“Happy New Year!” Are you happy?

Please read Genesis 1:1-15 and Mark 1:4-11

I have to confess this time of year is a bit of a let down for me: The twelve days of Christmas are over. Today I spent a couple of hours taking down and packing away the outdoor lights. We’ve started dismantling the Christmas tree. The wrapping paper is boxed and stored for next year. And when I drive around town I see Christmas trees discarded on the road and curb sides. The colours and lights and festive decor has been transformed to …. grey and drab. Hello to the dog days of winter. At least a couple of months yet till Spring.

It makes the “happy” in “Happy New Year!” a bit hard to swallow.

And yet this time of year for Christians is a time for hope. During this very ordinary and downer of a time, we are called to pay attention. Because God is up to something!

Donald Miller wrote in his book “A Million Miles in a Thousand Years” a true story about Bob whose children were bored on New Year’s Day. “It must be the most boring holiday in the whole year!” his children complained as they sat around in their living room. So Bob asked them what they could do to make it more exciting. They could buy a pony; they could build a rocket ship; they could be in a parade.

A parade! Bob jumped on the idea (he was probably happy to get out of having to buy a pony). What could they do to make it an exciting parade? They could wear costumes, hold balloons, and invite everyone on the street to a BBQ in their back yard afterwards (they live in the San Diego area, not Canada, after all!).

Before they went out to recruit participants, Bob suggested they ask everyone to be in the parade, not just watch it. And surprisingly, plenty of the neighbourhood agreed to be in the parade! And a dozen or so even stayed afterwards for the BBQ in Bob’s back yard.

What is truly amazing about this story is that Bob’s children created something out of nothing. From a perceived state of boredom, they created a tradition that has over the past ten years now blossomed into a major annual event in the San Diego area. Even residents who have moved since that first New Year’s Day parade come back and schedule holidays around January 1st.

What a wonderful illustration of the generative and creative power human beings hold — a reflection of the nature of God to create something out of nothing. In the opening verses of the bible we learn about a major tenet of the Christian theology: God speaks creation into being … out of nothing, absolutely nothing, “the void” as the bible expresses.

The good news pronounces a word of hope that it is especially and repeatedly spoken into the parched places of our lives. God breathes something new; a seed is planted in those places of our lives that we feel bored, lonesome, lost, burdened. A new creation is being born in the midst of the drab, ordinary, daily humdrum of living. Do you see it?

When I was in my 20s I spent a year abroad in Germany. It was the first time I was away for a significant length of time from my twin brother, parents, country, language, and anything that was familiar to me. At first I found it extremely tough to bear. I dipped into the doldrums and found hard to keep my spirits up.

In the midst of the turmoil a friend I met there gave me this bible verse. He framed it for me; I’ve kept it on my wall ever since. It’s from Isaiah 58 — “The Lord will guide you continually and satisfy your needs in parched places …” (v.11)

It is not just in the spectacular, festive and holiday events; it is not just in the high worship services when the candles are lit, the trumpets are sounding and hundreds of worshippers are singing praises; it is not just in those mountaintop experiences that validate the presence of the Spirit of God in our lives. More to the point, it is what happens AFTER where the rubber hits the road of our faith journeys.

What happens AFTER the glorious birth of Jesus is how in the season of Epiphany Jesus is revealed as the Son of God, the Saviour of the whole world. It is what happens AFTER the angels sing when the reality of faith gets played out over time. And it isn’t always quaint and pretty.

Herod wants to kill the baby Jesus. Listening to the messenger of God the holy family flees to Egypt. They have to leave the country for some time until Herod’s violent energies are expended. And what a tragedy: baby boys murdered in Bethlehem to satisfy some megalomaniac and paranoid impulses of an evil dictator. The Epiphany stories begin on a rather sordid, conflicted note, wouldn’t you say?

And yet it is precisely in this drama where the revelation of God in our lives begins. It is in those “nothing” moments: when bad things happen; when we get bad news; when we honestly struggle through issues — those are the moments our eyes are open to see God creating something new out of nothing.

We sometimes assume, I think, that those people who have the Holy Spirit are perpetually happy, bubbly and glowing with warmth. Indeed, the Holy Spirit is often associated with glory, and things ‘spiritual’, things removed from the ordinariness of life.

We are called not to be glib and fake in our spirituality. We are called to be real, honest and authentic human beings. The Spirit of the living God is just as present in those hard circumstances as much as in the easy times, but always breathing new life, hope and promise.

The Holy Spirit “tore apart” the sky (Mark 1:10). Birds sometimes dive-bomb to the earth, you know; birds don’t always just gently float on the air. There’s a realness that permeates the Gospel text for today: there’s water, clothing from camel’s hair, a diet from bugs, tying sandals, etc. These details speak of the earthiness of the spiritual life. Spirit and material are combined in the Christ.

God’s voice creates out of nothing. What we may perceive as nothing, as boring, as depleted of all life and energy, pay attention: God may just be in that ‘nothing’ making something. And what God speaks creates something unimaginably beautiful, exciting, meaningful and truly happy.

What is the Spirit of God working in your life today? How is God revealed to you in the ordinary time of this season? Even in the dead of winter when all is frozen, God comes to us and is revealed to us in love, in power and in grace.

A Children’s Message at Christmas

Most often Christmas feels a lot like getting stuff. You know, presents under the tree with my name on it. Christmas is often about gifts for me. Did you get any awesome gifts this morning?

Is there a gift that you gave to someone that made them very happy? Do you get as excited about giving gifts as you do getting them? I hope you do. Because that can be lots of fun too. And it makes you feel real good inside doing something for some else.

Christmas is Jesus’ birthday. So, really, we ought to be thinking about what to give to Jesus, right?  Your being in the church today is a huge gift to Jesus. Jesus likes to see you come to worship and be with other Christians.

Jesus doesn’t need any toys, though. He’s God, after all. Everything on earth is his already. He doesn’t need any more stuff. But he does want your heart. Not literally. But he wants you to love him, to believe in him, to trust him. Can you give your heart to Jesus on his birthday? I think he’d like that. All you have to say is, “I love you Jesus.”

One way we can give our hearts to Jesus is by helping others and giving to others. So, your homework over the next couple of weeks of holidays from school is this: Think about someone you know that can use a bit of cheering up. It could be a parent, a grandparent – it could be someone who is sad, or sick, or lonely. Think about that person, and pray for them each day. And then talk with an adult about something you can do for them: a phone call, a note in the mail, a visit, or a little gift/craft you can make for them.

Jesus would like that very much. That would make him very happy on his birthday!

Let’s sing “Happy Birthday” to Jesus, because it’s his birthday after all that we celebrate every Christmas Day.

 

Christmas Eve – When Holy Happens

Please read Luke 2:1-20

Now, children, please listen to me: Your battery-operated candle is NOT to be used as a light-sabre during worship; it is not a Morse Code signal light; I know it is dark in here, but it is also not a flashlight to blind Mommy or Daddy or grandma or your friend across the isle.

Please turn it on at the appropriate time, hold it upright, when and only when we sing: “Silent Night, Holy Night!” It is a holy moment, after all. Try to be holy! Oh, and don’t forget to turn it off when the song is over!

We sing for “silent night, holy night” and yet, there is so much about this time of year that is anything but “silent” and “holy”. We recognize this, too, in our lives. Whether we’re dealing with high levels of anxiety, fear, guilt, or anger; whether we are suffering from physical, mental or emotional illness; whether we grieve our losses, loved ones no longer with us to share this Christmas time; whether our hearts are heavy by all the violence, poverty, injustice and pain we see in our dark world … So much in our lives can naturally rebel against any notion of appreciating any day, let alone this one as “holy”. Heaven can seem so far from us.

We are here tonight, nevertheless, because something about this time, we recognize at a deeper level — deeper even than sentiment and warm fuzzies — is holy. It is a holy moment. We believe that something very special happens this sacred, hallowed Eve, when the thin veil between heaven and earth is for a moment lifted and we receive a taste of the glory and love of God.

So, despite all that is not, let us this night still lift our sometimes meagre voices and sing, “Silent Night, Holy Night” — and maybe holy will happen. When DOES holy happen? Here are some observations about when holy happens.

At Christmas, what is “holy” is associated with a gift – starting with the gift of heaven in Jesus, and all the way to the practice of gift-giving and receiving in general.

As far as gifts are concerned, I admit, I often judge a gift by its functionability. Can I use it? Is it practical? I want to show you a gift I received at my birthday party a couple of months ago; the theme of the birthday party was “tropical beach”. This is a diorama my 7-year old daughter made.

As I received and cherished this gift, I realized that holy just happened — when I appreciated the gift not for its useability but for what it signified, the meaning behind it — which was the love of my daughter.

At Christmas, a baby was given to save humanity. A baby is the gift. Think about it: A baby is quite ordinary; babies are born every day. In that sense a baby is not extraordinary. For the religious of 1st century Palestine, they awaited a Saviour who would be extraordinary — someone who would come in might, in political strength, a Messiah to overthrow the Roman occupiers of their land.

But a baby is vulnerable, weak. And yet we cannot help but love babies. A baby is loved not for what it can do; a baby is loved not because he or she can earn your love. A baby is loved simply for who she or he is. Holy happens when the gift is appreciated for what it is, not for what it can be used. And THAT’S what is important.

Secondly, holy happens when there aren’t any pre-conditions. Holy happens quite unexpectedly. Holy often happens as a surprise, when we haven’t engineered and controlled and manipulated people and events in our lives to produce a holy moment. Think about what brings tears to your eyes — tears of heartfelt joy and even sadness; likely, something happens that you weren’t expecting, when you aren’t trying too hard to make holy happen. For example, reflecting on a manger scene or the lighted star atop the Christmas tree, in a quiet, restful moment.

Sometimes we work ourselves into a tizzy before Christmas because we believe it’s all up to us to make holy happen. Therefore we often suffer the consequences of stress, burn-out, anxiety, and depression.

The good news of Christmas is that it’s not our effort that lifts the veil between heaven and earth to create that holy moment in our lives.

Certainly it involves some effort to come together. There’s surely something to be said about our commitment to be together as a church community. As families and friends you gather over the holidays in your homes to be together — yes.

But it is often in the creative unknowing of just being together where the holy emerges in those unsuspecting moments.

Finally, holy happens when we experience these special days, moments, as something meant “for you”. The diorama wasn’t just a home-made craft of anything. My daughter made me an image of a place I just love to be — a beach, and a tropical one at that. The gift, quite ordinary, quite unuseable, is nevertheless meaningful BECAUSE it is personal, for me.

When we are invited to receive the Sacrament, the Holy Communion, we use simple bread and cup to signify a Holy Meal. It is quite ordinary. Actually, as meals go it’s quite UN-spectacular. And yet, it is meaningful because Jesus, the divine and human Son of God, gave it to us. It is meaningful because the grace, mercy, forgiveness and love that the babe in Bethlehem symbolizes, is given “for you”.

Martin Luther emphasized those words in the Communion: “give for YOU”. Those are likely the most important words spoken in the Communion liturgy: the bread the cup are given personally “for you”.

Holy happens when a direct connection is established between your heart and the very heart of God, through the baby born in Bethlehem — the greatest gift of all.

When we receive a gift for what it is (not for what it does), when we let holy happen (not force it or make it happen), when we appreciate the gift meant for me personally (not just for everyone else) — then, who knows? Holy might just happen.

Here’s the surprise: Because of Christmas holy doesn’t just happen tonight when we sing “Silent Night, Holy Night”, not just only on Christmas and Easter – as holy as those events can be. Holy happens everywhere and at any time; from Monday through Saturday just as much as on Sunday; in your home, at work, at school, in the hockey rink just as much as it does in those “official” holy places.

Holy happens even when we’re not paying attention. Remember, Jesus was born when most of his world was sleeping. So, let our Christmas prayer be that our hearts are open to the holy happening right before our very eyes in every time and every place.

Amen.

Christmas Day – Let the Light In

Please read John 1:1-14

Recently I’ve been wearing these new “progressive lens” eye-glasses to help my vision. It’s taken some getting used to. For one thing, I can’t simply walk around looking at things in the same way anymore. There are a few things I’ve had to practice doing differently.

I’m grateful for these lenses. The glass functions to direct the rays of light in a certain way as to heighten clarity and focus. The glass lets the light refract through the lens to give me the best possible vision. Although it’s something I’ve had to get used to, it is a gift to have the opportunity to see better.

Learning to wear glasses for the first time is very much like learning how to “wear” the faith. After all, Saint Paul casts the image in his letter to the Galatians of learning to be “clothed with Christ”, to “put on Christ” (Galatians 3:27). How do we “wear” our faith in Jesus the newborn king?

The first thing I’ve had to learn to do wearing my new glasses, is to look through a specific point on the glass, depending on whether I’m looking at something close to me or far away. I have to be intentional about where I look through the glass if I want clarity. I have to focus my sight.

I can’t just indiscriminately look at everything in my vision and expect to see all things clearly; these lenses don’t work that way. I have to prioritize my vision. And that means, I have to think about what I’m doing; and then I have to make choices.

At Christmas we proclaim that the “light of the world has now come” (John 1:9). Do I see this Light? God spoke through the prophet Isaiah as much to our world as his: “I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not see it?” (Isaiah 43:19) Do you see the Light of the world in your life and around you?

If at first I cannot see God in my life, I have to ask myself, “Am I looking in the right place?” Am I making choices, prioritizing what is important in my life, doing things that contribute to health and wholeness, accepting my limitations that I can’t “look at everything” and do everything?

The truth is, Jesus is called “Emmanuel” (Matthew 1:23), which means “God is with us.” The Light has come into the dark world, yet the darkness has not overcome it. If I can’t see clearly the Light of the world in my life, perhaps I’m not looking in the right place.

For one thing, Jesus is more likely to be found in the least expected places and people. Not just in the happy, successful places of pleasure, glory, comfort and joys of life. But especially in the unexpected places of our need, want, brokeness, failure and pain. The Christian God is not afraid to go into the dark places, after all.

Jesus was born in a dirty manger in a barn for animals in the middle of the night. Jesus – the Light of the world – was born surrounded by people of ill repute (those shepherds!) and foreigners from the East (those Magi – folks from other religions!) These are the people and places in whose midst Jesus first came.

Do you see Jesus in your life? Part of the answer to that question, I believe, depends on where you’re looking and the choices you make.

The second thing I’ve had to learn to wear my glasses well is: Don’t hide behind the glasses. Given my personality especially, I can easily fall into the trap of hiding behind my glasses and not looking at what is before me; either I want to deny the truth of what is before me, or I am afraid to engage it, or pretend it’s something that it is not.

For example, at first when I’ve been wearing my glasses and talking to people, I’ve had to force myself like never before to actually look in people’s eyes. It was easy wearing glasses to “stay within myself” – behind the rims. I think it’s sometimes easy wearing our faith to “stay within ourselves” and either ignore or deny the truth of what is beyond the church.

Wearing glasses, I need especially now to look beyond the boundaries of my world into the vast realm of God’s world. “For God so loved THE WORLD that He gave His only Son” (John 3:16) – the message of Christmas in a nutshell. God sent Jesus into a dark world – to unsuspecting shepherds, a teenage couple, foreigners from the East. It’s not just about me. It’s just as much about God’s love for others who may not be like me at all.

Finally, I need to trust my peripheral vision. Sometimes I need to take off my glasses, especially when I’m walking in the dark. And when I find myself in darkness, if I’m to see anything, find my way – the path before me, and allow whatever light there is to help me, I then need to trust what I see at the periphery of my sight – what seems to be just outside my grasp. I need to trust in my God-given, innate ability to see without seeing. Let me explain:

On a moonlit night, the amount of light washed over the land is only about 10% of full sunlight. Imagine also the effect of one candle burning in a large, dark room: it doesn’t illuminate the whole room, just a part of it.

When you are trying to move in the dark, if you try too hard to see, it won’t work. If you look directly on the path or at that which you want to see, you’ll start imagining things! Rather, you have to look to the side a bit and let your peripheral vision guide you and allow you to see something of what in truth is there. You’ll get a truer picture of what’s ahead by letting go of the compulsion to manage directly your sight or assuming the only way forward is to wait until noon-time on a bright, cloud-free, sunny day. Admitedly, it takes some practice to walk well in semi-darkness.

Saint Paul wrote, “We walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Cor 5:7), and again: “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Heb 11:1). In other words, we move forward not so much by exercising our own effort to see, or expecting to see everything crystal-clearly.

Often faith will mean trusting. Martin Luther’s definition of faith included the centrality of trust in a power greater than what I can do alone. The effect of faith is to see beyond what I can grasp with the full effort of my will.

Listen to the words of Jesus, who speaks to us today: “You did not choose me, I chose you” (John 15:16). Saint Paul reinforces this message when he writes, “Our justification depends not on human will or exertion, but on God …” (Romans 9:16) I need to appreciate the truth of God’s wondrous mystery.

Employing all these strategies of “wearing our faith” well is irrelevant unless we appreciate first and foremost the critical and foundational connerstone of belief in Christianity: The Light first comes to us. Focusing our energy, Engaging others, Learning to let go and trust — none of these work unless our eyes are first open to receive the light. “Sight” only happens as a gift to us.

This is good news: The light has come into the world! The Light has come!

Let the eyes of our heart be open to receive the light and love of One who has already come into the world, and continues to come to each one of us.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Advent 2B – Waiting to Give

Please read Isaiah 40 and Mark 1

A six-year old girl asked her father, the pastor, why before preaching a sermon he always bowed his head in a moment of silence.

“Well, my dear,” the pastor answered his daughter, “before I preach I ask God to help me preach a good sermon.”

“But Daddy,” the daughter responded, “You’ve been praying that prayer for a long time already. Why hasn’t God answered it?”

Indeed, why do we pray? What kind of answer are we looking for? Praying is often what we do when there’s nothing left for us to do. When we have to wait.

Advent is about watching and waiting. During this season of anticipation, we say we wait for Christmas to come. If you’d ask a child, this means looking forward to presents, toys and the fun of getting more stuff wrapped up under the Christmas tree.

I suspect to a large extent even we adults never really outgrow this kind of waiting. We look forward to the next thing we can get for ourselves — an education, a job, a spouse, a child, a house, a vacation, more stuff. As we age we wait to be rewarded, to receive accolades, fame, the latest toy, whatever it may be …. Waiting is basically motivated by self-gratification; that is, obtaining something more for ourselves.

But time soon runs out on us. Our lives progress to a point where if we are going to wait, and wait well, waiting must soon become something else. Our waiting needs to be transformed into a self-giving motif rather than a selfish one. If it isn’t our natural ageing and nearing prospect of our death that propels us towards this maturity, than it must be the grace of God, regardless of our age.

So, why will we wait? Perhaps the answer to this question lies in response to another question that may be a tad easier to answer: For what do we ask this Advent time in which we wait for the coming celebration of “God with us” — Emmanuel?

When I was about ten years old my parents asked my brother and me to think about a special request to bring to the manger, to the baby Jesus. I was instructed NOT to ask Jesus for a toy or any “stuff”. It was a challenge for me to think of a prayer that was a bit more substantial than asking for some ‘thing’ for myself.

For what do we ask from our Lord this coming season? More stuff? More money? More material blessings? Or, are our prayers more focused on our health, protection and safety? Whatever it is, our prayers are key to understanding the true desire of our hearts.

The Lord’s Prayer is a good place to start for guidance on how to pray, for what to ask, and how to wait. When the disciples didn’t know how to pray, they asked Jesus to teach them. And he taught them. If you look carefully at all the petitions of the Our Father, most of the verses have to do with who God is, what God will do, or what we ask of God. Except for one line.

In the most beloved prayer of Christianity, the only thing we say we will do, is forgive others. “…. as we forgive those who trespass against us.” Of all the things we want to do, of all the things we think we need or must do as Christians, forgiveness is fundamental here. Forgiveness is what we wait for. Forgiveness is what we do. Forgiveness is what we give.

Why will we wait this Advent? We are given this time to contemplate the state of our hearts. Because forgiveness starts as a quality of the inner life. We are given this time to reflect, affirm and practice our God-given capacity to give forgiveness, to receive it, to be generous with our lives, in the love and grace of God. Especially where there is need.

The Attawapiskat community on the shores of James Bay in northern Ontario has been in the news recently when the town government declared a state of emergency. The deplorable conditions in which the people there live look a lot like what we see in the developing world, and would never at first think this could happen in our own backyard — in Canada!

We’ve heard much analysis and argument about how this came to be. So many reasons that only justify our inaction: the government is at fault since they knew about this for a long time; the first nations people can’t take care of themselves and modern infrastructure; the economy does not support their way of life and vice versa; cultural disconnects; ongoing abuses — you name it. We can sit here and argue about it while human beings hundreds of miles north of this very place will die this winter.

The only real solution right now, is grace. We need to give. Our relatively rich society in southern Canada needs to give so that they in the north will not suffer any more.

A quality of forgiveness and grace — indeed the Christian life — is “letting go”, releasing the other person from your anger, releasing yourself from whatever binds you. The quality of letting go of controlling the outcomes of our efforts to manage life for our own benefit, on our own terms.

Richard Rohr writes about the Cherokee chiefs who said to their young braves, “Why do you spend your time in brooding? Don’t you know you are being driven by great winds across the sky?” Rohr continues to write: Don’t you know you’re part of a much bigger pattern? But you’re not in control of it, any more than you would be of great winds. You and I are a small part of a much bigger mystery. (Everything Belongs, page 120)

Father Jack Costello, a Jesuit priest and President of Regis College in Toronto said about the work of the Holy Spirit — often described as a great wind — “the Holy Spirit gives us freedom, peace, and makes us courageous and reckless people.”

I often imagine John the Baptist an exemplar of the above description of someone “reckless” in God’s grace and Spirit. John the Baptist came announcing the coming Lord and repentence for the forgiveness of sin (Mark 1:4). He came proclaiming that he and the powers of the world were not in charge. Our lives are not governed by human history. What we experience in our lives – good and bad – is not the work of our hands alone.

Rather, our lives are part of God’s history, God’s story of salvation. The world and history is governed by God, who will make in “the rough places a plain”, the “uneven ground level” who will “lift up every valley” and make “every mountain and hill low” (Isaiah 40). Our lives are in God’s hands.

The true message of Advent is a shock to the system: The message of Advent is about God’s decision to let go. God decided to release His Son into the world. God decided to self-disclose. God decided to make God-self vulnerable by becoming fully human. What a huge risk! What a divine letting-go!

What if waiting this Advent was NOT motivated by the prospect and illusion of what more I can get for myself? What if waiting this Advent was about what I would let go of this Christmas. What can I give of myself and let go of? — for the sake of my family, my community, my church, my nation, my world?

After all, it is God’s church, God’s community, God’s nation and God’s world to begin with!

Thanks be to God! Amen.

Candle-light: An Enduring Symbol for Prayer

“Let my prayer be counted as incense before you,
and the lifting up of my hands as an evening sacrifice.”

(Psalm 141:2)

In the middle ages, places of worship depended on candlelight so that worshippers could see what was going on around the altar, reading desk and font.

Of course today lighted candles in worship spaces fulfill a more symbolic rather than functional role. Thanks to electrical power we don’t need the candle to ‘shed light’ in a literal, but more a symbolic sense.

Symbols are important in our worship practice not as the goal or ultimate meaning of worship (i.e. we don’t worship the candle) but as an aid to help focus our often distracted minds on what is truly important in what we do and are in the church.

The vision statement for Zion Lutheran Church, “Celebrating God As We Serve Others”, presumes that the church’s central activity is worshipping God. While the other groups, ministries, committees and services in which the church engages are all important, fundamentally our job is to worship God and serve others in a worshipful and prayerful way. That’s how we celebrate … in worshipful service.

To be prayerful or worshipful in our service suggests that in our action we are mindful and aware of God’s presence with us and those whom we serve. In whatever circumstance of life in which we find ourselves we acknowledge – and if possible observe moments of silence and prayer – the presence of the Holy Spirit in and around us.

Light a candle during the Advent & Christmas seasons. Observe the single flame. Reflect on the flame and its invisible emanations as symbol of our prayers rising to the heavens in the Spirit of God. The Desert Fathers and Mothers of early Christianity said that their fingers entwined in prayer became fingers of fire and flame; hence the meaningful tradition of placing lighted candles on the altar during worship and prayer services.

May our prayers rise to God and spread outward to include others in the warmth of God’s love. In our lives the light of Christ shines outward, reaching into the dark world. Even in the darkness of our own lives shines the light of Christ, reflected in and through us.

Thanks be to God, for this candlelight can never be snuffed out.

(Work consulted: Anselm Gruen, “Weihnachten – Einen Neuen Anfang Feiern” Herder, 2001, p.45-47)

Proper 28 Season after Pentecost – Remember who you are

Matthew 25:14-30

I remember reading this story as a youth feeling for the first time that I was in big trouble. In trouble, for the life of faith I was embarking on. In trouble, because it wasn’t going to be easy; being a Christian wasn’t just going to be “nice”. With fear and trepidation I came to realize that a life of faith was going to challenge me to the core of my personality and my basic human instint.

You see, until Jesus explained to his disciples, basically, which of the servants did well and which didn’t, I was — and on some level still am – completely sympathetic with the third servant who hid his talent and didn’t do anything with it. And, impressed by those who took a risk with the gift they were given. From that time on, I realized that a life of faith would often go against my way of thinking often prone to suspicion, self-preservation and basic conservatism.

The easy way would be to do nothing. Doing nothing would cut down on vulnerability and exposure to an unknown climate for investment in a scary world. The easy way would be to do nothing.

Because the easy way is based on fear. The servant who acted out of fear even admits it: “I was afraid,” he says, trying to justifiy his inaction. Yet, does his position not describe a valid approach to living in a scary world: hunker down, conserve what you already have (don’t lose it!), play it safe, a best offence is the best defence …? I think we know those arguments all too well, arguments which are all based on a fundamental fear of our failure, demise and death.

On Remembrance Day the community gathered to remember the fallen in war. Death can put perspective on any life: the life of our nation, our church, our community, our very own lives.

Fast forward our lives to our deathbeds. From the perspective of our end time, how would we look upon the way we lived? Were our lives in the church, in our families, in our work — lives based on fear?

Or were they characterized by boldness, by commitments made against all odds, against the prevailing notions of “common sense”, by commitments and actions made in faith and trust in the God of our lives, a God who calls us to ventures unkown? Those are the values, by the way, we admire and remember in our soldiers, aren’t they? The history of the battle at Vimy Ridge tells that story the best.

I like the humour in the story of Jesus stringing a high wire over Niagara Falls. He was going to ride his bicycle across it. Jesus asked his disciples, “Do you believe I can ride across and back?”

“Oh yes,” they replied, “you can do it.” So, Jesus rode over and back. When he got back, the jubilant disciples reaffirmed their confidence. They were now absolutely positive and told Jesus so. He had proven it.

So, Jesus asked them again, “Do you think I can do it again?” This time they were even more confident and they assured him it was, in theological language, a piece of cake.

“Okay,” Jesus said, pointing to the handlebars, “Get on.”

The feeling we get when we imagine getting on those handlebars relates directly to faith. We’re very happy to see Jesus do it. And he did already, in a manner of speaking. But that’s not faith. Faith is trusting that Jesus will carry you over while you sit on the handlebars. Jesus isn’t asking you to do it alone; just that you trust that he will carry you over and through the fearful situations of our lives. (This wonderful story is found in Clarence Thomson’s ‘Parables and the Enneagram’, p.98)

How can we live faithfully so that fear does not hold us in its grip?

In preparation for flying out to Saskatoon last summer for the church convention, I read some articles on how to conquer a fear of flying. Among many tips to do so, this one stood out for me. The advice given by Katharine Watts was: “Develop a clear motivation for overcoming that fear.”

I think this would apply to any fear we might have: To assert the reason WHY you are doing something fearful. In the example of flying, Watts writes, “In order to conquer fears, there needs to be a good incentive … Develop a very specific reason why overcoming your fear of flying is important. Just wanting to travel is a little bit vague. Instead, say ‘every winter I need to go down south’ or ‘I want to adopt a child in China.'” When the good motivation is strong in your mind and in your heart, it’ll be harder to let fear get in the way. But if the reasoning is weak, or vague, or unclear — fear can take over.

In other words, “Remember why we’re doing it in the first place!” Put in front of us the main thing of what it is we’re all about. I think this applies directly to being and doing church.

Remembrance Day is about remembering the bigger picture. Remembering the sacrifice our soldiers made to win us freedom in our public lives — the freedom to vote, for example, which is a civic duty and privilege bought by their blood. Remembering the big picture; the WHY.

When I was young, leaving the house for school my mother reminded me: Remember your bus number, remember your telephone number, remember your address, remember your name, your teacher’s name, your parents’ names. In other words, remember the facts.

While remembering facts is important in their own right, Remembrance Day is not just about remembering history from the point of view of “information” about the past. In truth, we live in a day and age that can be described as “information overload”. Our brains are simply not wired to be able to take in all the information and facts that come flying at us at high speed. At a click of a button we can find out anything we want to on any subject matter you can imagine.

By the time I was in my early twenties, my mother had changed her message about “remembering” — no longer remember the facts, so much. Rather, Martin, remember who you are.

The remembering, the knowing, is so much more than information, facts, particularities in history and doctrinal statements of belief, etc. — as interesting and as important as this information is. The knowing and remembering must go deeper. Remember who you are, why we are, whose we are. I think this is the kind of remembering our society and especially the church needs to engage in more these days.

Remember who we are and whose we are. Remember who we are as the people of God, sitting in those pews. All Saints Sunday last week cued us to a truth in answer to who we are and whose we are: We are beloved creations of God, created to be loved and to love and serve others with the gifts we have and out of that generous love of God. We are already blessed before we do anything!

I wonder if that fearful servant had remembered not all the possible places he could hide his penny, not his position in the ranks of servants and how he could exploit it to his advantage, not his bank account number.

Rather, I wonder if he but remembered who his boss was, the kind of person he was, and got it right (his logic is faulty!); if he remembered to whom he belonged in the first place. If he had remembered that his boss was not the kind of guy who would punish him for taking a risk with his talent, if he had remembered the reason why — and explored more those bigger questions — I wonder whether he would have been so fearful.

I wish there was someone in that story who could have coached him and reminded him of this before he buried his talent out of fear.

If the passage we read today says anything about our God, is that God is generous to those who step it up and step it out.

And though our memories may sometimes be faulty, though we may struggle to remember who and whose we are, we can be certain that God will remember us and never forget us. He holds us in the palm of his hand. We have nothing to lose for trying, for taking a risk, for stepping outside our comfort zone, for putting fear in its proper place; not denying our fear, but subjecting it to a greater truth: the love and generosity of God that will never, never waver, no matter what.

Let us be confident then that when we do anything for the sake of God’s glory, God’s mission, God’s good purposes, then that gift will not be wasted; it will increase! And each of us has been given a gift. Why not use it?

To God alone be glory and honour forever and ever. Amen.

Love Makes Work Easy

“When anything is done from realized love, it is easy.” So claims Clarence Thomson in his book ‘Parables and the Enneagram’ (p.61).
These are words worth pondering, especially for leaders who struggle with the demands, burdens and daily vicissitudes of their work. He goes on to share his experience of watching a group of boys play ball – lest “love” seem too sublime an answer to the challenge of a leader’s work: “What they [the boys] want most is to exert themselves because they love the game. A musician will play, not work, a difficult piece of music. Anything done out of love, regardless of effort, becomes easy. Without love, all is work.” With love, work – whatever that work is – becomes a joyful and easy expression of your self. Love negates the false dichotomy between effort and ease.

Thanksgiving from the Church – Day of Thanksgiving-A

Please read Luke 17:11-19

Once upon a time, there was an orchestra. This orchestra was, in some ways, quite ordinary. It was a regular kind of orchestra; you might know there are four main types of instruments in any full orchestra:

  1. The string section – with violins, cellos and
    string bass
  2. The woodwind section – with oboes, flutes and
    piccolos
  3. The brass section – with trumpets, horns and
    tubas
  4. And, the percussion section – with timpani
    drums, harps and cymbals

But at a concert that they were giving for the Queen, the entire percussion section didn’t show up for the rehearsal scheduled right before their performance. All the other members were there, so they tried anyways to play their pieces for practice.

But, as you may know, one of the purposes of the percussion section is to help everyone else keep the beat. Because the percussion section wasn’t there, and the rest of the orchestra didn’t have the beat to keep them in sync, their rehearsal flopped – they sounded terrible because everyone was playing their parts to different rhythms.

Everyone was quite worried. How would they sound for the Queen without the percussion section? Would they even be able to perform? In the moments before their performance when the percussion section still hadn’t showed up, the conductor seriously considered cancelling their performance, which would have effectively ruined their reputation as one of the best orchestras in the country.

Thankfully, just before the conductor went to tell the bad news to the Queen, all the members of the percussion section rushed through the door. How grateful everyone else in the orchestra felt to see their friends from the percussion section!

I think the church is like that orchestra. In baptism we become members of the church. Each of us has a specific and vital role to play in the healthy functioning of the church. Each of us has specific gifts of offer, so that under the direction of the conductor – Jesus – when we play together we make a beautiful sound to the world around us.

The moral of the story is: we need everyone’s input in order to be healthy as a church. Everyone has to do their part for us to be effective in our ministry. And, basically, how
our parts get played out — if it’s good and healthy — is from an attitude of gratitude for being included in God’s church and God’s mission.

When Jesus healed the sick people – the ten lepers – in the story from the bible, he was blessing them. When Jesus healed them, he effectively invited them into the family of God, welcoming them to belong.

When we belong to the family of God, Jesus promises to bless us with his grace and love forever. This belonging is a wonderful thing because no matter what happens in our lives, no matter where we go or who we’re with, God will always be there for us.

It’s a cause for thanksgiving, is it not? To be thankful? One of those who was healed came back to thank Jesus.

And that’s what the church is all about. In all that we do and are, we give thanks to God by giving our gifts – our gifts of music, song, words, love, money, help, service – whatever. We give thanks.

Lukas asked to sing a song at his baptism, I believe as a gesture of thanksgiving to God, for inviting him and welcoming him into the family of God. Thank you, Lukas, for your witness and expression today of thanksgiving.

Happy Thanksgiving!

The Turn-Around God

When at the beginning of September the Tampa Bay Rays were some half-a-dozen or more games behind the Boston Red Sox for the American League wild card spot, the die was cast as far as I was concerned: The Red Sox would once again meet their Eastern Division rivals — the famed New York Yankees — in the post-season. It was a foregone conclusion.

On the last night of the regular season at the end of September, I can’t think of a more nail-biting finish to determine the wild card. Not only were the Sox and Rays tied for the wild card going into the last game — the Rays had mounted an incredible come back throughout September and the Red Sox lost more games than they won — the way those games went into extra innings was epic, to say the least.

For seven innings in both games (Boston vs. Baltimore and New York vs. Tampa Bay) my “foregone” conclusions were indeed coming to pass: Boston was winning by several runs, and so was New York. Therefore, September was going to go down as an anomaly in the eventual placing of the Sox in the wild card position.

But alas! Baltimore tied the game by the ninth, sending the game into extra innings; Tampa Bay tied its game by the ninth to force extra innings as well. And Surprise!  When all was said and done, Tampa Bay won its game …. and the Red Sox lost theirs.

I guess what may appear to be a foregone conclusion was not the way to go. It isn’t the way to go when “guessing” winners and losers. It isn’t the way to go in life.

And it certainly isn’t the way to go, with God.

The Christian God is a turn-around God. Always surprising us with grace. Always rising out of the dust. Never a foregone conclusion based on the “evidence”.

I realize I’ve thrown in a heap of superlatives. Yet I can’t think of a better way to describe “God”!

When death appears to be a foregone conclusion, the end game, based on the evidence of deteriorating bodies and physical capacities of our human existence, what do we say about the nature and activity of God?

Standing by the graveside of a loved one recently inurned, death seems so final. So does God.

Nevertheless, I don’t want to underestimate God. Because my hunch is that it is in God’s nature to mount an incredible comeback and surprise everyone at the end of it all.

It is called: Resurrection. New life out of death.