First Protestant Church in Upper Canada – Mohawk Chapel 1785 Brantford Ontario Six Nations
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Author Archives: raspberryman
House of Pain
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LutherHostel2012 visited the first residential school in Canada – Mohawk Institute – from 1831-1970 situated at Woodland Cultural Centre on Six Nations Reserve in Brantford Ontario. We continue to pray for truth and reconciliation, and courageous leadership among and with First Nations. We confess our sins, and we commit to telling the story for all to know what really happened.
Re-invisioning ekklesia
Parker Palmer decades ago described the true church as a
company of strangers
He announced this in a culture, to this day, that views the church more as an assembly of like-minded individuals.
In re-envisioning what it means to be the church Karen Bloomquist, keynote speaker at this year’s Luther Hostel at Waterloo Lutheran Seminary, challenged leaders to embrace the inherent diversity of the church as
the gospel happening in the world
The point of departure for church leaders is not what happens in the church but what happens out there in the world God so loved. The church today is called to be there at the margins with those who are different from ‘us’. And then be transformed by those who are different from us.
The church is not a refuge from the world. We don’t retreat into the church to withdraw from the world. Conversely, the church goes out to engage the world. The original Greek term for the church, ekklesia, means
a people called out
The church’s true purpose gets lived out in the world not apart from it. When we value our differences and the diversity in the world and in the church, we become not a melting pot of sameness but a holy company of strangers.
Being Together AND Separate – Holy Trinity B
My father was getting frustrated with me. And I was getting frustrated with my father. We were trying to explain to each other how to drive stick shift. I was sixteen and just got my license. I wanted to learn how to drive a standard transmission because my Dad had a cool, sporty looking VW sitting in the driveway.
The mutual explanations were literally driving us crazy. The words, interpretations, hand and foot demonstrations were getting us to a bad place in our relationship.
Finally, I had enough. I stomped out to the car, somehow managed to get it on the street in front of our house, and just did it. The only way I was going to learn was to do it. To try. To make mistakes, for sure. But experiencing the manual transmission what with the clutch-work and shifting was the only way I was going to learn. Not by talking about it till we were red in the face.
Living with my parents most days now as we wait to sell our house in Petawawa brings back many memories of growing up and learning new things in my youth.
Today is Trinity Sunday. I congratulate you for having the courage to come to church on Trinity Sunday. Because preachers are usually anxious about what to teach about the Holy Trinity; this is not an easy topic to explain.
Boiled down: We worship a God who self-discloses as three persons in one God. Beyond saying this, I believe we would be lost and get frustrated if all we did was acknowledge the Trinity as we do each time we confess our faith using the words of one of the traditional Creeds of Christianity. If left only to doctrinal abstractions and statements of belief, we would go in circles and play mind games with one another. Our questions could keep us perpetually stuck.
At some point the only thing left to do is just experience God. The Trinity exposes if anything the nature and function of our relational God. In other words the only way to learn about God is to enter into a relationship with God. To quote Henri Nouwen, “life [and God, I would add] is not a problem to be solved but a mystery to be entered into.” (From his book Seeds of Hope in the chapter on “Presence and Absence”)
And what do we learn about this God we experience? Well, let’s begin by characterizing the way God self-relates and by implication how Christians are called upon to relate with one another.
For starters: We are not God and God is not us. There is this basic differentiation. I think life experiences teach us that no matter how hard we try or how far we progress or how good our technology or knowledge increases – we are not nor never can be God. There is a limit to our humanity. There are boundaries to be respected. To deny this is foolish. God is quite simply, beyond anything we humans on earth can ever be or imagine.
While the distinction is firm, that does not mean God is not in us, with us, around us in the fabric of creation. Using hefty theological language: God is immanent as well as transcendent. Our life reveals this both/and aspect of relationship with God. It IS a mystery to be entered, not solved nor explained with words alone.
The Trinity challenges us to be together while also being separate.
For example, I have related all my life with an identical twin brother – David. David and I have had to work very hard, especially in our youth, asserting our differences more so than our similarities. At one point our friends seemed to get the “how-similar-we-were” part more than our individualities.
I think in loving relationships, like marriage, we get the “together” part well. And certainly in healthy marriages there needs to be that sense of emotional connection and a desire to be together – to be sure.
But how do healthy relationships also exhibit a separateness, which is equally important? And Godly. Let there be spaces in our togetherness. Don’t blur relational boundaries. Don’t become enmeshed with another so much that individualities are denied, ignored, suppressed. Kahlil Gibran, who wrote the book “The Prophet”, is often quoted at weddings. He wrote this famous poem On Marriage:
Let there be spaces in your togetherness /And let the winds of the heavens dance between you … /Love one another but make not a [smothering] of love; /Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls … /Stand together yet not too near together …
By respecting our separateness we discover our unity. Unity is paradoxical. Because only by accepting our inherent diversity will we truly be able to celebrate our unity in the triune God. We sometimes, I think, assume that for the church to be unified we need to conform one to another. We have to be same-minded. We need to be uniform and march together in lock-step to the same tune on all doctrinal and liturgical issues.
But our differences are as important if not more in experiencing organizational health. Our unity is strengthened in Christ Jesus when, like a body, the parts are free to function as they are meant and not coerced or forced into some conforming imposition.
The one aspect of the famous David and Goliath story from the bible I love occurs when King Saul expects that the only way little shepherd boy David can defeat the giant Philistine warrior is by putting on all the armor trappings of a typical Israelite soldier. But David, thankfully, is able to recognize his own giftedness and shed the uniform and use the simple gifts given to him – some stones and a sling.
Healthy, relational love is not expressed just in warm fuzzies/feel good, go-along-to-get-along ways. But also needed is some tough love; that is, asserting one’s own wants and needs even if it might upset someone else that you love and care for.
When emotional distance is established in any relationship, when clarifying your stance, taking a stand, taking responsibility for your needs flavors the nature of the relationship, there will be health and healing. Thank God Martin Luther had the guts to stand up over 500 years ago and clarify his stance when he said, “Here I stand.” Those three words set a religious world in motion for centuries to come.
I quoted Dutch priest Henri Nouwen at the beginning of my sermon; Henri Nouwen lived a large portion of his life as pastor caring for the intelligently disabled people at L’Arche Daybreak Community inTorontosome decades ago. He wrote several books about the Christian life, spirituality and ministry before dying in the mid-90’s. He has been, for me, a mentor through his written word.
He writes often about the importance of a balance between a ministry of presence AND absence. While being present constitutes much of pastoral care work, he argues for the importance of also being absent. In other words, not always being with, but being apart from the one for whom you care.
God entered into intimacy with us not only by Christ’s coming but also by his leaving – in his dying an earthly death, in the ascension. In fact, the Gospels show that on the Cross where God’s absence was most loudly expressed by Jesus when he cried, “My God, My God, why have you deserted me…” (Psalm 22:1-15) God’s presence was then most profoundly revealed. When God through the humanity of Jesus freely chose to share our most painful experience of divine absence, then God became most present to us, in the Spirit our Comforter. Without a separateness in the relationship, we would not know God’s profound presence.
Thank God for the Trinity! In relating to a triune God we learn first hand in our life’s experience what it means in relationship to be both together and separate in holy love.
Amen.
Day of Pentecost B – Catching Fire
I heard of a fire that destroyed a century-old home. Thankfully no one was physically injured. Firefighters and inspectors had a difficult time finding the cause of the fire. Until they discovered the south side of the house had beveled stained glass windows, and that on the day of the fire the sun had shone brilliantly.
By reconstructing the scene they were able to determine that the angle of the sun’s rays had shone through a part of the glass that had concentrated the light in such a way as to start a fire on some papers in the house. The sun’s rays were concentrated through the glass with increased and incredible energy and power to start a fire.
Who would have known that the sun’s rays could release such power, properly channeled?
On this Day of Pentecost we recall how God came to the disciples as a flame as fire upon their heads. Pentecost calls us to catch fire with God’s power, God’s love.
How do we do that? Try harder? It seems to me when families, marriages, organizations and churches start spinning their wheels with all the effort of trying this, trying that, as if the solution is only trying harder ….
What about starting with just being ourselves, which can be a far greater challenge.
“Catching Fire” the title of the 2nd in the series of “Hunger Games” books by Suzanne Collins. “Fire” is the symbol for the main character, Katnis Everdeen, as she survives all the threats to her safety and the safety of those whom she loves. She accomplishes incredible feats of victory in the deathly Games not by trying to be someone she is not and just “playing it safe”. Yes she takes risks and sacrifices herself for the well-being of those she loves. But she does not succumb to what the evil “Capital” wants her to be. She is herself. And her best friends are those who encourage her to be herself.
The symbol of fire conveys truth. Getting at the truth of something or someone. Burning something down to what is essential. Truth-telling, in love. We often associate fire with love, passion, a healthy marriage, right? But healthy couples have the ability to tell the truth about each other, to each other, about each other – in love. And this is not always easy:
Being honest about who we are. Those who work with youth in the wider church and community state time and time again that young people are not looking for a perfect church, but an honest church. We need to be honest with ourselves, individually and collectively. Even when it comes to our weaknesses, our faults. We don’t need to be perfect. Just faithful. Let’s start by just being honest with ourselves.
On your way into the building this morning did you notice the logo on our church sign? A flame. That is great! Faith is faith when it’s the only thing you’re hanging onto in life. Faith is faith when we are forward moving with conviction and grace in the rough and tumble of it all, even at the prospect of our death.
Indeed, death we must all face. And tens of thousands of years ago archeology shows humans associated fire with funerals. There is evidence of torches at the grave sites. The word, funeral, derives from the Latin “funus” or “funeralis” which means torch or torchlight procession. The passion of life – the fire of living – is never snuffed out for people of faith. Not even death can extinguish us. So what do we have to lose?
In an article written to the “Canada Lutheran” magazine last summer (Vol.26,No.6,p.31), Bishop Michael Pryse of the Eastern Synod – Evangelical Lutheran Church in Canada relates what someone once suggested to him: “Life is not just a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming, ‘Wow, what a ride!’ That’s the kind of spirit,” concludes Bishop Pryse, “I’d like to see more of in our churches.”
We heard in the Psalm for today: “Yonder is the great and wide sea … there move the ships” (Psalm 104). A wise person (anon.) once wrote: “The safest place for ships is in the harbour. But that’s not why they were built.” Imagine the church as a boat, a ship. Where’s our boat? Is it continuously in the safety of the harbour? Or are we willing to venture out on the open seas where storms and unknown peril may await?
Usually when we think of expressions of power in relational systems – marriages, churches, organizations, teams – we think of inequality, distances, un-involvement by those who have power. Sometimes those who hold power seem somewhat removed from our reality.
But the good news is that God’s Spirit goes with us. In Romans 8 Saint Paul describes the Spirit of Truth of which Jesus speaks in the Gospel (John 15), a Spirit who travails with us. The Spirit that comes, though a tempest and a whirlwind, does not remain removed, distant, disinterested and disembodied from our risk-taking, our suffering and pain. The Spirit co-groans with us. God feels with us and suffers alongside us. Our honesty signals openness in our hearts. And that openness is always an invitation for that Spirit of love and grace to wash over us and be with us in our struggles.
I read a comforting word from author and Jesuit priest, James Martin, who tweeted this week, “If you are despairing, remember – Christ conquered death. All will be well in the end. And if it’s not well yet, it’s not the end.” Expectant waiting. Hope. A gift of the Spirit is patience. Not to give up.
Sarah Hughes, the only athlete ever to win medals in both Summer and Winter Olympics, was interviewed on CBC last week. She confessed that her many failures and defeats were more instrumental in her growth and development than her medal wins. For example, she mentioned her staggering losses at the Sydney Olympics several years ago when she didn’t win anything. These experiences taught her the value of not giving up and set the stage for her subsequent successes.
We can persevere because God has gone before us.
God bless us on our journey. May the fire of God’s love and Spirit empower us to ventures yet unknown.
Amen.
Easter 7B – Christian Unity, in the End
JOHN 17
When they were younger my children used to watch a children’s cartoon entitled “Busytown Mysteries” aired on CBC TV. It’s about these animal cartoon characters – among them a giraffe, a mouse, a pig – who are friends, and are called upon to solve mysteries in their town.
In one episode the bunch of sleuths were called upon to solve a rather peculiar mystery: A pair of ski-tracks in the snow followed an inexplicable course down the mountain – the pair of tracks circumvented a giant boulder, but one track on either side of the rock! Then, the pair of tracks travelled together, side-by-side through a hollowed-out, low-lying log. Who, or what, could have made those tracks? And how?
A tall-legged giraffe could have gone over the boulder easily enough, but how then could it have gone through the log? A mouse could have gotten through the log, but what about the tall boulder? The evidence didn’t add up. Not until the sleuths changed their assumptions – saw the problem through a different perspective altogether, was the mystery solved.
You see, they had assumed the skier was by themselves – one person. Everything made sense when they discovered that in fact there were two mice who were not skiing, but snow-boarding beside each other down the hill. The truth was revealed after they assumed the maker of those tracks was not alone.
Jesus, before he went to his suffering and death, prayed to his God, the Father. And he prayed that his followers on earth “might be one.” In other words, he didn’t want them to be alone – isolated, competing, independent individuals. He prayed for their unity. He prayed that harmony, cooperation, mutuality and collaboration would characterize the Church on earth.
But sometimes the evidence just does not add up. What we see on the surface is the opposite: We see division. And we can’t always and easily explain the “mystical”, invisible, spiritual union we claim we have whenever we celebrate the sacrament of unity during Holy Communion.
At the same time I suspect we would have a hard time making Christian unity a central aspect of our witness to the world, a world that dwells only it seems, on the schisms, controversies and in-fighting in Christianity.
How is this unity experienced in reality? Are we willing to change some of our pre-conceived assumptions about how the world works and how the church works? Like the Busytown buddies, would we be willing to solve the mystery by realizing unity means we are not alone in this world? How can we celebrate our unity “on the ground in our daily lives when the world wants to tell us we are on our own, competing, survival-of-the-fittest?
Or, do we even care? Are we satisfied and comfortable to remain entrenched and cocooned in our defensive posture?
Paul MacLean, highly esteemed and successful rookie head coach of the Ottawa Senators said after the Sens were eliminated from the playoffs a few weeks ago, “You win a Stanley Cup not by defending; you win a Stanley Cup by scoring goals.” How can our “offence” become our best “defence”? In other words, how being united in Christ become our best “offence” in the world bent on rugged individualism?
We advance Christian unity when the world sees that we care for one another in our weaknesses. In verse 11 of John 17 Jesus prays, “Holy Father, protect them … so that they may be one as we are one.” Jesus’ prayer for unity among his followers is linked to God’s protection and provision.
Now, the translation from Greek to the word, “protect”, may make us feel like God needs to protect us from all that is bad and evil and scary in the world – as is the case, literally, at the end of the passage (v.15) when Jesus in fact does pray for this.
But in verse 11 when unity is at stake, the Greek word for “protect” – tereo – carries overtones of “pay attention” to one another, or “attend to carefully”, or “take care of”, in the same way parents care for their children.
The truth is, we can’t do mission in the world effectively if we’re always fighting each other. But when the world sees how Christians care for one another in their needs – how a community of faith supports each other in the work of the Gospel – this leads to enhanced Christian unity.
Continuing the hockey analogy, this is called “puck support”; it’s not about only the star player going in to score, it’s about everyone “supporting” one another in moving the puck forward. It was only when Alex Ovechkin had less ice-time in the latter part of this season that the Washington Capitals experienced greater success as a team. When the level of play increases for all the players can the team be at its best.
God cares for us and will provide for our every need, no matter the circumstances of our lives. No matter how dire or conflicted or heavy the burdens of our lives and the challenges we face, listen to the promise of God, here: God will care for us. God will give us what we need to endure, to live, to prosper.
How did God the Father care for Jesus? How did God the Father care for Jesus? Even though Jesus endured suffering and brutal death on the cross, the Father held Christ through that terrible experience of death and brought him to new life and resurrection.
Resurrection is the end-game, the destination of all we experience. Not death. The power of death has no strangle-hold on our life, in Christ. Because baptized into the Body of Christ we know that nothing will separate us from the care, the love of God.
And God continues to care and protect us. We can therefore live confidently, caring for one another. We can live confidently and compassionately for others through it all, showing the world that in Christ we are united as we care for one another and the world that God so loved.
On one level our unity is a mystery, like the experience of Christ’s real and true presence in the Sacrament. But on another level, Christian unity is not a mystery. It is rock-solid, visible truth. We are not alone. We are not by ourselves on the journey. Just look around you. What unites us is greater than whatever may divide us.
Whenever we notice in another their unique gift and presence in the community – and tell them! – with a kind, generous and encouraging word, we affirm that what unites us is greater than whatever may divide us.
Whenever we work shoulder to shoulder in any outreach to the community as, for example, we will next week in the book sale & community BBQ for supporting LAMP, we affirm that what unites us is greater than whatever may divide us.
Whenever we pray together, reflect on scripture together, and celebrate the Holy Meal together, we affirm that what unites us is greater than whatever may divide us.
Whenever we visit with one another and care for one another in the love and light of Christ Jesus within us, we affirm that what unites us is greater than whatever may divide us.
The living Lord Jesus, the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end.
Amen.
Beyond Words? Who, then, Shall Lead Them?
“No one was able to give Jesus an answer” (Matthew 22:46a).
The Pharisees are stumped again! The conversation with Jesus ends in silence. No one will dare ask him any more questions. When it comes to the big question of faith, words are not enough.
A prayer I often offer during worship at funerals is, “that we do not try to minimize our loss or seek refuge from it in words alone.” Indeed, words cannot do justice to our life and death. Have we stood with someone in grief and did not know what to say? I think we are often too hard on ourselves. Is the problem that we do not have the right words? Or, rather are we not aware of the value of being with another in silent love?
When called by God both Jeremiah and Moses protest, claiming that they “cannot speak”. Some have interpreted this as evidence that these famous prophets toiled under some kind of speech defect. I was surprised to find that in the development of early Christianity in Russia, stuttering was considered a sign of a true prophet. Then again, Dietrich Bonhoeffer argued that the priority of God’s witness is found in human weakness (Eberhard Bethge, “Dietrich Bonhoeffer”, New York: Harper & Row, 1985, p.374).
“Preach the Gospel always,” goes the proverb, “use words if necessary.”
Over time I am learning the value of non-verbal communication in getting a message across — my body-language, behavior, touch, presence and attitude.
Because faith is simply beyond words.
Have a little faith!
The first thing is not to give up, and keep moving forward, even though it’s tough. When W.H. Murray led the famous Scottish Expedition to climb Mount Everest in the 1950s, he reflected afterward with his oft quoted piece of wisdom: “In the moment a commitment is made, then Providence moves too.” In other words, when you commit to doing something aware of all that is good in you and the world – even if it’s risky, scary – God goes with you and necessary resources are provided.
We don’t do reckless things and twist God’s arm into action; rather, when we are bold it’s like dropping a pebble into the sea of God’s grace: The ripples move outward creating more space for God’s grace to envelope, enfold and hold.
Take the risk. Make the commitment to a discipline of prayer, of study, of holy reading, of loving service – in a way that pushes you a bit out of your comfort zone, your routines, your familiar ways of being and doing: push the envelope. And don’t give up. You may be surprised by what God is doing for you!
Christian Meditation – A Social Discipline
Christian Meditation is not isolationist. It is not Quietism.
To meditate is ultimately a social act.
Fr. Laurence Freeman, who will be invested with his Order of Canada on May 24, 2012 in Ottawa, defined prayer as an “encounter”. Encountering means meeting another person. The social sciences theorize that we discover ourselves in context of others. We cannot be ourselves without another.
How true, in Christian Meditation.
In the last century another Canadian, Benedictine Fr. John Main, rediscovered and brought a fresh, contemporary voice to Christian Meditation. He described the process of Christian Meditation as forming a “community of love”.
This is at the heart of Christian doctrine. The Trinity, describing God, is inherently and essentially a divine relationship. God self-defines in relationship: Father, Son, Holy Spirit. Outside of relationship, God is not God. In meditation we are not alone, even though we do it on our own.
What is our “true self”? It is our “inner self”. Once there, we relate to one another not out of surface compulsions and reactions of anger, fear, anxiety, or guilt. Instead, we relate to one another, true self to true self, inner self to inner self. As someone once said, “the Christ in me” relates to “the Christ in you.” The great church reformer, Martin Luther, in the 16th century wrote that each of us is a “little Christ”.
Christian Meditation is like entering the top, wide opening of an hour glass. As we continue faithfully in the silence, stillness and simplicity of prayer we arrive at the deepest, truest point of our being in the living God. At the center of the hour glass, in the deepest place in our heart, we find Christ who finds us in love and whose presence resides within always, even when we are not aware.
But this prayer then leads us out of ourselves. The direction of flow is again to the wide, openness of the world beyond our individuality.
But something has changed. We are transformed in prayer. We now see others and the world around us with compassion and the love of Christ which first found us.
Christian Meditation leads us to act. Being before acting. Contemplation and social justice then function together.
Easter 3B – Farewell along the Caravan
So much has changed over the past 10 years. When I think back to how things were at Zion in late 2001, to how things are in early 2012 – indeed a lot has changed!
Amid the continually changing realities of life, I have found comfort and hope in a prayer – popular among Lutherans – from Evening Prayer in the old, green book (yes, 10 years ago we had those LBWs in our pews!) – it goes like this:
Lord God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths yet untrodden, through perils unknown. Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us, through Christ our Lord. Amen.
It is a beloved prayer. Christ indeed goes with us.
But do we go “by paths as yet untrodden”? Yes, in the sense that each of us experiences the journey uniquely; and yes, we can’t know exactly how we will experience that journey with sadness or with joy, or any and all of the emotions in-between.
Does our reaction to change, I wonder, come from a false belief about the nature of the journey itself? Do we not assume that in moving forward we go, as Captain Kirk said at the beginning of each Star Trek TV episode decades ago – “to go where no man [or woman] has gone before”?
Admittedly, the journey of life and faith for us carries a “frontier” mentality. We live and work in North America, after all. We are pioneers – this is our history! – clearing bush for the first time, forging paths never before trodden through the wilderness. And more often than not we are blazing this new path on our own. It’s up to us.
No wonder we are afraid. No wonder we shrink in our seats and cower from any prospect of change. Because if it means we must go it alone into paths as yet untrodden like stepping into a void, into oblivion …..
Where does faith come into it? The wisdom writer said it poetically and truthfully:
“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven … God has made everything suitable for its time; moreover, he has put a sense of past and future into their minds” (Eccl 3:1,11).
How can we cope with this dual reality of both/and – both the past AND future, both being present AND embracing change? Is this even possible?
It is, I believe, when we REconsider our image for the journey. Not so much a “blazing a new path by ourselves”; not so much a “pioneering / frontier” mentality where WE create the path…
…. But rather, going where a path has already been travelled; we are on a caravan journey.
What does the caravan journey look like? It is a pathway through the wilderness, to be sure. As one plods along its winding route, we follow the tracks of the carts and wagons etched into the roadway; therefore we know others have come this way before us. We know others will follow sometime soon behind us. It is a road dotted by intermittent markers along the way, directing its travellers. Finally, it is folly to travel alone, by oneself; one always journeys the caravan route together with others for mutual support, consolation and protection along the way.
We do not create the path. We are travellers along God’s caravan route through time and place. Someone besides us has forged the path through the desert. It is therefore a route already trodden by the saints before us. Wherever it leads we can be assured that Jesus Christ has travelled the route and beckons us forward to follow.
Today, both past and future converge in the present. On the caravan every moment of the journey is both an ending and a beginning. Every moment that begins something new also means something is ending. When something comes to an end, something new begins.
In my installation service in the Fall of 2001, you presented me, ritually, with the lectern Bible, water for baptism, elements for the Sacrament of the Altar – all symbols that define the unique role of a pastor. This ritual of giving me the “supplies” for the journey enabled me to perform my duties as Co-Pastor.
Today is a marker on that journey. Today marks an ending. We have to bring a relationship to a close. We have to say goodbye. The kind of relationship I have enjoyed with you changes from this point forward.
We mark this time of ending, too, with ritual. Today I read the Gospel; Today I make the sign of the cross using baptismal water; Today I hold the blessed Sacrament.
Yet God is helping us in this moment of ending. God is helping us envision the new beginning. I find great comfort in this image of “caravan” describing the movement forward in life and faith. Even as a pastor now taking leaving of Zion congregation after ten years of service:
- We are assured that the Gospel will continue to be read and received in this place
- We are assured that the Holy Communion will continue to be celebrated at this altar
- We are assured that the waters will continue to be stirred in the font of baptism right here, in this place – of this I am certain and grateful.
- You will still sing the hymns, pray together and enjoy one another’s company
Remember, the path ahead has already been forged. We go not alone, but together, on a path already trodden by Christ Jesus and all the saints in light.
But does God care for us on this caravan route God knows all too well? Now that Jesus is alive and sitting at the right hand of the Father in heaven? You might think that the resurrection Jesus would not really care about earthly, human need anymore; you’d think the resurrected Jesus would ‘get outa Dodge’ for the trouble he endured while on earth and especially during his Passion and death.
The last chapter in the Gospel of Luke helps us, I believe, to understand at least a couple of “rules of the road” in believing the truth about our journey of life and faith:
- Jesus appears to his disciples after the resurrection and asks for something to eat. The Gospel writer is specific in mentioning it is broiled fish that Jesus eats in their presence (v.41-43). Why is that? Jesus DOES care for our journey, eats with us, is concerned about our blistered, dusty feet, our tears, sweat, joys and sorrows. He cares so much for every detail of our humanity that he STILL comes back in resurrected form and engages our human, physical, metabolic state to eat and digest real food. To this day, Jesus is willing to go there, to those places on the caravan route that reflect our own human need. He’s knows this route intimately. He’s not some removed, disembodied, disconnected, disinterested deity up there somewhere. He’s right here with us, today – in the Sacrament, in our fellowship of love.
- Jesus sends his disciples out on the journey to all nations (v.47). It is not a caravan that goes in circles around Jerusalem; rather, the route winds itself around the whole world! The Greek word for church is “ekklesia”; literally it translates – “a people called out”. Yes, the momentum of Christianity is centrifugal – the journey is an ever-expanding mission towards the places where Jesus will be. The Story is greater than you or me; it calls us beyond ourselves to go where Jesus beckons.
When asked about his success, Wayne Gretzky once said, “I skate to where the puck is going, not to where it has been.” He explains why – and you have to imagine the fast-paced ebb-and-flow of the hockey game: Gretzky says, “Skating toward where the puck IS will always guarantee your arrival at a place where the puck HAS BEEN” – and that’s no good! By following the caravan route, it is possible to discover where the risen Jesus is going in our world and not just keep going back to the empty tomb. To be able to arrive with a caravan of Christ followers at a place where he has promised to meet us is the joy of Christian discipleship. As a popular American preacher wrote, “Vision is not about looking in tombs for a risen Jesus. It is about listening to where he says he is going to meet us and striking out for it.”
Our ways part today. But no matter where on that route we find ourselves, we are all still on the way. As we strike out in the Caravan, let us be blessed for the journey.
As a child I remember at the start of a long road trip my parents led us in brief prayer in the car. So, translated from the German blessing I gave a few weeks ago at the conclusion of the Good Friday German language service here at Zion, here is a blessing for us as we continue beyond today on our separate ways:
The Lord go before you, to show you the way.
The Lord go beside you, to hold you and protect you.
The Lord go behind you, to keep you safe from all harm.
The Lord go beneath you, to catch you when you fall,
and show you the way up.
The Lord be within you, to comfort you when you’re sad.
The Lord be around you to guard you from attack.
The Lord be above you
To give you grace.
Such is the blessing of our God.
Amen.
“Lord Jesus, You Shall Be My Song” EvLW#808
Raspberryman 