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Decisions, Decisions

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Leadership is about helping others make decisions. How effective your leadership proves to be depends in large part how you lead others to make a decision. The decision is not necessarily one you favour, although the ability to persuade through compelling argument has traditionally characterized the successful leader in our western, americanized culture. No, the ability I mean reflects a servant quality of grappling with others’ perspectives and working towards a consensus that moves beyond the personal opinion of any one individual — leader or otherwise.

For this to work, the effective leader must demonstrate some self-awareness. Folly to that leader whose self-awareness does not exceed occasionally looking in the mirror!

So, how do you lead?

1. Is your natural strength of an analytical, thinking quality? Do you help others think about issues in order to seek clarity of thought and provide a clear direction consistent with stated purposes, meaning and mission?

2. Is your natural strength of a feeling, passionate quality? Do you help others get in touch with how they feel towards a subject matter, unlocking in them excitement and energy for a worthwhile cause?

3. Is your natural strength grounded in conviction and presence of being? Do you help others embrace the truth about themselves, and take action that is authentic, genuine and unflappable because it is sourced from deep within oneself?

What is your leadership style? Likely, you orient yourself most often around one of the three above-stated descriptions. Being aware of how best you function can lead you to help others discover how best they operate — and together you will make the best decisions possible.

Graveside Journey

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When death confronts us suddenly, unexpectedly, it’s as if the breath has been sucked from our lungs. For the last place you would ever have imagined being, a short week ago today, would be right here by the graveside of your loved one.

Such tragedy drives us far down into ourselves, for the pain of loss strikes deep in your heart. Some describe grief as if a piece of your heart has been wrenched away. It is not a journey we naturally, nor easily, take at the best of times. Sometimes the harsh reality of the sudden death of a loved one pulls us into the depths, and we have no choice but to face it.

The tears of pain sometimes surface. Those tears are outward signs of an inner anguish of the soul. But when we can take that journey, honestly, and surrender ourselves to those deep feelings, we may perhaps find something else in our hearts as well. Indeed we find in our hearts the very core of all that we are — the good and the bad.

The courage we show when we allow ourselves the tears of despair, renders a great gift. They say, tears of grief are reflections of the deep love you hold for your loved one. Pain and Love, sharing the same space within us. For, in the depths of our being, our heart, we not only grieve deeply, we also discover the gift of faith, hope and love.

We gather this day to remember your loved one, right here, right now — at his graveside. We celebrate and give thanks for the gift of his life. We remember and hold his memory close. As difficult and challenging as it is to do so today, alongside the deep feelings of grief and pain resonate also the longing and yearning for something more, something good beyond the bad, something hopeful beyond the endings.

From that well-spring deep within our hearts emerges the faith for us to say this day that your loved one now is free from his physical limitations. Your loved one is now free, as a bird in flight. It lifts my soul to hear how much he loved bird-watching. As he lived he was already internally practicing his spirituality, lifting as with the birds his soul towards the heavens. He also loved the natural beauty — the sanctuaries — of cottage living. So, we can say in faith and conviction that he enjoys today the fullness of life beyond the grave, without inhibition, totally free.

“But those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint” (Isaiah 40:31). A popular hymn based on this passage suggests that the eagles’ wings will bear you up into the freedom, the love, the grace that is God’s kingdom forever. This is the promise. This is the reality faith accepts for your loved one today.

We are reminded again by this sudden death that the veil between life and death is indeed thin. We walk daily a breath away from the gate of death. So this reality confronts us and yes, maybe even frightens us.

But our faith announces that death has not the last word over us. Because of the resurrection of Christ, we also walk with the seed of faith deep within our hearts — as did your loved one — that eventually unity will overcome division, hope will vanquish despair, and joy will conquer sorrow; through Jesus Christ our Lord.

So, I encourage you to make that journey within yourself daily, both to embrace the grieving process as a path to healing and wholeness, but also to discover therein the gift of faith. Be courageous to do so. It isn’t easy always. But I believe that journey undertaken in good faith will bear good fruit in your lives.

Trinity Sunday – The End of Days?

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Matthew 28:20 “…. I will be with you to the end of the age ….”

We come now to the end of things.

It’s the end of a school year. It’s the end of many church programs. On this Trinity Sunday we read the end of the Gospel of Matthew, the last words of Jesus. You may remember recently some zealous Christians, among them Harold Camping, were touting May 21, 2011 as the end of days. And others still look to next December 2012 as the end of time.

We are a people consumed with thoughts of things coming to an end — even to catastrophic proportions.

Why is that? Perhaps a simple answer is: Understandably, as we age we cannot deny the reality of our mortality. We begin in earnest to reflect on and come to terms with the end of ourselves.

But do our thoughts of “end times” simmer over the cauldron of fear? I suspect our curiosity about the end is often tied to a fear of the unknown, fear of suffering, fear of something going horribly wrong, out of our control. Fear of something.

And, I suspect the cloak of fear surrounds the popular theology about most religious speculations concerning the end of days. Some call it the Rapture. Some call it Judgement Day. Most Christians call it the Second Coming of Christ.

This theology of the Rapture began with a British preacher in the 19th century, John Nelson Darby. Darby used what Lutheran New Testament professor at the Chicago School of Theology, Barbara Rossing, calls “pick-and-choose literalism”; that is, taking a verse from 1 Thessalonians about us flying up into the air to meet Jesus, and a verse from Matthew where two people are working in the field, and one is taken, another left behind, and a verse from Daniel 9 coupled with some violent imagery from Revelation — put those together and you have this belief that Christ doesn’t just return once at his second coming– there are actually two second comings divided by a seven-year period of tribulation inbetween. And you are either a pre-tribulation believer, or a post-tribulation believer — and fundamentalist churches are divided over this rapture belief — you are either pre-trib, post-trib, or as some joke: pan-trib — believing it’ll all pan out in the end!

And then, we become pre-occupied by that question in our lives: What happens next? About death — what happens after we die? At the end of it … what happens next?

If fear is the dominant emotion attributed to our beliefs — whatever they are — let me suggest we need to put that belief under the microcope and examine its validity and truth. Why? Because if the underlying and constant state of the heart is fearful — then there is no room for faith, for trust, for hope, and for love. And if our lives don’t demonstrate these higher spiritual qualities, but only fear — then what does that say about our faith?

I agree with Barbara Rossing who debunks the popular notion of the “Rapture” — a term not even mentioned in the Bible. She relates a story of some children raised with this belief who when they come home from school are overcome with fear upon finding their parents absent. They are worried that their parents have been “raptured” and taken up to heaven. And, they are traumatized that they have now been left behind.

The danger of Darby’s rapture theology, for one thing, is that it prescribes certain world events must take place for Christ to return. It prescribes what is necessary, what is requisite, in order for Jesus to come back to earth — such as the third temple being built in Jerusalem, and agreements between world leaders in Israel, Russia, and America. Consequently it encourages some radical Christians to take action to precipitate these contrived world events so Jesus can come back. And to top it all — these scenarios are incredibly violent in nature.

Does this theology accurately describe what God wants for our future? Does God want for us to live in perpetual fear? Does God want for us to live out our lives on earth under a tyranny of anxiety and trepidation looking to violent solutions to God’s will? Certainly, fear plays a role in our development and maturity as people of faith. And yes, there is biblical truth pointing us to the second coming of Jesus. Absolutely.

But essentially God is not a fear-mongering God, but a God of love. “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear” we are reminded by the author of 1 John 4:18.

The word “trinity”, like “rapture”, is another word not found in the bible. But the doctrine of the Holy Trinity is a foundational doctrine for the church of all ages. I would encourage us to reflect more on this doctrine, rather than the rapture, when we consider the end of days.

What does the doctrine of the Holy Trinity tell us about the God we worship today? Many good things. But, fundamentally, it teaches us that God is a relational God — one God in three persons. And so, we understood God, not a solitary entity unto Godself — detached, autonomous and individualistic in expression. Rather, God is a God of mutual relationship.

And so it shouldn’t surprise us to hear Jesus’ last words in Matthew’s Gospel suggesting an ongoing, loving relationship with his disciples to the end of time, even if the future remains somewhat clouded to us. The point is not to figure it out to the last detail how it will all pan out — that is not the goal of biblical study.

Because even persons of faith can’t know exactly how things will pan out in the end. Saint Paul said himself in 1 Cor 13:12 — “Now, we see as in a mirror dimly, but then we shall see face to face ….” when we are united with God in heaven. On earth, we cannot know such things. Imbedded throughout that famous apocalyptic text from Matthew 24 are those words we need to affirm time and time again: “But about that day and hour no one knows …”(v.36), ” … for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming (v.42)” and “… the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour” (v.44).

So, what does happen next? I believe the biblical writers were inspired by God for a reason to do what they did. Because the bible is not a closed canon. The bible is not just stories about what happened a long time ago. The bible is not just a history book, or a legal textbook that we study to satisfy some intellectual pursuits or to make propositional statements about God. The bible is not a code book to decipher, as many pop-fiction books today suggest.

The bible is a living text — a living Word — that invites us in. All the books in the world cannot contain all that can be said about the ongoing relationship between God and people (John 20:30; 21:25). The story of faith, in other words, continues. What happens next?

WE happen next. GOD-with-us happens next, no matter what.

The teachings of Jesus are not the last word. The last word is that there is never a last word with God. In the original Greek, it does not literally say “Remember I am with you to the end of the age” — as the NRSV suggests. Jesus is not to be a memory only.

“Behold!” would be a better translation beginning the last verse of the Gospel of Matthew (Meda A. A. Stamper, Feasting on the Word, Year A Volume 3, eds David Bartlett & Barbara Brown Taylor, p.49). Behold! “I am with you.” The one who is named Immanuel, “God is with us,” before his birth will be with his followers all their days until the close of the age.

Therefore we can be true to the biblical call for us to “remain awake” and “be ready” for the coming Saviour; that is, we can live in trust and hope that even in the most scary, horrific of circumstances, we will not be alone. Even should the heavens crumble and the earth shake and the tempest of life unerve us, we are infinitely lovable and infinitely loved in relationship with God, with creation and with one another.

Martin Luther had one of the best responses to the question about the end of days: He said that if he knew for sure the end of the world was coming tomorrow, he would still go outside and plant an apple tree today. This is a statement that reflects abiding hope and abiding truth: Facing the direst of situations, we are called to act, as we are able, in promoting hope, promoting good, promoting love, promoting life, promoting relationships guided by the good news of salvation in Christ Jesus. Now this is what a life of faith, hope and love is all about.

What endures is not fear, but love. Therefore, may we live our end of days as ambassadors of God’s grace, God’s light, in a darkened world hell-bent on violence, destruction and hatred. Let us go forward in faithful, loving, and trusting relationship with the Triune God. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Confirmation Sunday — the Adventure Continues

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John 7: 37-39 ” … out of the believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water ….

The image of water brings it, again, all back to Baptism. Confirmation is about affirming — saying “yes!” — to your baptism. The waters of our little font seem placid and calm enough. But we all know that faith and life can be at times turbulent and stormy. The text from John for today suggests the living water is the Spirit of God, given to you! What does that say about how the Spirit behaves? Because “living” does not mean dead and unmoving.

I normally associate water with adventure — because I love to play at the beach, paddle in my canoe or kayak, or simply sit by or walk along a waterfront. The summer time invites this anticipation and excitement for being by, on, or in the water.

At very least, life with God is an Adventure! And one of the major characteristics of an adventure is: you don’t always get what you expect; an adventure takes you places you never thought you’d go; things are always changing; there’s always more than you expected. Remember, Jesus told his disciples that they would do even greater things than he himself accomplished (John 14:12).

Like confirmation.

Confirmation is more than you think! Did you ever learn this camp song? “There’s a hole in the bottom of the sea …. there’s a log in the hole in the bottom of the sea …. there’s a bump on the log in the hole in the bottom of the sea …. there’s a frog on the bump on the log in the hole in the bottom of the sea … there’s a wart on the frog on the bump on the log in hole in the bottom of the sea … there’s a fly on the wart on the frog on the bump on the log in the hole in the bottom of the sea … there’s a flea on the fly on the wart on the frog on the bump on the log in the hole in the bottom of the sea …”

Did you every learn this silly campfire song? At first glance, it looks like a simple, straightforward hole. But as soon as you dive into the waters towards that one hole in the bottom of the sea, all of a sudden you discover so much more there! More questions, more possibilities, more perspectives … more adventure!

We often think questions at Confirmation are directed solely to the confirmands; but I have a question today for the adults in the room: What is the first thing that comes to your mind when I say the word, “Confirmation”? You may think back to your Confirmation: what first comes to mind?

Now, to the Confirmands: Let’s reflect over the past two years and recall some of the things we did in Confirmation learning: a visit to the funeral home; a visit to the Pentecostal Tabernacle on a Sunday morning; serving at the local soup kitchen; a visit to Holy Trinity Anglican Church for worship; cleaning up the cemetery; reading your favourite bible stories to the class and parents from the pulpit; ushering, acolyting, reading bible lessons in mid-week Lenten services; serving food during mid-week Lenten services and Oktoberfest supper; going on a scavenger hunt for bible messages hidden throughout this whole building; writing tests while sitting quietly in the pews of this sanctuary before Christmas; sitting in silence and prayer around the lighted paschal candle, listening to Christian music; classes together with parents/grandparents in Parish Hall …..

Confirmation is not something that happens merely in a classroom downstairs. It’s much more than that. You probably didn’t expect confirmation to turn out the way it did when you started a couple of years ago, eh? Welcome to the Adventure of Life!

An adventure is about the journey, not the destination.

The process of learning is multi-faceted and ongoing. Confirmation is not so much about the destination, it’s about the journey. There’s Jethro Gibbs, NCIS team leader, the “boss”, building his boat in his basement. Do you watch NCIS on TV? He builds at least three boats over the course of the series. Everyone always asks him how he gets a finished boat out of the basement — because the boats are large and take up most of the room in the relatively small basement room where he works. But we never really know how he gets those boats out; he never really gives anyone a straight answer. We just always see him building that boat.

Confirmation is not just about today — the destination — as important as it is. It’s more about the journey that brought you here, and will continue beyond today.

The church, like confirmation, is more than we think. A financial institution I do my banking at has a slogan printed on it’s bank machines: “You’re richer than you think!” It’s a statement of faith, isn’t it? Funny how the world of business and banking encourages us to a way of thinking that moves us beyond what is immediately apparent. The church has been preaching this from the beginning. Church is a lot bigger than what you see on the outside.

Did you ever watch Dr. Who on TV, and his telephone booth time-travelling space-craft? On the outside it looks like any other-sized telephone booth — small! Large enough for only one person to stand in it. But when you step inside it, it is a huge building complete with control centre and living quarters. On the outside the church looks like a building — fancy at that. But the church is much bigger than that. It is a people called out to think big, to do great things for God, to let God’s light shine through us to enlighten the whole world. We let God’s light shine through us by being who we are, each of us unique, precious, beloved.

The last module of learning in Confirmation focused on the Doctrine of the Holy Trinity. Fascinating to see how differently we approach this complex and often dumbfounding concept of one God in three persons. God the Father — his job is to create us; God the Son (Jesus) — his job is to save us; God the Holy Spirit — her job is to empower us. One God in three persons. We looked through several magazines and clipped out pictures to demonstrate what each of us felt related to the function of each of the three persons of God.

And the various photos we chose represent our individual interpretations of the work of the Triune God. These expressions and interpretations are as diverse as each of us are. “Now, there are varieties of services, but the same Lord; and there are varities of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good” (1 Cor 12).  Indeed, we are richer than we think!

God has gifted each one of you in a unique and special way for God’s good purposes and for the common good. Because all of these interpretations, and various services and activities when taken together, as a whole, brings us closer to the truth. Not one, but all of the diverse expressions of faith that we are, together, reflects God’s will and God’s truth.

All of who you will be someday, grown up, you already have within you. God has given you a great gift, planted within your heart, the seed of faith and the Holy Spirit. We need only to learn to be open to that gift, and to experience God’s love first hand. That is our task in life.

And when the waters get too turbulent for us to handle and we feel our boat will sink, don’t forget: Jesus stands at the shore watching us; and when we need him, he won’t just stand at a distance; he will jump right in there, swim to us, and hold us through the storm. Life is an adventure; the life of faith is always moving us like that river to reach out to all the world in the love of Jesus.

A Royal Wedding

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Colossians 3:12-17 ” … above all clothe yourselves with love …. ”

Over this past spring and summer, Canadians especially have been enamored by both the royal wedding and royal visit to Canada by Prince William and Kate Middleton. They have become an iconic couple and are changing the perception of the Monarchy especially for younger generations.

Their wedding was royal, to be sure — what with all the pomp and circumstance and world-wide media attention.

If you can imagine with me the various media images of the couple you have seen, would you not agree that what they are wearing bears significantly on their royal identity? Of who they are? After all, who but royalty would don a wedding dress designed by Sarah Burton costing half a million dollars?

Well, just for the record, you two look beautiful, and everything about today — what you are wearing and what is happening here makes you a Prince and Princess in the Kingdom of God. Maybe in the eyes of the world — at least according to the tradition surrounding the Monarchy — you are not a Royal Couple. But, make no mistake about it, in God’s eyes — you are precious, you are beloved, and you are blessed.

On their wedding, Kate and William officially became the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge; on this day, you arrived here as if crowns have already been placed upon your heads.

The Holy Scriptures call us to put on clothing befitting the people of God. What we wear, so to speak, how we behave, what people notice about us – these are all born from an inner source. Saint Paul in his letter to the Ephesians (chapter 4) calls us to be strengthened in our “inner being”.

None of us gathered here may be able to afford a Sarah Burton wedding dress for people to take notice. But when we clothe ourselves with “compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience .. and above all love … bearing with one another … and forgiving others”, people will also take notice. When we clothe our lives with these qualities, well, then, we are the royalty of God in the world, the royal priesthood.

Despite all the foofaraw surrounding the wedding of Kate and William, many observers did not fail to notice the most significant moment in the exchange of vows between them. At that moment, what people noticed were the authentic, simple, heart-felt, quiet and mutual expressions of love between the two of them.

“Above all clothe yourself with love.” Love knows no hierarchy. The capacity to love is a gift we all hold in our hearts. The capability to love is the only qualification for royalty in God’s eyes. And this gift will give you a much greater resource than an expensive wedding dress, to deal with all the challenges that married life brings.

It is the love and grace of God born in your hearts that will help you navigate together through the challenges, disappointments, failures, joys and sorrows that life brings to us all. When things don’t go our way, or when things aren’t perfect in the world’s eyes, the gift of grace will help you see things for what they are, and see other people for who they are — God’s precious creation, God’s beloved people.

Today, you present this truth in your coming together to affirm that it is indeed the gift of God’s love that binds you to one another. It is the gift of God’s grace that ultimately defines your marriage. It is the gift of God’s love that will ultimately transform our lives for the better, and through us, the world.

Thanks be to God.

Mutuality in Leadership

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T. S. Eliot wrote a prayer: “Teach us to care and not to care.” I appreciate such candid, honest and real words to describe effective public service leadership. Applying to teachers, care-givers in medical institutions, spiritual guides, pastors and priests, service providers, etc. –to affirm the necessity for some degree of detachment from the service relationship is, quite frankly, refreshing and liberating. We get in trouble when we try to do too much, when we overextend, overfunction, and play God.

We, especially in the church, are burdened by a culture of intervention and control. We over-state our responsibility in “saving” the person from their undesirable, unfortunate situation, whatever it is. We thus create co-dependencies in our caregiving: The pastor has a need to be needed and is even unaware of this need, except feeling very smug and satisfied, taking all the acclaim for successfully intervening and making it better for the one “in need”; on the other hand, the one coming for help relinquishes most if not all responsbility for their own healing: “I felt healthy until the doctor told me I was sick.” (The doctor isn’t the source of your illness!)

In order for any relationship to work, including marriage, mutuality is the key. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Heard that before? What you want from another, you need to give to the other.

I notice that in healthy pastor-congregation relationships, where there is positive growth, where there is evidence of health and joy — usually both parties (pastor AND congregant) have taken some responsbility in building and maintaining that relationship. This is not a one-way street when it comes to positive care-giving. Henri Nouwen famously penned the term “the wounded healer” to describe the healing that occurs mutually between the one supposedly giving and the one supposedly receiving the care.

An important question I pursue in assessing and following through on any situation where some kind of service is requested, is :”What measure of responsibility is the seeker/client willing to give both into the process of their own health and into relationship with the one providing the care (i.e. the leader)?” By addressing the seeker’s willingness to engage personally and claim some degree of resposibility for the relationship of care-giving, I am able to determine often the overall effectiveness that work.

Because in care-giving, the outcome of any work is beyond the control, direction and intervention of any one individual. If anything, healing and
satisfaction come when all parties concerned do their part in the process.

Easter 7A – We Belong

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In the so-called farewell discourse occupying the mid-teen chapters of the Gospel of John, Jesus gives his disciples, shall we say, his “famous last words” to them. I would take these instructions to be of particular importance. These words must be received as we would from a coach giving players a pep talk prior to a championship game, or the speech of a politician to the nation on the eve of war, or the erudition of a military general prior to leading his troops into battle, or even the words spoken at the death-bed of a loved one.

Perhaps more so the latter because Jesus knew he was leaving them shortly. Following his death, resurrection and ascension, he will no longer be present in the same way with those on earth. A significant shift is about to take place in the manner with which Jesus will relate to his disciples for the rest of time — no longer in bodily, physical form but through the Holy Spirit and in the Sacrament of the Holy Meal.

A certain urgency therefore accompanies a reading of John 17, known as the “high priestly prayer” of Jesus; and hence we need to pay particular attention to these words. What Jesus prays here drives straight to the heart of his essential teaching and message.

Jesus knows that his impending departure runs the risk of dividing the on-earth communion of believers — or at least setting a divisive tone in the community of faith. Therefore Jesus prays for their unity, “that they may be one”. This is decidedly a corporate blessing; Jesus prays for the community to be united. A significant point.

Jesus, as well as his successing leaders of the church on earth, address their words not to individuals but to a community.

When the Holy Spirit came to the disciples in Jerusalem, the text from Acts 2:1 is clear to state that they were “gathered” when the flames of fire descended and the wind rushed in. While certainly God can inspire us through the Holy Spirit when we are by ourselves (God can doing anything God wants!), Jesus’ prayer binds us into community. The Holy Spirit that proceeds from the Son (Nicene Creed) brings us together in the love of Jesus. While inspiration from God may come to us when we are alone, that gift is expressed, validated and empowered for the sake of God’s mission only in the community of faith. Remember, the letters of Saint Paul — the vast majority of them — are a word to a community, not to individuals (eg. in Corinth, Rome, Ephesus, Thessaloniki, Colossae, Philippi, etc.). Even Peter connects faith in Jesus as being expressed within community: He refers not to a chosen human leader, but a chosen race; not to a royal priest, but a royal priesthood; not to a holy city, but a holy nation; not to one person who belongs, but God’s own people. (1 Peter 2)

We still belong, even though tempted from time to time to leave the community and strike out “on our own”. We still belong, even though at times disillusioned and disappointed with the church, needing a “time out” for a while. But let us never forget that any individual decision we make in good faith will also affect the community. We are never an island unto ourselves; we are affected by, and affect the church with all our decisions to leave or to stay. In other words, it’s not about us, individually. It’s about something much greater than the sum of individual parts — much greater than the sum of individual opinions. We are after all a church without walls, a church not defined by building but by bodies — living bodies. A church is people, defined by relationships of love in Christ Jesus.

An important question of faith, I believe, is to ask: Where do I belong? Where is my faith demonstrated in acts of grace, love, kindness, and compassion according to the Gospel of Jesus Christ — with and to others? Where do I belong?

The message inbedded and relevant to us today from John 17 is precisely that in the prayer of Jesus — we all belong. Despite our differing opinions. Despite our diverse ways of interpreting Scripture. Despite all our differences — we belong to the church, the Body of Christ. Our unity for which Christ prays does not depend on us but on the blessing of God which we have already received.

What is the basis of our belonging? Many of you got up very early in the morning last month to watch live the wedding of the royal couple, Kate and William. The pomp, expense and vast, public exposure of the event did not subdue, I believe, what many observed in the quiet exchange of vows between them. Despite the excessiveness of their clothing, the scrutiny and destraction of the media, and caricature nature of the event, what people commented on afterward was the authentic, common, heartfelt mutual expressions of love between the two of them.

Love knows no hierarchy nor division. Everyone has the capacity to love, everyone. And this is the only qualification for priesthood in the church. We are all priests. Martin Luther first coined that phrase that has come to be a doctrinal hallmark of the Reformation: we are in Christ a “priesthood of all believers”. We have all received grace and hold in our hearts the capacity to love. We can love one another, each and everyone of us. That is how and why we belong. This is the basis of our unity.

Let us take seriously the “famous last words” of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Let us remain united because we already belong, and because we are a chosen race, a royal preisthood, a holy nation, God’s own people!

Easter 5A – Truth be Told

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Psalm 31:5 — Into your hands I commend my spirit, for you have redeemed me, O Lord, God of truth.

John 14 — Jesus said, “Do not let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me …. I go to prepare a place for you …. Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life …”

In the Gospel reading from John and in the Psalm for today the word “truth” appears in key verses of those passages from the Bible: Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth, and the life ….” The Psalmist confesses faith amidst hardship: “Into your hands I commend my spirit, for you have redeemed me, O Lord, God of truth.”

How do we come to know the truth? From the appointed scriptures on this fifth Sunday of Easter — taken together — there is a sense that truth-knowing is discovered and proclaimed not in ideal, perfect scenarios born from our wishes and dreams, but from paying attention right in the middle of experiencing difficulties and challenges of life. And these places of our lives are not easy places in which to stay. Because we’re always trying to get out of those places — places of dis-connection, dis-orientation, transition, fear, anxiety, surrender and loss. And understandable so.

If there is any stage of life most closely associated with “transition” — it is those tumultuous teen years. So, teenagers can teach us something about how to live in the “inbetween” times and spaces of our lives. They know this space: No longer in the relative safety of childhood, and now crossing into the terrain of adulthood.

The inbetween spaces of life are like doorframes — a space between rooms, a portal joining inside and outside, this room and that hallway or other room. These are not spaces we normally think to spend lots of time in; in all honesty we don’t think twice about moving as quickly as possible through that space. Perhaps that is one reason so many people don’t have a lot of patience for teenagers.

One of our young children loves to spend time standing in door frames or sitting on staircases. This drives Daddy crazy. “Either you’re out or your in,” I keep telling her. “Close the door.” “Don’t play on the staircase! Stay downstairs, or upstairs; don’t just be moving inbetween all the time!” Yup, children and teenagers can teach us adults a thing or two about living in the inbetweens of life.

The disciples of Jesus had some-how to come to terms with their shattered dreams — dreams of a messianic strongman that would come and rescue them from Roman occupation in 1st century Palestine. In the time surrounding Jesus’ death and resurrection, the disciples were living in a time of transition and change.

But not only are we talking about “dreams shattered”, but also “hearts broken”. Here, we enter more into the emotional arena of our lives. A tricky terrain, to be sure. But a place that, since ancient times among the Hebrew people of God, has been considered the centre of our being: the heart.

The message in this Easter season invites us to enter into that inbetween space of finding the way amidst our broken hearts, our disappointments, our failures, our fears and anxieties. Is there a cure for heart dis-ease? The message of Easter is an invitation to finding the places where the risen and living God in Jesus guides and leads us beyond places of despair, and into a future of hope and wholeness in community with God and one another.

Discovering, or re-discovering, the truth about Jesus and God the Father, as I said, comes first not from a place of security and perceived strength. But from exactly the opposite kinds of circumstances in our lives. The Psalmist, time and time again, captures this spiritual and faithful reality. In Psalm 31, the Psalmist is able to confess the God of truth only by coming through the space and way of great distress, suffering and anxiety. That passage concludes with the claim of faith: “Into your hands I commend my spirit, for you have redeemed me, O Lord, God of truth.” The Psalmist is able to believe in the truth of God only after embracing that undesired, un-sought-after existential angst of being, and surrendering all of it to God. Not easy.

Because sometimes we want to hold on to it, wallow in it, remain stuck in the rut of despair and anguish. Perhaps because it’s familiar ground. But it is precisely in this inbetween place where we discover and then confess the truth of the gracious, loving, merciful and hope-giving Christian God in Christ Jesus.

In a prayerful and faithful re-telling of Psalm 31, Leslie Brandt (“Psalms Now”, Concordia Publishing House) writes, “Maybe it was Your doing, Lord. It is Your way of bringing me back to home port, of correcting my focus and reassessing my goals.” She speaks, of course, of those heart-breaking failures and losses not as God-caused events, but as natural life circumstances in which God’s purposes and presence are born anew.

In the Gospel reading from John chapter 14, Jesus opens this passage with those comforting and well-known words often recited at funerals: “Let not your hearts be troubled …”, and then goes on to create that popular image of Jesus going to prepare a place for us all.

The disciples, however, want to cling to the perceived safety of an actual, geographic location. Thomas, for one, wants to know where Jesus is going and how to go there with him. Their understanding of “place” is bound by measurable and observable criteria. Their understanding of a “home” is equated with the safety of familiar, concrete places and spaces.

Throughout the Gospel of John, however, place and location are used simply as metaphors for the intimacy of a close relationship: For example, the sheep are placed close the the shepherd; Jesus is close to the heart of God the Father. As the disciples are gathered in the Upper Room sharing a meal that signifies Jesus’ soon bodily departure from them, Jesus assures his friends and followers that there will always be a place with plenty of rooms for them. Their relationship with Jesus will continue, even as it changes. Their relationship with Jesus will continue, even beyond suffering and death. They will not be forgotten as they remember him every time they share in the Holy Meal.

The church, to be sure, lives in a time of transition. These very decades we occupy comprise a time of living in the inbetween. Something old is passing. Something new is beckoning. It is the time of not-yet-but-soon-to-be. It is frought with fear and anxiety, suffering and loss.

Yet, it is the place and space where Jesus is present. Jesus’ farewell discourse to the disciples is not just a nice thing he says to make them feel good, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” It is a direction to the disciples’ will. Jesus is giving them a command to stand firm, even when their hearts are breaking for their coming loss.

Jesus is real, and close by, even as everything changes, even as your relationship with Jesus changes, even as everything around us changes. This is the divine promise. This is the truth: Jesus is still with us.

And that is why we gather week after week to celebrate the presence of Jesus in the Holy Communion. In our tasting and eating and seeing the bread and the cup, we constitute — literally — the church. In our participation of the Holy Meal, we receive the new life of the risen Christ. In the eating and drinking, we “taste” and “see” that the Lord is good! Our hunger for God’s intimacy is satisfied. We are a community fed by God, so that we can with hearts of thanksgiving and hope, feed a hungry world.

In so doing and being, we re-discover the truth of God, find a way beyond our heart dis-ease, and live in the community that God calls us to and empowers us in his Spirit to share with the world.

How do we come to know the truth? We know the truth by coming together. We know the truth by engaging and embracing the sometimes messy situations of interacting and being together. Notice, in the scripture from 1st Peter, the address is given not to an individual, but to an assembled people; Together, we are then in truth, “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people…” (1 Peter 2:9) Together, in this time of transition, we will re-discover the way, the truth, and the life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Amen.

Remembering a loved one

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Henry David Thoreau wrote, “In my youth, before I lost any of my senses, I can remember that I was all alive.”

From the wisdom book of Ecclesiastes, “For everything there is a season, a time for everything under heaven … a time to live and a time to die …”

We judge an experience not simply by the duration of it, but by the intensity of it. Young people, especially, can pack a whole of living into a single hour, or day. When I spend time at one of my favourite places, the beach, I often notice children at play. Every object they find is picked up and examined closely. Even the most ordinary object, which many of us older folks wouldn’t even notice, becomes an object of wonder to them, and gets their undivided attention. I marvel at their concentration, their focused dedication to their tasks. For them time has ceased to exist.

We gather on the beach today to remember one who enjoyed this place very much. We are invited by those who have throughout history lived very close to the land, to feel the earth, to be grounded in this moment, to be in touch with ourselves, one another and the earth upon which we stand. This is indeed the time and the place to be today. In a Christian prayer we recite every week before the Holy Meal, we affirm this grounding in God wherever and whenever we are: “It is indeed right and salutary that we should at all times and in all places give thanks and praise to God …”

For those who knew her well, I am certain you can remember times in her life when she lived fully, when she was “all alive”, and grounded in the moments of her life. And in this way she, even because of her death, will continue to teach us the value of living for each day given to us. So that life is not merely about getting to the next stage, or achieving the higher goal, or acquiring the next, best thing. Because when life is reduced to the rat race that only serves to pull us away from the present moment and one another, that divides our attention and blinds our sight to that which is — we no longer live.

Death has, in a sense, separated us from our loved one. But the separation is not complete. That separation which we grieve today is not unlike the separation between this shoreline and those banks across the river. What unites that shore-line with this one? The water, of course. “What can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus?” asks Saint Paul of the New Testament. Nothing can. In the love of God, in the waters of life and love, we are all connected — forever.

Kahlil Gibran is often quoted at ceremonies affirming the love between people. We often focus on the union, the inseparateness between those that love each other dearly. But a theme that runs through his poetry and wisdom is a prayer: “Let there be spaces in your togetherness.” Those spaces are important to honour and respect. “Love one another,” he continues, but let that love be more like “a moving sea between the shores of your souls … For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.”

The water will always run between the shores of our souls, between us and those we have lost. In Christian love and faith, nevertheless, we remain united with our loved one even in death. The love of God keeps our spirits united, our memories of her solid in our hearts.

God is not removed from this time and this place. God is not removed from our suffering just as God is not removed from our joy and thanksgiving. God is not “out there”, but rather — in the words of theologian Paul Tillich — God is the very “ground of our being”. God is here and we can experience the fullness of God in the things we do and in the people we meet in this time and in this place. Today. Now. Thanks be to God.

Easter 2A – Faith and Doubt

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In Canada we go to the polls tomorrow in another federal election. Will you vote?

I heard this past week the story of a former pastor of a Lutheran church in Belleville who immigrated from a former Eastern bloc nation during the Cold War era. In a sermon he gave prior to an election campaign now decades ago, he shared with the congregation how voting was done back in his home country during the Communist reign: “There was only one name on the ballot,” he said, “and it didn’t make any sense at all. But we had to go, and put a check mark beside that person’s name. God forbid, you did anything besides that.”

The pastor went on to describe his joy and pride to live in a country where he could now vote for one person among several. He had a choice. He, along with all other citizens, had been given the power to choose the government! This was amazing for him.  And he looked forward to election day in Canada.

Someone listening to his sermon then called out, “But Pastor, who should we vote for?” The pastor didn’t miss a beat; he smiled and said, “We’re not that kind of church!” In other words, not to tell you what to do, but to encourage your belief and participation in the process.

If only all Canadians shared his enthusiasm and belief in our electoral system! If only all Canadians believed in the value of and appreciated the democratic freedom we have in the vote. That is what organizations such as Fair Vote, Apathy is Boring, and Student Vote are trying to resurrect, especially among younger generations of Canadians.

Is the fact that voter turnout was the lowest in Canadian history last time around due to a growing doubt, cynicism and despair among the electorate?

Is this malaise true also for us who struggle with our religion, faith, and the institution of the church? Does church attendance and belief in the risen Jesus suffer from a similar prevailing doubt, cynicism and despair? Perhaps there are more among us who can relate and sympathize with the disciple, Thomas. Because sometimes, when we experience the dark night of the soul, when we go through rough times and fall to despair — it’s really hard to believe! So, in those times, what should we do?

There is a profound tale from the Desert Fathers of Christian antiquity that explains why just doing it; that is, practising your faith makes sense even in spite of questions without answers:

A young monk approached an older, more adept one and asked, “Father, I am having trouble remembering the instructions that I have been given about living the spiritual life. I ask questions and I listen to the answers and I do what is asked of me, but then, I almost just as quickly forget what I’ve been told! What is the point to trying to learn if I am so simple-minded? Why should I practice when I do not know for certain what is true? Maybe I should just return to my worldly life.”

The old monk points to two empty bottles on a nearby table. “Take those two bottles. Fill one completely with the oil that we use for our lampstands. As for the other, leave it empty, as it was.”

The young man obediently did as he was told.

Then the old monk said, “Now, take the bottle full of oil and pour it back where it was.” The younger man again did as he was told.

“Do it again,” the elder instructed. “Fill that same bottle that you filled before, once again with oil.” And again he told him to empty the bottle once it was filled. This went on for more than an hour, over and over. Meanwhile the empty bottle sat empty.

With patience, the young man kept doing as he was told. It just so happened that this novice’s job in the community was to clean bottles used for holding lamp oil. He knew all about bottles and oil.

After a while, as they sat together looking on the two bottles now empty, the old monk said, “Please tell me, my son, what you see.”

“I see one bottle that has not held any oil and it is only dusty and dry,” the novice answered.

“But the bottle that I have filled, unfilled, and refilled many times is clean, shining and coated with the sweetness of oil.”

“Precisely!” the old man replied. “In the same way, you benefit from doing these spiritual things even if they challenge you and cause you to question. Whether you realize it immediately or not, over time they will change you. Filling yourself with these oils will leave you fragranced.”

The doubting Thomas did just that. Even though he questioned and doubted, fell to despair and disassociated himself from his community of faith for a time, he just needed to show up again, and yes, initially, just go through the motions. Thank God he did! Jesus appeared a second time to the gathered disciples when Thomas happened to be there. And then Jesus gave Thomas what he needed.

What did Thomas need? Thomas needed to get out of his head. It was his ideas about Jesus that created his cyncism and doubt. The rationalizations and arguments for and against made the resurrection a matter of intellectual debate for him. The result should not surprise us:  The result of getting lost in all the mental gymnastics was that Thomas left his community of faith, disappointed, discouraged and frustrated after the burial of Jesus.

Jesus gave Thomas what he needed: He needed to experience the living Lord, personally. His encounter with Jesus brought Thomas down from his head into his heart. Not only did Jesus speak to Thomas — thus appealing to his head — he asked Thomas to touch his wounded side and hands. Thomas was then able to ground his experience of Jesus in his own skin, his body. That loving touch trigged an emotional, affective response from Thomas. Only then was he able to confess his true belief from the mind and heart: “My Lord and my God!”

Jesus knew what Thomas needed, and gave it to him. It likely wasn’t something Thomas was aware he needed. Yes, he wanted proof, but likely more to satisfy some intellectual debate. Was he expecting to be moved emotionally into to a deeper, personal and renewed relationship with Jesus?

And to each of us, the living Lord responds faithfully to what we need. The assigned texts for this time in the church year imply that God knows our varied needs. Psalm 16 begins with unequivocal confession and praise: “You are my Lord”; what follows is like a faith diary, a journal cataloguing his faith and trust in the ups and downs of life. Conversely, the Gospel writer ends this resurrection account (John 20:19-31) by Thomas’ climactic confession: “My Lord and my God!”  God knows what we need and when we need it: Do some of us start with a strong faith, and then move through both the joys and sadness of life, ‘working out’ our salvation through it all (like the Psalmist)? Or, do we start from a place of doubt and disbelief, and then work and wait toward believing (like Thomas)?

Whatever the case, we may be assured that though Christ is risen from the dead and is alive today, faith and doubt still go hand in hand for us. Whether we’ve been Christians all our lives, or we discovered the love and embrace of Christ for us only late in life — to pretend that doubt has no place in the believer’s life is folly. For we know that what we resist persists, and then controls us. But when we can appreciate the role of doubt in our lives, confess it and hold it, authentic faith can spring up by the grace of God. The gift of faith will give us the strength to make a small, simple step in the right direction.

I wonder what it would be like if the decisions we made in our lives sprung more from what we felt we needed to do, instead of what we wanted to do all the time. What if we did the right thing rather than always take the easy, self-serving way? What if we were at least able to distinguish our needs from our wants? And then acted on this discernment?

Perhaps, for one thing, our prayer lives would find vitality again. Because we know that despite our unbelief and misguided compulsions, our intercessions are nevertheless heard and acted upon by a loving and living God who will give us what we need.

Thanks be to God!

For reflection this week, pray over the words of scripture — specifically Psalm 16 and John 20:19-31