who like a  ‘correct order’ -baptism, Sunday School, confirmation, getting envelopes, joining church council, bringing up own children in the church, dying as church member – there is a sadness or grief that comes with changing times. Across the church more baptisms are happening for teenagers, combined with Confirmation classes; mothers or fathers are being baptized as their new baby is baptized.  Becoming is being welcomed in – period.  Some like the ordered plan, others diverge up or down  interesting paths—the Spirit is manifest in different ways through different gifts.

Becoming More –
This is the section of the Michelle’s book that has me grapple with the coming of the Spirit and what that means for communities of faith. As a family, the Obamas, were happy and their jobs were contributing to better lives for the people in their community. This was not enough for Barak’s spirit...and although it would drastically change their life, and mean going outside of her regular comfort zone, there was no way that Michelle would hold Barak back from the expenditure of his gifts for the common good. This required the combination of spiritual virtues: rigour and patience.
The drive behind ‘becoming more’ was wound up in Barak’s gift of optimism --- which Barak had (has) a thousand-fold over. The optimism was captivating, dynamic, and contagious.

Gifts and fruit of the Spirit, spiritual virtues – whatever term you want to use-
the letter to the Corinthians suggests that the manifestation of the Spirit is for the common good. Verse 7 says: To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. Prompting me to consider what the manifestation of the Spirit is today? What spiritual gifts or fruit would be for the common good?  What is the common good in need of?

In recent months, ---becoming, becoming us, becoming more--- in the life of the church is changing. How we come to belong, how we ‘become us’ when not in the same room, how we ‘become more’ as we consider opening physical spaces and shaping a world amidst, beyond, COVID. The Spirit shakes us this morning, not through the sound of a rushing wind and tongues of fire, but through remaining pandemic – become, become us, become more.

Michelle wrote: “Becoming takes equal parts patience and rigour. .. Becoming is never giving up on the idea that there’s more growing to be done. ... Optimism is a form of faith, an antidote for fear.” Perhaps these are the 21st century gifts and fruit of the Spirit. Patience, rigour, optimism. These are the virtues, practices, components of faith, for ideal faithful living in the midst and beyond pandemic. If there was ever a time, the time is now, for the Spirit to shake us into new ways of becoming.  As we are shaken, look up, put your hands up to receive the power of the Holy Spirit. On this Pentecost, a birthing of church becoming more, fall on us breathe of God, fill us patience, rigour, optimism, for the common good.


Holy Wisdom, Holy Word,
Through the waters of baptism we are embraced and belong.
Through worship, hearing the Word, and proclaiming the good news, we become us – a community of God’s faithful people.
Through your being a Spirit, of - wisdom and understanding, council and might, knowledge and the fear of the Lord, and the joy in your presence - you shake us to be more.
For the healing of the world, may we become more!
Amen.

Resurrection - Shaken Not Stirred

A person of Christian persuasion walks into a bar, to find God as the bartender. After perusing the martini menu, the person asks God what God recommends.  God replies: a Resurrection – shaken not stirred.

This is the 7th week of Easter, an Easter where we have walked with the disciples in their grief, and lived through a season of grief ourselves. If you were to describe this season – would you say we have been stirred or shaken?

The disciples were certainly shaken, first by Jesus’ death, followed by a strange 40 days:
After being laid in the tomb the women come to anoint the body and it is gone, the tomb is found empty; we hear that Jesus walks with followers along the road to Emmaus (unrecognized), then recognized in the breaking of bread, at which point Jesus vanishes; only to appear behind closed doors and just as quickly disappear.  There is breakfast on the beach with Jesus. And finally Jesus is with them on the Mount of Olives, and then poof, gone into the heavens.
All of this shakes their understanding of death and life and spirit and life-after; of belief, of what is possible. They are shaken with questions never before contemplated and implications of resurrection to faith and life and next steps.

Beyond resurrection Jesus has turned everything upside down:
Their idea of kingdom – shaken
Their hopes and dreams of living as an unoccupied people – shaken
Their idea of power - shaken
Their understanding of God’s relationship with the world – shaken
Their meaning and purpose of life – shaken

Until recently the Canadian church -and the wider community- had settled into a life of being comfortably stirred - with just enough action, social change, and loving our neighbour to feel that we had furthered the kingdom in some way. We were resurrection followers in as much as we retold resurrection stories and talked of Jesus as our friend.
Resurrection for us was a pale representation of experiences and stories passed down through the generations from the Apostles. Power, glory, healing, passion, community living/commonwealth all shadows of the resurrection in the hands of the Apostles.
But now, we have been shaken – everything has been upended. We have been forced to celebrate Easter – experience resurrection- in a season of grief.

Lutheran pastor and author Walter Wangerin wrote a book called, “Mourning into Dancing.” In it he uses story to walk with people through grief. Along the journey he declares that one of the stages of grief is resurrection. The assertion is that resurrection is part of grief – grows in grief. Resurrection is not a leaving behind of what was, where everything is recreated new and shiny, and all is good and normal and happy.
Resurrection is a lingering residue of memories, sorrow, endings, suffering, pain. Resurrection is not a rebound from ashes, mires, laments, tears, and losses, rather; robust resurrection embodies the laments and tears and losses, that produce the change that has been effected in our lives because of grief.
Embodying grief is embracing being shaken not stirred; a resurrection with relevance.

American theologian, William Willimon, in commentary on Acts wrote: “Luke’s ‘history’ is the story of that new reality which has turned the world upside down, relativized all existing relationships, and enabled believers to live as people ‘between the times’ --- between the end of an old age held by the powers of death and evil and a new age where the future is still to be fully realized, still open-ended to the movements of the Spirit.” 

I see the present church in a space, not so unlike that of the accounts of the early church.
A new reality has been thrust upon us – we have been shaken- and come to find out we have been
adaptable, agile, quickly responsive, creatively innovate, and open to new possibilities. As Willimon said we are ‘between times’... “the future is still to be fully realized, still open-ended to the movements of the Spirit.”

We have spent 7 weeks moving in new ways;  my favourite being a dancing offering plate and Tim’s dancing at the end of live-stream worship on Facebook.  Lots of people have sent notes hoping that the dancing continues when we start meeting face-to-face.
In Wangerin’s book that I mentioned earlier, he ends with a story of a woman named Gloria who tells him to end his book with dancing. Grief blossomed resurrection for her, when she remembered  that the one she mourned, danced; in dancing his face lit up, in dancing he laughed, in dancing he drew close to the people he loved and drew in those who were strangers. Dancing changed him from the inside out --- whether moving to laments, the blues, a sad-sad-song, or to jives, two-steps, and waltzes.  When she took to dancing her grief, she no longer felt alone, and her heart was lifted, and she felt joy.
Maybe we have fallen in love with Tim’s dancing because it is a visual expression of the joy we hope for, joy we feel in the moment, a way to feel the grief -- and turn our mourning into dancing. In other words, dancing has been an experience of resurrection --- a moment full of hope, promise, possibility, joy.

This past week I had a number of days where I went for multiple walks or runs. I was unsettled, antsy, bored-but-not-really, had lots of energy and was overtired at the same time. My body had finally embodied the cumulative grief of the past weeks. One friend on Facebook called this embodiment of grief the ‘Coronacoaster,’ the ups and downs, the tears, the smiles, the mix up of not knowing how one feels. The good news is that through the embodiment of grief, the rollercoaster slows down, resurrection blossoms.

You are all in the comfort of your own homes. I am going to ask you to try something. I would like you to stand and put your one arm around the imaginary waist of a dancing partner, and your other hand out to the side to hold your imaginary partner’s hand. You are in a waltzing position. There is music playing in your head and you are leading. Now imagine that your waltzing partner is grief. Now take a minute and go for a waltz around the room you are in.
.....
 Do you feel shaken? Shaken, where grief feels like resurrection is a possibility? Grief that is accompanied with a smile or a giggle or joy? Shaken where mourning has lifted, dissipated to make room for the movement of the Spirit?

Easter is seven weeks of hearing stories of resurrection – experiences that shook the core of the disciples’ beliefs, faith, lives, actions, understandings, purpose, ideals, values, and so on. Easter is being confronted with the unbelievable and the unproveable.  Easter is spending days praying together, grieving, and opening up to be ready for what embodying grief will resurrect.
With each step of each new day resurrection is shaking perceptions and turning mourning into dancing.  

We are a week from Pentecost -the coming of the Holy Spirit- who waltzes in on wind, and foxtrots through flames, and toe-taps a rapture of tongues. The Apostles’ feet will dance out of ‘between times’ and in the glory of resurrection that comes through profound grief – change the world.

This week put on your dancing shoes. Embody grief by dancing how you feel, and come ready next Sunday to have the Holy Spirit as your dancing partner. Be forewarned the bartender is serving only one kind of drink  ........  You will be shaken not stirred.

Mother Stone (Easter 5 and Mother's Day)

Acts 7: 55-60; Psalm 31: 1-5, 15-16; 1 Peter 2: 2-10

MOTHER STONE

Not to throw stones but we have had four weeks of Luke via Acts,
Four weeks of words attributed to Peter, weeks of John;
Mother Wisdom being lost as the men record their version of resurrection... and today,
I’m left stone-cold as we get pelted with stones. Please give me a
Rosetta stone to translate Peter, Luke, and John.
Mother Mary was at the tomb,  a gravel pile of women- denoted as composite stone – Marys,
they; sifted stone just capturing names of Magdalene, Salome, Joanna;
Mother Marys’ resurrection stories rolled behind a stone.
The stone rolled away today to be thrown Stephen’s way.
Chosen, he was charged with the equitable care of the widows, serving tables, feeding the poor; offering stone soup—the social services of the day;
 providing for all in need; those disenfranchised forgotten because you can not get blood from a stone--- Stephen kept his nose to the grindstone
Full of grace, -persuasive passion, he did signs and wonders among the people,
Splitting stones; speaking in ways detractors could not dispute.
Trying, they cast stones, bringing false witnesses, false accusations
But the very stones could talk and false was false; truth would rock the lot.
The Standing Stone was Stephen’s why;
he preached longer than any Jesus’ sermon presented by Luke,
longer than any speech by Paul; and he mined, digging into repeated infidelity,
a cyclical pattern of abuse: by leaders, Temple officials, priests, people who thought they were something; those stone deaf and hard hearted----
 Stephen shook their stone foundations with truth – like those before him -- Abraham,
Joseph, Moses, prophets, Jesus; he called people back to the Cornerstone;
Thunk! relationship with God, Thunk! with community, Thunk! with creation.
Pointing fingers, instigating reform, it was just a stone’s throw to his predicament;
Yes, stoning.  Stoned as a living stone.
Mother Mary, just like she was at the cross, was standing on, Mother Wisdom recoiling – watching;
Once again truth -Resurrection- neutralized! Pulverized!
Pulverized stone -heated, pressed, squeezed- in time, becomes new rock; Mother Stone.
Mother Stone is the voice of the Mothers Mary – a composite of alloys, creatures, minerals,
precious metals; stones of beauty, worth, and strength.
Foundation.  Mother Earth with lava and bedrock and stones, created ... cradles life.
A stone foundation of Mother Wisdom – Truth, embraced by Stephen- the resurrection
Truth mined, smelted, formed into Mother’s Day.
The voice of Mother Marys -resurrection as told by the ‘they’
was a story of reconciliation and peace...and it was about women throwing stones – stones that were to:  THUNK! shatter poverty, THUNK! advocate through reconciliation,
THUNK! break oppression.
Before the Civil War, Mother’s Day Work Club- the resurrection story of Ann Reeves Jarvis, taught women how to properly care for children; living stones.
After the Civil War, Mother’s Friendship Day – the resurrection story by mothers; as a unifying force to mold, heal, reconcile Union and Confederate Soldiers; living stones.
1870, Mother’s Day Proclamation – the resurrection story of Julia Ward Howe, abolitionist and suffragette – mothers unite for world peace – mothers against war;
Yes living stones.
And a little later – the resurrection story as lived by Juliet Calhoun Blakely of the Temperance movement; throwing stones,
 to make family relationships right, wholesome, and good.
In 1900, amidst a chauvinistic calendar of male achievements – the resurrection story as told by Anna Jarvis walking in mother’s footsteps, petitioning for a Mother’s day
to honour the sacrifice mothers make for children.
My how stones rained down!
– and paving stones of what could be; resurrection and new beginnings
 –  activism, because of its pumice stone affect – was crushed;
 Mother’s Day crushed! to become a day of flowers, candy, and cards;
commercialized so the raging of women,
their angst, would be cast into a controllable softer stone;
 a sandstone that continually softens by erosion, not a sharp edge to be found.
Misinterpreted and exploited the purpose of the day -mother’s day- was quieted, hushed;
Killed - two birds with one stone: focus on sentiment. make a profit.
As in a farmer’s field after frost – stone picking in the spring-
Political and feminist causes not wanting sentiment to be what was carved in stone,
cast -not the first- but cast the first stone back at glasses houses where people should know better than to cast stones, in the first place -
Tried again; heated lava erupting;
 – the resurrection story-
Told in ’69  when Coretta Scott King used Mother’s Day to march to support underprivileged woman and children;
-the resurrection story-
 Told in 1970 where women’s groups used Mother’s Day to fight for equal rights and access to childcare.
The resurrection story once again out of the tomb in the voices of the Mother Marys;
and just as quickly pushed back in and another stone rolled across the door.
Enough already! Blasted stones--- I want out of the stone age!
Generation after generation repeat the crushing pattern
People are cemented into the tyranny of regime
Ignoring the voice of Mother Stone – Mother Earth, Mother Wisdom - the philosopher’s stone that turns base metal to gold; turns death to life.
It is time -past time-
To get this moss off the rock; to rather be like a rolling stone.
To stand with Stephen and split rocks, to be pumice stone; to be Mother Stone and say no more!
This time of fake stone – engineered stone- is over, for it is not stone at all.
This message is a get stoned and wake up from the haze different moment.
The Ultimate message in the stoning of Stephen -in the resurrection story told by women through the centuries- is a message of new beginnings!
The Gospel changes everything – once one has tasted that the Lord is good;
once one has received mercy- one balances on solid stone, the Chief Cornerstone ---
this is the why; the source of passion;
the immovable truth that allows one to be stoned and not become stone-hearted;
pelted by stones – and yet Forgive
pelted by stones – and able to  Love recklessly.
Like rolling stones gaining momentum we are a landslide movement against infidelity and violence;
 easy actions - Infidelity and violence; the human way to reject the Cornerstone because the new way -community way- is kidney stone painful.
Birthing change is painful!
The Gospel changes everything – what appears innate; stones
Those silenced, the Mother Marys, the ‘theys,’ the disenfranchised again and again repeat -birth- their resurrection stories, throwing them as stones of action;
Mother Stones --- resurrection, transformation, the possibility of what can be....what must be--- living stones; and for generations yet to come are prepared to be.... yes prepared to be... worn down, eroded, exploded ... to die.
So that the world see the Cornerstone, balance there, and change everything.
Written on stone tablets, the Ultimate message- leave no stone unturned-
Strong, determined, mercy focused-
Serve, forgive, love recklessly ... birth the resurrection story.


Be a rock of refuge for me, a strong fortress to save me.  You are indeed my rock and my fortress; for your names sake lead me and guide me. ... into your hand I commit my spirit... you have redeemed me faithful God. Amen.

Shepherd All --- Easter 4: Good Shepherd Sunday

Easter 4A-2020  ----  Acts 2: 42-47; John 10: 1-10

On Tuesday I was excited. I prepared the Two-bit and Itty-bitty Bible Studies for email and FB. I choose this morning’s reading from Acts 2 as the text. I was preparing to talk about life in coming days, to speak of  hopes and dreams about what could be when we start to leave our homes. I was thinking about what we have learned from slowing down and if there is a will to apply some of our learnings.
Contributions to the Bible Study discussion included mention of a community of farmers who each purchased a piece of farm equipment and then rotated usage, a neighbourhood who shared a lawn mower, mention of cooperative insurance, institution of a living wage, and reflections about sharing all in common, including living in monastic community.  Could we live and be a community as the church was in the early days of the movement? On Tuesday I was excited to explore all this.

On Wednesday I was not so excited. In fact I was not excited about anything. At one point I realized I was simply staring out the window into the backyard; I have no idea for how long.  That day I didn’t have lunch, too much effort to think about what to eat, and too indifferent to get up and put something together. There wasn’t even any reading done--- which is extremely unusual as I can get lost in a book in no time. I shuffled around the house, kept sticking my head out the door, and wandered aimlessly not thinking or doing anything.
I noticed that the same was true for many of my friends and colleagues.  It was as if a big cloud descended on us all at the same time. We made it through Holy Week and Easter, offering various forms of worship and community.  We made it through an additional 2 post-Easter weeks and Sundays. For the most part remaining calm, deepening discipleship, being relational as best we can, and staying positive, hope-filled.
And then Wednesday happened and it was like our brains were shuffled and muffled.  Lots of comments in social media messages stated that we feel like we have nothing more to say; or at least on Wednesday we were muffled enough that our thoughts and hopes were all cloudy.

On Wednesday -as I crawled into bed- out of the cloud and muffle in my head, snippets of text and image appeared that came from the Gospel of John; and from the Good Shepherd craft shared earlier in the day.
The craft instructions had people make the form of a sheep and then cut out round circles to become patches of wool.  On each circle crafters were invited to write the names of the people they care about, people who are in their thoughts, who rest in their hearts, people who have asked for their prayers, and so on.  The names were glued on the sheep form – and will be offered later during our offering time.
In all of my years, I have never put human beings in the roll of the shepherd in the story. The making of the sheep, had me reflect that following the Good Shepherd has a component of being a shepherd oneself.  We do care and love people around us.  At times we do offer correction, protection, and set boundaries; just as shepherds do for their flocks.  We pray for people especially when other action is impossible. We bring those in our care to green pastures – feeding them with physical food, life-giving conversation,  hope-filled encouragement, and to waters of forgiveness and unconditional love.

 In the past few weeks caring, sharing, giving thanks have been watering green pastures of the environments in which we live and work. When I walk through the church’s neighbourhood there are all kinds of signs, and hearts; chalk drawings too– notes to the postie, thanks to essential workers, words of encouragement for the passersby. Facebook even made a new ‘caring’ emoji; a smiley face hugging a heart. Congregation members have sent me notes about practices of making phone calls and having tea by telephone; I’ve seen dinners by Zoom, evenings-in with friends on Skype. These actions are moments when human beings have taken the initiative – leadership- to build, to transform, to create a renewed community.  Could this form of shepherding lead us to live together, holding all things in common, selling our possessions, and distributing resources to those in any need? 
By holding people in our hearts, by caring and sharing, by shepherding the people in our lives ---is that the way to a society full of human beings with Glad and generous hearts; having good will of all people?

What I realized in the making of sheep and in conversation with colleagues is that shepherding is a shared task. Some of the people I wrote on my sheep, my mom wrote on hers, perhaps you have some that I wrote too. The good news of this –if I have a shuffled and muffled day, someone else continues to hold the people I regularly shepherd. And imagine all the good will, gladness, and generosity fostered by the extravagant and abundant care given to any one individual by many who hold them in their hearts and prayers.
Perhaps these past 7 weeks, being gated into smaller sheep pens, has been a time to recognize and grow our capacity to shepherd. We are not to spend so much time thinking we are sheep and incapable of making significant contributions to new possibilities of the communal society when this is all over. In shepherding we follow the Good Shepherd considering and working on our relationships. Perhaps this is what Jesus means when saying, that they may have life abundantly.

If one reads the Good Shepherd narrative closely, one will notice that Jesus is the Good Shepherd AND the gate to the sheepfold AND in the gospel of John the Lamb of God. In this great mixed up story where Jesus plays all the parts, where we depending on our perspective can fill any or all of the roles, there is truth. I read this week, in a book written by Madeleine L’Engle, the writer of “A Wrinkle In Time,” that truth is not a fact. She speaks of story and narrative as a search for truth. She writes that for truth, we can read Jesus. Truth is frightening and demanding. “If we accept that Jesus is truth, we accept an enormous demand: Jesus is wholly God, and Jesus is wholly human. Dare we believe that? If we believe in Jesus, we must.  And immediately that takes truth out of the limited realm of literalism.”
Jesus can be, must be, is --- shepherd, gate, and Lamb ... and so then Jesus’ followers can be, must be, wrapped in all three to seek Truth, to live into Truth and experience life abundant – as a whole, together; sheep come in flocks.

On this fourth Sunday of Easter the text opens to us a broader truth -an expanded version and vision- of resurrection.
Madeleine L’Engle was asked after a reading, “Do you believe in the literal fact of the Resurrection? [She] replied, ‘I stand with Paul: No Resurrection, no Christianity. But you can’t cram the glory of Resurrection into a fact. It’s true! It’s what we live by!”  And she later writes, “my faith is not seriously threatened because it is not literal but remains open to question and revelation. It is not always a comfortable faith; it prods and pushes me. ... Let us trust truth, that truth that was incarnate for us in Jesus.”

You can’t cram the glory of resurrection into a fact --- resurrection was incarnate truth lived out and resurrected in the lives and stories of the faithful who followed as sheep, and who shepherded, and who acted as gatekeepers from one generation to the next.
We have had seven weeks where human beings have witnessed the story of truth- resurrection lived out in caring, sharing, and gratitude. An ancient parable of a Good Shepherd is lived in resurrection truth – an incarnational love one for another, that in our old world was lost and hidden in tombs of busyness, consumption, preoccupation, and production.

I guess I have worked my way back to the resurrection as expressed in the lives and stories of the community described in Acts. I am excited and have hopes and dreams that busyness, consumption, preoccupation, and production will no longer entomb us.
The truth of the story of the Good Shepherd is that the story contains part of the glory of resurrection.
There is an invitation to become part of the story to act as shepherd, sheep, and gatekeeps by living and acting from the truth at the heart of the Good Shepherd, which is incarnational love one for another. And yes, we can shepherd the world to live this way.
Hone your shepherd skills, shepherd those around you. Care, share, and be grateful. May resurrection glory abundantly spring forth in this lambing season.

On the Road Again; Fear and Discipleship Collide (Easter 3)

On the road again. Just can’t wait to get on the road again.
This was the ditty that accompanied the CBC show, On the Road Again, hosted for its running time of 20 years by Wayne Rostad. On Saturday mornings following children’s programming- if memory serves me correctly- one could tune into this quirky collection of interviews and documentary segments; gathered along Canadian roads as Wayne met all sorts of interesting people and listened to their stories. Each episode had Rostad forming unique relationships and inviting Canadians to join him on the adventure. One never knew where he would end, and what outrageous kind of tale he would have to tell.

Five years or so after the show began, I set off on an adventure of my own, travelling down the road 140 kms to Wilfrid Laurier University.  In the early 90s, universities were particularly mindful of their female students and their safety.  First year female students in residence were paired with a brother floor for frosh week, and other activities over the year. The idea was that we would have interacted with a group of guys – in various social settings, with and without alcohol- so that we could determine who was ‘safe’ and ‘unsafe.’ The idea was to make a friend or two who could be called to escort us home from late night studying or outings.  The school also had a foot patrol – for any student who wanted the security of two fellow students to walk them home after night class.  The road home from school after night class was dangerous – rapes, thefts, assaults- we walked home with a whistle in one hand and keys in the other pointing out between our fingers, just in case we needed to defend ourselves.

I wonder if the story of the Good Samaritan, would have been different if there was a foot patrol in the time of Jesus?  You remember that story from earlier in Luke’s gospel tale– where a man was traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho when he was attacked and beaten by robbers, clothes stolen, and left for dead on the side of the road. A Samaritan happened along, who offered first aid, gave him a donkey ride to an inn, paid for his stay, and for his care. Imagine the interview if Wayne Rostad had talked with the Samaritan, the quirky repartee back and forth finding out the motives of the Samaritan’s actions, and the nuances of his personality. On the road that day there was a grievous event and ‘on that road again’ later in the day, there was relationship in action.


This week we were reminded how dangerous roads can be. ... out for a walk, out for a drive.. never to return home.
This week’s Gospel reminds us that it is on roads where relationships form that change us for the good.

Roads are dangerous.  Roads connect us. Roads represent the journey of faith.
It is on the road that fear and discipleship collide.




Anything of consequence happens on the road.  Luke’s gospel has the characters on the move – on the road again: Mary and Joseph are on the road when it is time for Jesus’ birth, the shepherds travel; Jesus goes off-road into the desert; on a certain Sabbath Jesus was walking through a field of ripe grain – which turns into a confrontation with the religious leaders; people came to Jesus on road for healing; Jesus sent out along the roads 70 disciples in pairs to preach and heal – with a warning of course that the way will be hazardous. Today we hear of disciples deep in conversation on the road to Emmaus.

On the road again... they were deep in conversation, going over all the things that happened.

I have a friend with whom I sometimes run. We ran together while my children were teenagers, we ran together while I was writing my doctoral thesis.  It was those runs that helped me reflect and put together all the pieces of life, and all the pieces of data and research and thought to get me to a finished written thesis. On the road – together- deep in conversation led to new ideas, perspectives, growth, and relationship.
I like to picture the disciples walking to Emmaus like my running partner and myself – perhaps starting in questions and angst, getting lost in conversation, creative ideas, playing off one another’s thoughts, posing alternative arguments, and ending at a place of clearer vision and renewed hope.

I struggle with THE ROAD.
It would have been safer for the two people going to Emmaus to have stayed home. I question why it was that they took the risk to talk to a stranger, and to talk to the stranger about a revolutionary that had been put to death?  Did they not fear that they might find themselves on a watch-list, considered followers or sympathizers? I don’t talk to strangers on the road.  I definitely don’t talk about Jesus to random unknown people who cross my path. I don’t stop to offer first-aid, a ride in my car (as I don’t have a donkey), or to pay for someone’s stay at an inn until they recuperate. Admittedly I miss out on relationship – perhaps missing out on deepening discipleship by learning from another, because I am afraid when on the road.

I struggle less with THE ROAD,
when I am with a person I know and trust. I enjoy running with my friend.  I enjoy a road trip and adventures along the way when I am with Tim and mom.  I still hesitate to talk to strangers. I hesitate to offer help – other than perhaps offering directions if someone who looks a little lost. 

I struggle a whole lot less with THE ROAD,
when the road is lined with community.  For instance when I know that all of you are also on the road, asking similar questions, acting in relationship, showing how to set fear aside, being an example of sharing the Easter story; when you challenge me, take new paths, or form relationships.

I read this week: We are all in the same storm, not in the same boat. Meaning that because of our individual experiences, our beliefs, personalities, coping mechanisms, resources, communities to which we belong, and so on; we are all processing COVID and the mass shooting in different ways. We are all on the same map, different roads with different modes of transport. One thing with maps and roads – there are points where roads intersect, where we will pass by each other, collide with each other. 
I invite us to consider that while on the road we – as disciples; followers of Jesus- are each a mixed up mess of fear and anxiety, wanting in our heart of hearts to deepen discipleship and relationships; to live a life that is faithful to the Gospel.

On the road again... Luke’s Gospel continues in the book of Acts.  Once again we are invited to incidents on the road: those who leave Jerusalem after Pentecost to share the story in their own lands; the Ethiopian official who meets Philip on the road – who opens scripture for him such that he asks to be baptized – also along the side of the road; Saul’s experience on the road to Damascus of seeing Jesus and changing from persecuting Jesus’ followers to becoming one himself; story after story has Paul traveling to build relationships and communities of followers – Thessalonica, Corinth, Athens – complete with shipwrecks and imprisonments...
On the road is a place of fear and danger colliding with deepening discipleship and relationship.

The question (well questions) bothering me – and I hope will poke at you – is how will I be on the road? How will we be once we are on the road again?  Will we be fearful and stay home? Will we, despite fear, travel in pairs participating in deep conversation about all that has occurred? Will we, despite fear, talk with strangers on the road, so that our eyes might be opened to parts of God that we as yet do not know? Will we share the good news? Will we embrace relationship with all its demands whether first aid, a car ride, or lodging; scripture sharing, baptism, or healing? How will we be, once we are on the road again?

After having their hearts warmed while on the road talking with the stranger, the couple on the road and the household where they ended up met Jesus -recognized Jesus in the breaking of bread. It was not long before they were up and on their way----- on the road again ---- back to Jerusalem, where they found the eleven disciples and those gathered with them.  The two went over everything that had happened on the road and how they recognized Jesus when Jesus broke bread  in their midst.
This is how we could be --- a focused relational community sharing the good news, opening scripture in deep conversation, and operating in the world through words and deeds--- with fear and a sense of adventure I look forward to being... on the road again.

Easter 2 - A Rolodex for Healing

One of my pastimes is playing in a monthly Scrabble tournament with 30 people whom I have gotten to know over the years. This month’s tournament started just after Easter Sunday. As games have been started, I have wished my competitors, “Happy Easter.” One responded, “Happy belated Easter to you too.” I was taken aback. Belated? It was only three days after Easter Sunday, and fellow competitors know I am a pastor; if anyone knows how long Easter is...right?
Easter is a week of Sundays – that is seven Sundays, to equal 50 days.

For the first time in our lifetimes, our 50 days of Easter is much like that of the disciples and friends who had gathered around Jesus at the time of his death. After the death – and especially after Jesus’ body went missing; while rumours of resurrection sightings were growing – the disciples and friends locked themselves behind closed doors. They took shelter and a time of pause. Someone must have gone out to get groceries, necessities, perhaps Thomas was the household designate to do just that. Everyone else ‘stayed the blazes home,’ for it was deemed unsafe to be out and about.

50 days is a long time to be quarantined with a roommate, or spouse, or a few children, or a parent – imagine 11 disciples and the women who had gone to the tomb all together in one space.
I wonder what the routine looked like?  Did they set aside time to pray together? To share and study scripture? To sing hymns? How much did they spend reflecting privately and discussing robustly the events of Jesus’ life and death, and now rumours of resurrection? Did they contemplate what next?
Traditional Christian practice has been to spend our week of Sundays reflecting on the biblical rumours of resurrection – the stories of resurrection appearances and experiences.  We have the gift of pause, locked behind closed doors, to reflect on Jesus’ life and death, and rumours of resurrection.

At some point, Jesus’ disciples and friends, must have scrolled through the rolodex in their brains to draw on fragments of poems, songs, sayings, scripture, folktales, fables, nursery rhymes; not only to pass the time, but to bring comfort, insight, and hope; as our National Bishop Susan says, words, that “manage anxiety and deepen discipleship.” I wonder if Jesus’ disciples and friends turned to Psalm 16 – a psalm that is suggested may have been a psalm that was a carved inscription – written down- and placed in the Temple where it could be offered over and over again. The repetition of the words was to gain intimacy with the reciter for a time when one might need those very words to live, to cope, and to be healed?
We also have rolodexes – either in the form of magazines that we flip through, or social media feeds that we scroll through. One comes across a funny joke in the Reader’s Digest magazine, or an inspirational quote in ‘O Magazine,’ or we come across memes with a phrase or pic that speaks to us.
When human beings are holed up, there are moments when outside interference, interruption, interjected ideas,  inspiration, interpretation are needed just to cope.

Today, outside influence and illumination come to me through Psalm 16.  When I heard the words they seemed to infiltrate my system.  After hearing them, I felt better than I did before. Come to find out that Peter, Jesus’ disciple, found something in the words as well. Psalm 16 was the basis for his sermon that we heard from Acts – preached in the marketplace in Jerusalem after coming out from behind locked doors. I wonder if this Psalm was recited in their evening prayers.  This Psalm was obviously well known to Peter, memorized in fact, and I assume the other disciples and the people who heard him preach it knew it too.  The words were recognizable, intimate words --- intimate because they were scripture used and recited. Peter appropriates the words from the Psalm and reinterprets them for his time and place.
Acts 2: 28 records Peter saying: You have made known to me the ways of life; you will make me full of gladness with your presence.
Peter has changed the words – interpreted them to relate to the circumstance in which the disciples find themselves, preaching the good news, telling others that Christ is risen.
I prefer the words as written in Psalm 16: 11,  You show me the path of life. In your presence there is fullness of joy; In your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

Sitting behind closed doors, I have taken to a morning routine of sitting in my living room, with the faux fireplace on, a candle lit, a cup of coffee in hand --- reading poetry, that of John Donne, or Elizabeth Barrett-Browning; books I received for Christmas. Just reading the poems --- in the cadence I think most appropriate and I plow ahead despite not getting all the meaning; some of the poems I only ‘get’ by a feeling they leave inside me because the text is like reading Greek.

You show me the path of life. In your presence there is fullness of joy; In your right hand are pleasures forevermore.
I find this Psalm phrase intriguing. It feels like it has substance. It seems to be deeper than the words themselves. I can’t explain the words in one go. The words resonate as a sound – a sound of resurrection. There is an intimacy about them a moving forward, along the path of life for the healing of the world.

We have 50 days behind closed doors to reflect on the Mystery of Easter.  We have 50 days wherein we will need outside input and inspiration. Instead of absently flipping through that magazine or scrolling through your social media stream, take a moment and meander through the Psalms.

Take a close look at the Psalms in your Bible. For many of the Psalms translations include a short descriptive, a superscription, of what the Psalm is, for instance: Psalm 23 says a psalm of David, Psalm 81 has instructions for the musicians-to the leader: according to The Gittith, Psalm 120-134  are marked Songs of Ascent – meaning they were sung by pilgrims on the way up to the Temple in Jerusalem.
The superscription for Psalm 16 is: A Miktam of David.  Psalm 56-60 are also ‘miktams’ of David. These six Psalms are the only time the word ‘miktam’ is used in the Bible.

There is a lot of scholarship and disagreement about the meaning of the word, mitkam. Trying to figure it out, one looks at possible root words that are similar. One considers the time the Psalms were written and what influences the people and their language were under; where the word might be borrowed from.
A plausible meaning for ‘mitkam’ is an epigraph, something that is inscribed, written down in order to be made permanent.  It is connected to roots that mean to remember, to recollect.
It is also connected to an ancient word for gold, and for a thing that covers – perhaps a cover of gold, a precious covering.  Put all this together.  Psalm 16 is a song to inscribe on our hearts and in our minds, words -wisdom- to cover us in a time when we need healing; hope; and resurrection.

You show me the path of life. In your presence there is fullness of joy; In your right hand are pleasures forevermore.
There is something in the words. There is wisdom there.  The Psalmist David knew. Peter knew. There is power in the words of the Psalm.  There is Mystery ready to break from the tomb and move forward for the healing of the world.
Be covered with the words of Psalm 16, reflect on the ones that sit most intimately with you, and once we break from our time behind locked doors, may we -like Peter- have the words to preach the Good News; Easter resurrection; Easter joy.