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:

  1. 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.
  2. 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

Easter 2B – Peter the Rock & Thomas the Questioner

… when youth are affirming their faith ….

The Holy Gospel according to John, the 20th chapter.

C: Glory to you, O Lord.

19 When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’20After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.21Jesus said to them again, ‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.’22When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.23If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.’

24 But Thomas (who was called the Twin*), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came.25So the other disciples told him, ‘We have seen the Lord.’ But he said to them, ‘Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.’

26 A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’27Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.’

……

 THOMAS: Whoa! Where am I?

PETER: You’re safe, Thomas. You’re just in a different time and place.

THOMAS: What??!!! Last thing I remember is standing before Jesus.

PETER: Yes, and you were doubting.

THOMAS: Yeah, but he can’t be alive. How is that even possible? We saw him die on the cross; we saw him buried in the tomb!

PETER: Our Lord had just asked you to do something ….

THOMAS: (looking at his palms and stomach) … touch the nail scars on his hands and see the wound in his side. Yeah, I remember. (looking around) But, where is he? What IS this place?

PETER: Can you believe the power of our God? He has sent us thousands of years into the future to this place called (looking down on the divine handbook): “Zi-on Lu-ther-an Church” in a city called “Pe-mbroke”.

THOMAS: Oooohhh-kay. (looking at the confirmands). The only normally-dressed people are these youngsters. I like your gowns; oh, sorry, aren’t they supposed to be called something else? So, they are being baptized! Where’s the river?

PETER: The river …. (looking at the handbook) is called the “O-tta-wa”. But I’m told these followers of Christ baptize at this thing called a “font”.

THOMAS: How can anyone get in that? Oh, I forgot … is that a magic trick, too? They get real’ tiny …. (snickers)

PETER: It’s not magic, Thomas. Like the resurrection of Jesus. God’s power to do all things is real. It’s not an illusion. It’s not pretend. I suppose we can’t ever really understand it because we’re not God.

THOMAS: Hold on a sec. Did you say these people here are followers of Christ?????!!!!!

PETER: Yes.

THOMAS: So, where IS Jesus, if he’s alive?

PETER: He’s here alright.

THOMAS: You mean we are thousands of years into the future, and these people have never actually SEEN Jesus with their own eyes …

PETER: … and yet they believe. Yes, Thomas.

THOMAS: What do you mean: “He’s here alright”?

PETER: When you saw Jesus standing before you, he was already partly in heaven. After he left us, he promised the Holy Spirit.

THOMAS: The “Holy Spirit”?

PETER: The Holy Spirit is God, too. Just like God the Son, and God the Father.

THOMAS: So, the reason these folks believe in God is because the Holy Spirit is here.

PETER: Basically.

THOMAS: But, then, where is the Holy Spirit? Same problem: if I can’t see with my own eyes and touch with my own hands, it’s not true.

PETER: Yes, yes. I’ve heard that from you before. Tell me, Thomas: do you have a brain?

THOMAS: uh … yeah!

PETER: I know you have a brain. You know you have a brain. But can you see it? Can you touch it?

THOMAS: No. Wouldn’t want to do that.

PETER: So, you won’t touch it or look at it with your own eyes?

THOMAS: No way!

PETER: Therefore, you don’t have a brain!

THOMAS: Okay. Okay. I get the point. Hmmmm. (scratches his chin, folds his arms across his chest, thinking) These people have never physically seen Jesus. Thousands of years …. Still believe? How is this possible?

PETER: Someone coming after us – Saul is his name, then later Paul – will write: “All things are possible with God”

THOMAS: Wow! I can’t believe this! (to the confirmands) Do you believe EVERYTHING about God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit? … Do you ever DOUBT the existence of God? If so, why are you even here??!!!

PETER: Now, now, Thomas. Let’s not discourage them! This Paul also wrote that true faith is in things NOT seen, in what is HOPED for.

THOMAS: But how can anyone’s faith be so perfect?

PETER: That’s not why these young people are here today, saying “yes” to God and to their baptism in Jesus. They’re not here because they understand everything about God PERFECTLY.

THOMAS: You mean it’s okay to doubt God sometimes?

PETER: Let’s put it this way, Thomas: if you never knew fear, if you were never afraid, how could you know courage and joy? If you never lost anything or anyone precious to you, if you never knew how it felt to be lonely and sad, how could you know what it means to love? If you never doubted, never knew what it felt like to doubt and question, how could you know faith and hope?

THOMAS: Okay, again – I get the point. What you’re saying is that to be faithful and true to Jesus, doubting and questioning is an important part of following Jesus.

PETER: If you never doubted the resurrection of Jesus, we wouldn’t be here today experiencing yet another miracle of God!

THOMAS: (sigh)

PETER: God the Father gave me an important job after Jesus left us to go to heaven. He called me the “rock”. And the church would be built on what I could do to bring people together in faith for future generations.

THOMAS: Whoa! That’s a lot of pressure. (somewhat sarcastically) I stand in the presence of greatness! (bowing)

PETER: Not so quickly! I don’t know if you heard of this, but before Jesus went before the high priests the night he was arrested, I followed him to the compound where the soldiers kept him.

THOMAS: I’ve heard rumors …. What happened?

PETER: As I was warming myself by the fire, a couple of people asked me if I knew Jesus.

THOMAS: And?

PETER: I denied him. I told them all I had no idea whom they were talking about.

THOMAS: Oh.

PETER: Not once. But three times.

THOMAS: You were trying to protect yourself. You were being smart.

PETER: Maybe. But then the rooster crowed. And Jesus could see me from the courtyard. Our eyes met. And at that moment, I realized how weak my faith actually was.

THOMAS: What did you do?

PETER: I felt so badly. I couldn’t face him. I ran home and cried all night. I really doubted myself after that. I questioned not only my faith in Jesus, but myself.

THOMAS: Hey, you’re really no different from me ….

PETER: … And everyone here in this room today!

THOMAS: I guess if your faith isn’t perfect, whose can be!?

PETER: That’s not the point, though, Thomas. I think the fact that Jesus asked me to be the head of the church shows that God doesn’t call perfect people. Rather, God equips and calls people who recognize their own weaknesses, doubts and imperfections and who are willing to confess and be honest about that. And still turn to Jesus.

THOMAS: Hmmm. Maybe Jesus has plans for me, too, then, eh? I wonder what he’d want me to do? …..

PETER: Did you just say, “eh”?

THOMAS: Why?

PETER: Apparently, according to this divine handbook, that’s what they say a lot here in this country called “Ca-na-da”. (looks over the top of his glasses at Thomas inquisitively) Are you sure you haven’t spent some time here before?

THOMAS: (smiles) Let’s just say the Lord and I have already been on a journey together.

PETER: That’s good. Let’s hope and pray these young people will also continue on that journey with the Lord after today. What about you, Thomas? What will you do when we go back to the upper room to meet Jesus?

THOMAS: Well, I’ll be honest. I WILL put my hands in his wounds. But I think I already know Jesus is alive and will always be with me, even if I don’t ever see him with my own eyes ever again after that.

PETER: Let’s go. Goodbye everyone! Live the faith!

….

28Thomas answered him, ‘My Lord and my God!’29Jesus said to him, ‘Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.’

30 Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book.31But these are written so that you may come to believe* that Jesus is the Messiah,* the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.

The Gospel of our Lord.

C: Praise to you, O Christ.

Easter Day – the Light of the World

“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lamp stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:14-16)

This is a verse that is often read at baptisms. It is also sometimes a chosen Confirmation verse: “Let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.”

These words come from Jesus’ “Sermon on the Mount” – the foundation of his teaching to the disciples and all who would follow him; these words are as pertinent to post-resurrection Christians as they were to those first followers of Christ on the side of that mountain in Galilee in the 1st century.

YOU are the light of the world. Did you catch that? YOU! This is repeated in The Gospel of John when Jesus says we “have the light” (12:36). Curious. Earlier in the Gospel of John we read that JESUS has come as the light of the world (John 1:9).

But then the light-resposibility shifts it to us. According to Jesus, WE are now the light of the world, and we will perform even greater works than Jesus himself (John 14:12)! That is quite extraordinary, especially considering the miracles that Jesus performed.

Without going so far as to equate us with God, the scriptures come very close to doing so. Psalm 8 identifies us humans as created just a “little lower than God” (v.5).

On Easter morning, the Church affirms that BECAUSE of the resurrection of Jesus, because Jesus is alive, because Jesus lives and isn’t dead anymore – we now have the light and life of Jesus in our lives.

So what holds us back? Why do we time and time again have trouble living out of that truth, that joy, that glory, that energy, that belief so central to Christianity? Why do we have trouble believing the gift within us as a faithful expression of our belief in the risen Lord? Why do we so instinctually confine the Spirit of God?

Do we want to be free? Are we afraid of being great? Is it the fear of that light?

Some more words of wisdom we have discussed in preparing for Confirmation come from Marianne Williamson from her writings entitled, “Return to Love”.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?’ Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

I read about an American soldier who performed a covert operation to free hostages from a building in some dark part of the world. His team flew in by helicopter, made their way to the compound and stormed into the room where the hostages had been imprisoned for months. The room was filthy and dark. The hostages were curled up in a corner, terrified.

When the SEALs entered the room, they heard the gasps of the hostages. They stood at the door and called to the prisoners, telling them they were Americans. The SEALs asked the hostages to follow them, but the hostages wouldn’t. They sat there on the floor and hid their eyes in fear. They were not of healthy mind and didn’t believe their rescuers were really Americans.

The SEALs stood there, not knowing what to do. They couldn’t possibly carry everybody out. The soldier, though, got an idea. He put down his weapon, took off his helmet, and curled up tightly next to the other hostages, getting so close his body was touching some of theirs. He softened the look on his face and put his arms around them.

He was trying to show them he was one of them. None of the prison guards would have done this. He stayed there for a while until some of the hostages started to look at him, finally meeting his eyes. The Navy SEAL whispered that they were Americans and were there to rescue them. Will you follow us? he said. The hero stood to his feet and one of the hostages did the same, then another, until all of them were willing to go. The story ends with all the hostages safe on an American aircraft carrier. (as told by Donald Miller, “Blue Like Jazz”, Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2003, p.33-34).

The process of becoming free, of taming our fear, of taking the risk to let go of the hurt and pain in the light of God – this is not easy. There is a “refining fire” that cleanses us; but it’s not a warm, soapy bath; the cleansing is often difficult, turbulent, stormy, and challenges us to the core of our personality. We are often our own worst enemies when offered God’s freedom in Christ.

Yet the blessing, grace and freedom are just beyond the prison doors of our hearts. Jesus knocks on that door of our hearts (Revelation 3). He has already rescued us! What will we do? Will we open that door? Will we accept God’s love and God’s salvation meant for us? Notice on that famous picture there is no door handle on the outside where Jesus knocks and waits.

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.

The light shines in us. The risen Lord’s light shines brightly through our lives. The effect of this light is concentrated through our faithful witness to the power of the resurrection. And this power can start “fires” so to speak – that’s how strong the Lord lives in us! To work for justice and peace; to work for God’s mission in and from Christ’s church to the world around us; to reflect the light and love of God to those near and far.

Because of Easter, we need not let fear rule our lives; rather, because of the resurrection we are baptized into Christ’s power, and we affirm our baptisms in the kind of lives we lead. Thanks be to God! Amen.

A Vague Spirituality? Lent 3-4B

At this time of year I often daydream about standing on a beach by the ocean or Great Lake. I can feel the warm sand squish in-between my toes as the waves lap onto the shore and rush up around my ankles. I take a deep breath of the breeze coming off the water, relishing the aquatic smell. I see the wide open sky and marvel at the brilliant colour display on God’s pallet of wispy clouds and wind-scapes high above me: the dark blue hues gently transforming into bright red, orange, yellow. All this wonder surrounds the giant orb of flaming majesty relenting and finally sinking beneath the pulsing horizon.

I take it all in. I feel full and vibrant with God’s presence. Are you with me? Isn’t that worship? I often feel God in those situations: Out in nature, out in the open, and often away from people and their noise.

And yet, despite the beautiful connection with God I feel watching a sunset, something is missing. Something about God and God’s purposes are lacking here. Is this the ultimate place for Christian worship?

My feeling of wonder, yet incompleteness, in my experience of God watching a sunset alone on a beach reminds me of the Twilight Zone episode from a couple of decades ago.

The story was about a man who loved to read, and believed himself superior to his fellow human beings. He rebuffed others’ attempts to get to know him and to get him to share his rather considerable knowledge. Then one day there was a nuclear war, and this man was the last human being left alive on the earth.

Rather than being devastated about this development, he was elated, and he hurried to the nearest library. There he found the building in ruins and thousands of books scattered on the ground. In great joy, he bent over to look at the first heap of them, and dropped his glasses in the rubble. The lenses shattered. 1.

Whatever meaning you derive from the disquieting ending, one thing is obvious: This man needed someone to fix his glasses. In a moment of horror he finally realizes that he cannot indulge in his gift, his passion, without the support of others.

The Twilight Zone episode highlights the delusion of independence and self-reliance. Because no matter how hard we try to dis-engage from others, we ultimately find ourselves wanting for meaningful community.

When we talk about a community, place is significant. The Lenten journey is about being somewhere, and sometimes even moving from one place to another. The physical location of our worship is important. Where do we find ourselves in Lent? On a beach? Watching a sunset? In a room by ourselves? Isolated from one another? Do we approach our weaknesses, our losses, our pain and suffering secluded?

Solitude, silence and stillness are certainly part of the spiritual journey, necessary for our health – spiritual, physical and emotional. But ultimately, the destination of our walk with God leads us beyond the self.

For Jesus, Jerusalem was the destination. For it was in Jerusalem where he found God’s purposes for him in his Passion and death on the Cross. As we approach Holy Week with Jesus, we’re headed to “Jerusalem”. And what do we find in Jerusalem? What physical structure stands at the centre of the social, religious and even economic activity of that great city?

From the middle of John chapter 2 (v.13) to the middle of chapter 3 (v.21), the action takes place in Jerusalem. And not just anywhere in Jerusalem, but in the temple: Jesus cleanses the temple; Jesus meets Nicodemus; Jesus preaches on the steps of the temple about the love of God for the whole world.

And in the midst of that speech, Jesus describes the temple of his body. In doing so, Jesus identifies himself with a concrete, physical reality. He offers his being as a gift to those of us who long for a sense of God’s presence.

But notice here: Not in a vague, amorphous, disembodied experience. Not in a “meeting-God-in-nature” sort of way, disconnected from the real, concrete structures of human social organization.

The Christian faith is a concrete, real, social religion. In the ancient world, the temple gave a real sense of community to a people who didn’t all live in the same place, scattered around the city, and countryside of Palestine.

In the poetry of the Hebrew Scriptures we often find this image of God drawing diverse peoples from the corners of the world. In the Psalm for Lent 4B, the Lord “gathered [people] in from the lands, from the east and from the west, from the north and from the south” (Psalm 107:3; see also Isaiah 43:5-9). It is God’s work to draw people in to be together.

A vague, “meeting-God-in-nature” sort of spirituality doesn’t lead us into community. True Christian worship aims to overcome a sense of human fragmentation and isolation. We are not about a disembodied spirituality.

We are about the real, concrete presence of Jesus in bread and wine. We are about the real, concrete words of forgiveness spoken and heard in confession of sins and absolution.

As we are brought into relationship with God, we are brought into relationship with others. You can’t have one without the other. And that’s what I miss on the beach: While I indulge in moments of self-glory in the midst of God’s beautiful creation I miss something crucial to my faith – that wonderful experience means nothing if I don’t share it with someone, and if it doesn’t ultimately lead me back into my church community – to real flesh and blood.

It’s to this community where God’s Spirit draws me, where the steadfast love of God is offered and received, where God’s compassion is reflected in the lives of those who gather.

I soon leave this church community at Zion Pembroke to begin a new call serving Faith Lutheran Church in Ottawa. While the separation and distance will be real, there is also another reality we will continue to share: we still belong to the same God, and gratefully, the same church – the Eastern Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Canada. Every time we participate in the Sacrament — you, here and I, there — we will be connected in faith.

We will be in communion with one another not in a vague way, claiming some invisible, abstract unity in Christ. But I can say we belong to the same church because our congregations, in reality, are essentially the same: we share the same language, the same worship book, a similar understanding of sacramental practice and theological orientation, etc. In real, concrete ways, we still belong to the same body – the body of Christ – which is the church on earth.

Thanks be to God! Amen.

  1. The Twilight Zone episode, as recounted by Robert Moore & Douglas Gillette in King, Warrior, Magician, Lover: Rediscovering the Archetypes of the Mature Masculine, HarperSanFrancisco, 1991, p.114

A Parable of the Lenten Journey

An ancient proverb is told of a servant whose duty was to draw water from the river at dawn when it was still mostly dark, and carry a bucket-full up a winding, rocky path to the mansion where his master lived. Alas! His bucket had a crack in it. And each time he brought water up the path he lost most of it.

Curiously, the servant noticed his master standing at the door of the mansion watching him every day carry this water up the path, spilling most of it. And yet, the servant was able to see a broad, loving smile on his master’s face. Daily, the servant would drop to his knees when he reached the top. At his master’s feet the servant would express his remorse at failing to do his job, bringing only half a bucket-full of water each time he climbed the path. The master listened lovingly, invited him inside for breakfast, and encouraged him to try again the next day. Which the servant did, faithfully, for the entire season.

When the river froze over, and the last half-bucket full was brought up the path, and once again the servant expressed his shame, sorrow and regret, the master invited him inside to share in a special feast to mark the end of the season and beginning of a new one. On the table spread with the finest breads, vegetables, cheeses and meats, he found bouquets of flowers of the most wondrous varieties and colors.

The servant gasped at the heavenly sight and asked his master, “From where did you find these beautiful flowers?”

“Come, follow me,” the master said, “and see for yourself.” The master led the servant back to the front door just as the sun was rising, illuminating the pathway down to the river. And on both sides of the path the flowers were growing, able to do so because of the water that had daily leaked out from the servant’s cracked bucket.

The Church Doors Are Far Enough!

I’ve hardly ever seen him sitting in the church pew. He didn’t go there. The church door was the dividing line. That’s as far as he went.

But he came, every Sunday morning. Precisely half an hour before the start of the service, he would pull up to the doors in his white, cube van. With engine running, he ran to the church doors, and opened them just enough to reach in and take what he came for. And then he left.

On occasion I would meet him in the parking lot on my way in. “Why don’t you stay awhile, worship with us?” I asked him casually. After all, he seemed so intense with little time to waste. “No, Pastor, I’m here to get the bulletins.” And he promptly turned and sped out of the parking lot. I later learned he delivered the church bulletins to family members around town.

This was his devotion. Week in and week out. A delivery man. A messenger of the Gospel, would you say?

Simeon was an ageing man. If you needed to talk to him, you could almost always find him in the temple. There he would pray and make his regular offerings to God. You almost get the impression he so desperately wanted to meet God. And that somehow his devotion alone wasn’t quite getting him there (read Luke 2:25-33).

Until the day came that God found him. Mary and Joseph brought the Christ child to the temple, to where Simeon went. When Simeon held Jesus in his arms, he knew. It’s as if a veil was lifted. And in the epiphany of the moment, Simeon recognized Jesus for who he was — the Son of God.

In that moment, Simeon finally found what he was looking for: He had encountered the one, true God. In a real meeting between real human beings, between old man and giggling, burping, cooing infant — the holy happened. And Simeon responded in a prayer of thanksgiving, dedication and release. “Now, you can let your servant go in peace. Now, I have met my salvation ….”

I mention Simeon’s encounter with Jesus because it happened in the context of a regular devotion. His epiphany did not occur outside a discipline of faithful worship and service on his part, as unsatisfying or incomplete as it was. Simeon still went.

Today we gather to remember and give thanks for one who loved his routines, who was never late, and who faithfully came to the church doors every week. In his devotion, he was expressing his desire to connect with God.

What makes my parking lot friend’s dedication to picking up the church bulletins and delivering them to family so meaningful, is just that: He didn’t do it just for the sake of getting the bulletins; he wasn’t just taking them home and throwing them out or piling them in boxes. His devotion found purpose and made sense in maintaining his relationships with loved ones and giving them a small token of what deep down was so very important to him.

His devotion found expression in the ministry of bulletin delivery to those who mattered most in his life. And I want to affirm that on this day when we commend him to God’s eternal care, he indeed is finally encountering face-to-face the God who created him and loved him from the beginning. He meets today the God for whom he exercised faithfully his devotion while on earth.

There’s another story in the bible (John 10:23) where we see an older Jesus in the temple. But he’s not in the centre of the temple – in the Holy of Holies -where we might think he ought to be. You know, being the Almighty Son of God and all.

Instead, He is walking around the periphery of the temple (i.e. “the portico of Solomon”). Jesus spends most of his time by the doorways in and out. The Son of God is very much interested in those who come close to the temple but not all the way in. And that’s precisely where He meets my parking-lot friend who came to the doors of the church every week and meets him at the doors to heaven this very day.

That’s also the kind of place where Jesus waits for us every time we dare come close to Him.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Marriage is Made in Heaven — So is Thunder and Lightning

Please read Song of Solomon 8:6-7 and Ephesians 5:22-32

In my stocking this past Christmas Santa gave me a fridge magnet with the following printed on it: “Marriage is Made in Heaven … But so is Thunder and Lightning!”

I appreciate the positive implication of the humour: Marriage is not an idea born from a fairy tale dream of marrying a princess/prince. A healthy marriage is not approached in abstraction, but manifested in real time, in the real world, in real, honest relationships worked out “on the ground.”

And real, healthy relationships also include conflict.

Conflict can be bad, but conflict can be good too. In your vows you wrote a line that implies clearly the potential benefit of facing conflict in your marriage. I appreciate your heads-up, real approach to your marriage. You are not distorting a vision of your marriage by an idealism that denies these sometimes hard realities we all face in relationship.

If marriage and thunder and lightning come from the same place – God, then what can we say about a healthy marriage grounded in reality, not abstraction?

The scriptures you have chosen for your wedding reflect this bold, real approach to your marriage. The text from Ephesians is certainly one that causes much conversation in Christian circles. So, let’s take a brief look at this text. The critical verses in succession are 22, 25 and 31; and, in each let’s focus on the verbs therein:

22. Wives, submit yourselves to your husbands

25. Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her

31. For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two will become one flesh

From a reading of this text I gather, first, that a healthy marriage is characterized by mutuality. What is “mutuality”? Strictly defined, mutuality is demonstrated when: What you want from the other is what you give to the other. A healthy marriage reflects this dynamic. A healthy marriage is mutual when both members have something to give.

As I said, you are bold to have chosen the text from Paul’s letter from Ephesians to be read at your wedding, especially in this day and age. Often in this text we zero in on is that line where wives must “submit” to their husbands. And we presume that if a marriage will last, it’s all on the woman’s shoulders to make it work; that is, she must always submit to her husband’s whims and wishes. In this case marriage feels more like a one-way street, does it not?

But we make a mistake if we stop there, not to mention creating a distorted image of a healthy marriage. Because later in this scripture Paul instructs the husband to love his wife as Christ loved the church; that is, the husband is called to “give himself up” — sacrifice –himself for the sake of his wife.

In short, both wife and husband have something to give. Submission and Sacrifice are properly exercised in the context of mutuality. If you want your partner to submit and sacrifice to you, then you must also submit and sacrifice yourself to him or her. It’s the only way it will work.

An important life skill learned and practiced by many couples in healthy marriages is the ability to compromise. Let me define “compromise” as the ability to let go of — release your grip on — your total, perceived sense of rightness.

The ability of this giving is fueled by responding to the needs of the other rather than compulsively seeking self-centred solutions to problems – and it goes both ways of course. Both partners have to operate this way, so that both partner’s needs are met.

Perhaps another way of understanding how this is possible is through the process of detachment and attachment. You have to leave something before arriving at the new thing.

For example, imagine taking a ferry boat to cross a channel of water. In order to complete the journey, you first have to step off, leaving an old land, in order to step onto a new country, a new piece of land. It’s impossible to have one foot in the past and the other in the now and future. It’s impossible to demand a total agreement of your point of view in a dispute and still claim a fair marriage. It’s impossible to experience something new and better in your marriage without first letting go, or giving up, a way you normally respond; for example, reacting impulsively the same way to your spouse’s behaviour, every time.

What do you have to give up? To each their own …. is it pride, is it the need to be right all the time? “Do you want to be right, or do you want to be happy?” — another provocative proverb for marriage. In short, you can’t have healthy relationships — in marriage, in the church, at work, in families — unless ALL members learn how to compromise.

The Amish have a period of time, “rumspringa”, during adolescence when teenagers detach from their community for a time. Then most (80 percent) reattach. This experience speaks on the importance in the growth of someone as one leaves a phase of life and transitions ot the next. It also speaks of the need to “detach” from only thinking about your own interests, your own “world”, your own world views …. in order to embrace in love the other’s.

Detachment and attachment means loss, change, yes. It also leads to growth, personal development, and maturity in love. I heard from someone recently a wise comment: They said that we grow more from bad experiences than good experiences; we grow more from those challenging, difficult situations in life than the mountaintop experiences. Facing those hard times square-on makes us grow.

How than can we approach marriage with realism, but without getting mired in negativity and sulking in continuous despair?

Your selection of poetry from Song of Solomon presents a very real depiction of love, a love that is put alongside death. How bold! How real! Love can exist in full passion and strength without denying the hard realities of life.

Your choice to get married is such an expression. You could have chosen not to. But you chose life and love in the midst of all that assails you.

While the text from Song of Solomon at first appears to equate love and death, a further reading may give love the upper hand. The first part of the pericope says that love is as strong as death, passion as fierce as the grave.

But then the latter part of the passage tips its hat to love: not even one of the strongest forces of nature on this planet — water — can overcome love. After all, the force of water can over time literally move mountains; water can pound boulders into sand. Not even the force and strength of water can, however, overcome the power of love.

And while in a real marriage our human love is imperfect, it still has great power for the good. And what is more, the power of God’s love for you and your family is greater than anything we can imagine on earth and in heaven. The power of God’s love assures us that what unites us in relationships is stronger, much stronger, than whatever divides us.

And that’s what we’re here today to celebrate and affirm in our coming together.

On the surface thunder and lightning can scare us. It certainly does me! But thunder and lightning also signifies a positive change in the air mass. Thunder and lightning often means that the air that was once heavy, humid and oppressive needs to change to a climate where the air is clean, light, fresh. And where we can all breathe once again.

Marriage is indeed made in heaven. Thank God so is thunder and lighthing!

Let’s sing together now, “Love Divine, All Love’s Excelling!”