Tag Archives: Congregations

Dare to be you

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In my life as an identical twin, unrealistic expectations of my twin-hood abounded. On the one hand, people presumed my brother and I are identical — I mean perfectly duplicate copies of each other. On the other hand, people loved to compare and contrast, presuming — as I always have — that there are inherent differences.

The ‘identical twin’ designation is nevertheless a misnomer. Being an identical twin doesn’t mean I am a copy-cutter, mirror-image of my twin brother David. We are actually different!

And yet, my twin identity has contributed — I think — to some attitudes with which I’ve lived most of my life, attitudes that may not have been entirely helpful to my growth and maturity and development, spiritual and otherwise.

Particularly, I remember how important it was for me to recognize my own path, my own unique identity — apart from David’s. Until I was able to claim a unique place within the fabric of my family, my community of friends and church I often felt compelled to incessantly compare myself to David, which was exhausting and emotionally draining.

Until I could say to myself that “I am who I am” on my own two feet, I would too easily slip into negativity and self-rejection. Either because I was not good enough compared to David, or I had to be someone that I wasn’t, or better than I was. Or, relish in the victory that I beat out David in some way — for the moment, anyway!

From this kind of thinking emerges a work ethic, which is not unlike what many of us have likely heard or told ourselves growing up: “Try harder!” “You’re no good the way you are; you have to try to be something and someone that you aren’t now.” The striving and activity characterizing religion today has as its starting point: self-negation, self-rejection. “I’m no good the way I am; I have to get better.” Or, “we’re not good the way we are; we have to get better.”

In and of itself, this motivation is not bad. A yearning for completion, for healing and growth, for communion with God and one another is good and healthy. Denying our brokenness and sin is dangerous and ultimately destructive.

But when this desire becomes ego-centric in expressions of false humility or justifications for staying stuck — mired in a pious negativity (“I/we can’t do that; I’m/we’re no good” — we can so easily miss recognizing the whole point of our journeys of faith (“Yes I/we can, because of God’s grace and love!”).

Christians believe we are all made in the image of God (Genesis 1:27); we all have the imprint of God on our lives. But everyone doesn’t manifest the same divine qualities. Even identical twins!

Each of us reflects a unique aspect of God’s character. And this truth results in different gifts, different energies. Different ways of dealing with a similar situation, even. All good. All part of the beautiful diversity of creation.

Sometimes I wonder whether we haven’t confused the voice of brokenness and sin in each of us with our diversity. That just because you do something differently from me, just because you react in a different way to a situation we both face, just because you are different from me — that somehow either I have the right way and you have the wrong way, either you are sinful and I am righteous or vice versa, or we’re better than them.

What if by digging a bit deeper we recognize a shared truth about ourselves and our Lord? What if by inquiring a bit further we discover that it’s not that we’re better than them, but that they have simply gone about it in a different way — a way with which we’re merely unfamiliar. What if it’s not either/or? What if it’s both/and? And this awareness starts, I believe, not by insisting on conformity in the church, but by acknowledging, recognizing and celebrating our diversity.

Our diversity and variety make us whole and complete, as the Body of Christ (1 Corinthians 12). All parts are needed for the health of the Body, as Paul famously writes in his letter to the Corinthian Church. We can’t all be eyes, or we wouldn’t have a body. We can’t all be legs; that would look like a very funny body! We can’t all be hair, or we would be Tribbles on an old Star Trek episode — the Trouble with Tribbles! We are not like-minded people even though we belong to the same church — but we never were!

And that’s good! The way it ought to be!

During our weekly lectionary study, some of you noticed that John seemed particularly interested in mentioning that the disciples caught precisely 153 fish after following the instruction from Jesus to throw the net on the right side of the boat (John 21:1-19). Why mention an exact number: 153? Why not simply write: “They caught a whole mother-lode of fish!”?

Initially I just thought John throws a number out there simply to indicate that the disciples counted all the fish that would potentially be sold on the market, as professional fishers would do. This is not some made-up story, after all. This post-resurrection account is grounded in the economic reality of the day. These fishermen have to make a living off the fish they catch, right?

An early thinker, writer and leader in the church, Jerome, wrote in the fifth century that at the time it was assumed that there was a grand total of 153 species of fish. He went on to interpret that the 153 was a reference to the “completeness” of the church, which embraces all people (p.11, Richard Rohr, The Enneagram: A Christian Perspective). Suffice it to say, the citing of a number here is not arbitrary, but has a symbolic value and is therefore intentionally written such.

In the Gospel story, we witness two very different responses to Jesus in Peter and John: Peter, consistent with his impulsive character, jumps in the water and swims to Jesus. He’s all about action.

John, on the other hand, is the first to recognize that it is the Lord (v.7). His gift is recognition. What gift is this, you might ask? A very important one, evidently: It wasn’t just Mary who couldn’t at first recognize the risen Lord standing right in front of her in the garden the morning of the resurrection (20:11-18). In the locked, upper room the text suggests the frightened disciples don’t immediately recognize it is Jesus who comes and says, “Peace be with you”; it isn’t until they see his wounds that they can confess who he is (20:19-29). In Luke’s account of the post-resurrection appearances, the twins walked about ten kilometers from Jerusalem to Emmaus talking to a stranger they didn’t recognize was Jesus himself! (Luke 24:13-35). Being able to recognize the living Jesus in our midst, in the course of our daily lives — this is a gift. And John has it.

Peter is about action. John is about understanding. John doesn’t jump in the water and swim to shore. Peter doesn’t reflect, contemplate and perceive. Each does their part. Both have their unique gifts to bring to the disciples’ collective experience of the risen Lord. One without the other is inadequate. One is not better than the other. Both are equally valuable, even though they represent such diverse expressions of faith.

The church today needs a variety of gifts in order to respond fully to Christ’s presence in the world today, and in our lives. The church today — we — need to set aside our claims of priority and work together in patience, forgiveness and devotion to Jesus Christ who is alive! That goes not only for us in our congregation, but in terms of how we relate to other congregations, our Synod, our national church, other Lutheran and non-Lutheran denominations.

What are our unique gifts? What do we bring to the table? What are the gifts in those we meet who are very different from us?

Let’s dare to be who we are! Let’s embrace our individuality!

Doubting Thomas – reconciled

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Douglas “Pete” Peterson was a US Air force pilot who during the Vietnam War flew hundreds of bombing missions over North Vietnam. Then in September 1966 his plane was hit by a missile and he had to eject, landing with broken bones in a Mango tree near a small village.

Knowing who this man was and where he came from, the angry villagers paraded him around town like a hunting trophy. Treating him like dirt, they dragged him down dusty roads and jeered and taunted him, eventually landing him in the Prisoner of War jail otherwise known to American POWs as the “Hanoi Hilton”. There he spent the next several years of his life until finally released in the mid-seventies.

Reflecting on his harrowing ordeal years later, Pete Peterson said that he had no intention of becoming a “career POW” and that God had not saved his life for him to be angry.

He was appointed by then President Clinton to be the first US ambassador to Vietnam since the war. It was awkward for both parties – first for the Vietnamese to receive a man who had killed many of their military and civilian population during those countless bombing raids.

On the other hand, for Peterson it was a challenge to be a diplomat working with the Vietnamese government who were ultimately responsible for the “lost” years of his life enduring torture and threat of death in the “Hanoi Hilton”.

A special moment came four months after he took up his post in May 1997. On the 10th of September – the same day he had been shot down 31 years earlier – Peterson revisited An Doai, the village where he had been taken prisoner.

He drank tea with Nguyen Viet Chop and Nguyen Danh Xinh – two of the men who had dragged him back to the village through the rice paddies. And he walked through the fields, holding hands with the grandson of one of his former captors, to the mango tree in which he had fallen 31 years earlier.

Peterson said that day: “I return here not to re-live what was probably the most unhappy day of my life, but to signify to the entire world that reconciliation is not only possible but absolutely the way to reach out.”

In his four years as Ambassador, Peterson became – in the words of one reporter – a “billboard for reconciliation”. Peterson himself confessed that working for the Vietnamese on behalf of the United States, he had to “check hate at the door”.

And what did reconciliation, love and grace accomplish?

He was instrumental in advocating for a helmet law for cyclists and moped riders in Vietnam. Also, a study he helped set up discovered that the leading cause of death among children in Vietnam was not disease, but accidental drowning.

It was calculated that in Vietnam every hour one toddler drowned. A large portion of Vietnam is covered in lakes and rivers and rice paddies. Also most people can’t swim – so parents don’t teach their children. The organization Peterson helped found lobbied policy makers so that today, the Vietnamese government has instituted swimming lessons in the schools with the hope that by 2020 every Vietnamese child leaving secondary school will be able to swim.

Today in the Gospel text we read the story about the “Doubting Thomas” (John 20:19-31). Often our first thoughts about this story center on the question of doubt in a life of faith; “Do not doubt but believe!” is the thematic call-sign for this annual Easter story.

The end of the story nevertheless implies a very important theme we may overlook. While we don’t know for certain, I believe it is fair to assume that Thomas is reconciled to his community of faith.

There’s a moving scene in the 2003 film, “The Gospel of John” (directed by Philip Saville), where Thomas returns to his community of faith in the upper room. He comes back a week later – how and why we really don’t know. Perhaps, after sensing the futility of remaining cut off from them, he was going to give his cohorts a second chance. Perhaps he “checked hatred at the door” and felt he had nothing to lose by showing up and seeing first hand if what they said was true: that Jesus was alive.

And when Jesus does appear and gives personal attention to Thomas, Thomas weeps. Watching this scene, you can feel the emotional release: all the pent up anger, fear and cynicism just surrendered in the wash of Jesus’ love and compassion for Thomas. “My Lord, and my God” Thomas is finally able to confess. His confession signals his reconciliation with Jesus and with his community of faith.

God is about reconciliation. God’s mission on earth is about reconciling those who have been divided. Paul calls it the “ministry of reconciliation” (2 Corinthians 5). Where reconciliation happens – as it did for Thomas and Jesus in the Upper Room two thousand years ago; as it did for Pete Peterson and Nguyen Viet Chop in a Vietnamese rice field sixteen years ago – there God is.

So let us pray for, and work towards, reconciliation: Where there is division and hatred, may God’s grace and love and forgiveness heal, restore and reconcile. The Easter message is about second chances, new beginnings, new life, new opportunities, starting over. It was for Thomas and Jesus. It was for Pete Peterson and the Vietnamese.

May it be for us, as well.

You can read the entire, moving story of Pete Peterson in BBC News Magazine, 22 March 2013, “Pete Peterson: The exPOW teaching Vietnam how to swim” by William Kremer, BBC World Service

Unworthy (and worthy!)

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Remember the “tech bubble” that collapsed thirteen years ago? What about the “housing bubble” of 2007 in the United States, and a second “tech bubble” some see looming now; not to mention housing prices in Canada? Is the bubble going to burst? Again?

But what about another bubble that we may be even more apprehensive to talk about – the decline of “establishment Christianity” North America? One congregation at a time, one closed school, one left-behind building, and even many mega-churches that are shattering like the walls of a bubble.

You may react – that I am being overly negative and it’s really not all that bad so long as we can continue to spin our wheels, try to turn the clock back to 1950 and do things the way they used to be done in the past.

Do we consider the institutional church in 2013 a tree that will stand forever, a house built on solid rock, the very apple of God’s eye?

Jesus told this parable: “A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none.” (Luke 13.6)

In our individual, personal lives, bubbles burst all the time. Are you one of the very people whose bubbles are now bursting? Broken relationships. Ill-health. Financial ruin. Underemployment. Shattered dreams. Tragedy.

Indeed, the human condition is broken. Ever since the Fall, sin has steeped into the very fabric of our earthly existence.

According the Lutheran belief, even our good intentions and actions are tainted and ineffectual. In our weekly liturgy, we confess “that we are captive to sin and cannot free ourselves” (“Evangelical Lutheran Worship”, p.95, emphasis mine). There’s nothing we – by ourselves – can do to make things better. Older liturgies are even more hard-hitting: the “Book of Common Prayer” in the Anglican Church has it: “We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy table” (p.83). I am sure Lutherans can point to old prayer and liturgy books that basically suggest we are no better than worms crawling in the mud.

Let’s be careful in how we respond to the question of sin. For one thing, in the Gospel text today (Luke 13:1-9), Jesus rejects the kind of thinking that is easy: focusing on the sins of others as explanation, justification, for the bad things that happen. In response to the Pharisees, Jesus turns the question to them. You must repent for your sins.

In the baptismal liturgy of our church, we renounce the devil and all his empty promises – three times. When we declare together that we “renounce” the devil, we are also renouncing “all the forces that defy God” and “the powers of this world that rebel against God” (EvLW, p.229).

Not only is sin active in our individual lives – but in the world around us: in economic, political, social, religious institutions. Sin is not only individual; it is corporate. Sin is something we can do together in an organization, collectively. Admittedly it’s easier to point to a random, individual act. It’s convenient and easier to explain individual behavior gone bad. It’s much more ambiguous, complex and difficult to see sin as something shared in a group.

What do we, as a church, need to confess?

Are we counting on bubbles? Are we riding on the coat tails of previous generations of the faithful? Are we trying to draw closer to God without allowing God closer to us? Do we try to save ourselves through work and possessions? Do we ration our affections, pulling back from a deeply troubled world, staying inside where it is safe, praying when we feel like it, listening as little as possible, singing our songs and not God’s songs, treasuring our kind and not God’s people? (Thank you to Tom Ehrich for this insight and these words – from his blog, “On a Journey – Meditations on God in Daily Life”, Feb 27/2013).

Amidst the doom and gloom there is hope. The passage ends with hope. In the confession there is the realization of God’s mercy. Amidst the urgency to get things done, to do the right thing, to toil in all our striving, we are invited to pause. To stop, for a moment. Why?

Because we are that fig tree. Barren. Failed. Unworthy – or so it would seem (from the world’s perspective). Jesus is the gardener, who sees in us something worthy of grace. Jesus advocates on our behalf, to give us another chance. A holy, second chance. Jesus continues to work at the root of our lives, applying grace upon grace, getting his hands dirty – for us. Jesus will not give up on us.

In this dependence on God for all good things, we have to realize one, very important truth: It is not we who accomplish our growth, our life. All we need to do, is open our hearts, the ground of our being – as roots – to receive the nourishment of God’s grace. All we need to do, is look up to the sunshine, warming our being, inviting us to reach outward.

It is Jesus’ love for us that accomplishes whatever good that may come from our efforts. It is God’s work of love that accomplished our salvation in Jesus. I heard recently a wonderful quote from a teacher of Christian prayer: that God will not judge us according to our sins and failings, but for all the gifts we refused from the gracious hand of God. Our judgment is not based on our sinning – since we all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23) – but because we have refused, rejected and turned from the grace and love that God offers us anew, every day. Because God is giving us a second chance. What are we doing about that?

We yearn for more. Polls and studies reveal that people are hungry for God. Maybe it will take a cascade of bursting bubbles for us to see how little fruit we have yielded, how much God desires of us, and how lovingly God will work on our behalf for real life and love for all, not for bubbles.

The Fox and the Hen: Who’s running scared?

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Richard Rohr claims that “If you or the group to which you belong cannot laugh at yourself, then you are in trouble” (p.197, “On the Threshold of Transformation”). No better time to laugh a little than during Lent and especially on Annual General Meeting Day in the church, don’t you think?

So here’s one that will hopefully introduce us suitably to the animal imagery in the Gospel text today. It’s a chicken joke, but it’s not crossing the road!

Q: Why is it that chickens can’t talk? A: Because God doesn’t like fowl language!

The power of the imagery is indeed not in what is said, but what the mother hen in the Gospel text today (Luke 13:31-35) will do – even in the face of fear and adversity. Actions, in the life of faith, always speak louder than words.

The image of Jesus as a mother hen gathering her chicks reminds me of a common experience I see on the water described very well in the words of Canadian writer, humorist and preacher, Ralph Milton; he writes (in ‘Rumors: Sermon Helps for Preachers with a Sense of Humor’):

“I remember the image in Luke 13:34 every spring as I walk with my wife Bev along our creek, and delight in the clutches of fuzzy ducklings feeding along the edge of the water under the steady eye of the mama duck.

Sometimes at dusk we’d see mama duck tucking her babies under her wings where they will be as warm and safe as it is possible for wild ducks to be.

It is heartbreaking sometimes when a single duckling becomes separated from the clutch and goes whistling frantically for mama who is nowhere in sight. And when it spies Bev and me on the pathway, it goes skimming along the water in a desperate attempt to escape.

We always want to re-unite it with its mother. But mostly that’s impossible because we don’t know where mother duck is either. When we’ve been successful, it is by scaring the little bird to run away from us in the direction of the mother.”

Indeed, sometimes fear will motivate us – like the duckling – to run straight into the arms of a loving God.

But not Jesus. Jesus does not run in fear from Herod – the fox. Personified as a predatory fox, Herod is after Jesus. The Pharisees warn Jesus, tell him to “get away”. When you think about it, of all the artwork and creative depictions of Jesus over the centuries, have you ever seen Jesus “running away”? I certainly haven’t.

In the words of blogger Nancy Rockwell: “In Scripture and in art there are images of Jesus doing so many things – praying, walking, knocking on doors, gathering crowds, climbing hills, calling disciples, writing in the sand with his finger, sharing bread, preaching, weeping – but never running.” (in ‘Bite in the Apple’ 2013)

Because that is not what a mother hen does. Even under duress. Even when threatened by a fox. Rockwell continues: “The homely hen, who has lived in the backyards of humans for thousands of years, is selfless in her devotion to her little ones, even more defenseless than she. She has no defenses against the arts and wiles of foxes except her courage and commitment. She will rush to their sharp teeth and long claws, their looming shadow, their fierce bloodlust, throwing herself upon the bodies of her chicks, extending her wings over them, letting herself be devoured in the hope that they may be spared. She does not run from her fears.”

This is the God we worship today, on the day we review the ‘business’ of the church. We worship a God who is fearless, on account of a great, sacrificial love. “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear” (1 John 4:18). God’s love in Jesus, Christ’s protective grace and fierce loyalty, these are unmatched in all of creation. Incredible, especially when Jesus rebukes Jerusalem for its misguided ways – and then still (and again!) offers his unconditional love.

Above all, let us remember who is the God of this church. Not a fox, out to get us, out to scare us. But a God who wraps loving arms to hold us up, and be our strength, no matter what.

The integrity of Christian Unity

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Nearly two hundred Roman Catholics, Anglicans and United Church members packed the church in east-end Ottawa. It was the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. And these people gathered on a frigid Sunday afternoon in January to celebrate Christian unity.

My heart was warmed, since normally what the world sees and focuses upon is the doctrinal infighting and squabbling among Christians from different denominations. But today those differences were placed in the perspective of the underlying basis of our unity of purpose and mission in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Amen!

Since I was leading part of the prayers and my name and position printed in the order of service I was regarded the token Lutheran in the crowd. Following the service most of the assembly gathered in the parish hall for a festive reception. The energy level was high. People were happy to be together. Small talk and jovial conversation prevailed.

And then, wham!

Who I presumed was a member of the French-Roman-Catholic church approached me with a smile yet determined gate. With coffee in his steady hand, he said in French he wanted to ask me an important question that would demand my full attention. He instructed me to give him three honest and concise reasons why I was NOT Roman Catholic.

My eyes momentarily darted to the heavens for inspiration. Uhhhhh. Okay. Here it goes. From the heart. Concise. I spoke, in English:

1. I was raised in a Lutheran family — born, baptized, confirmed. My upbringing and much of my socialization during my formative years was within the Lutheran church context. That has to be the first, honest answer to his question;

Then I went on the offensive …. 🙂

2. I like the core Lutheran theological orientation originally posited by Martin Luther in the 16th century that we are saved by grace through faith. We are justified by grace alone, faith alone, scripture alone. And not by anything we must do to gain favor with God and with one another. This general approach towards all things church is my theological home, my lens through which I interpret, and my joy in believing and behaving. There isn’t, quite honestly and respectfully, another denomination whose theological emphasis rings quite as true to me as this core Lutheran position. Although I recognize places in other denominations where grace is believed and practiced as such, I choose the Lutheran theological message.

… And then I pushed further ….

3. Lutherans, I said, have taken the middle road in liturgical expression, worship style, even theological nuancing — usually somewhere in between the evangelical conservative, charismatic forms on the one side, and the more contemplative, formal Roman Catholics on the other. The rigidity around those divisions, born in the Reformation era, are dissipating over time, thankfully. And yet, I continue encountering faithful Lutherans — even young ones — who identify neither with extreme, cut-and-dry positions denouncing all ritual and mystery, but who will also not forfeit a reliance on scripture and reason altogether — for example, in celebrating the Sacraments. In other words, Lutherans have normally sought a balanced approach. This, I find, is healthy and good. Very Canadian, I might add.

When I finished, silence ensued in the space between us. Then, came the broad smile. He offered his hand and with a firm shake (which felt a lot like a German hand-shake!) he said: “Very well answered. Thank you. Can we talk more about this later?”

I bit my tongue to ask him why he was not Lutheran. Although I realize that in the give-and-take of inter-denominational dialogue the timing of these questions are critical to keeping the door open to continue the conversation. I look forward to that.

Often I hear from church folk that what they fear from Christian unity is a watering down of our own identity. What some people fear in engaging other Christians and spending more time with them is dissolution of what is important to us. What some fear is a loss of integrity.

I believe it’s the opposite. We don’t lose our integrity. We find it.

In encountering other Christians who are different from us we have the opportunity to distinguish — for ourselves, maybe more importantly — what defines us.

Have we forgotten? Have we become so used to, familiar and comfortable with what we do that we’ve beocme stuck in a rut and take it for granted? Have we forgotten what to say when someone asks us, precisely, about our faith?

The church finds itself at a crossroads today. And one of the ways the church will find its way is not to shy away from opportunities to be with other Christians who are different from us. Unfortunately one reaction to the uncertainty in the world today is to barracade ourselves within a fortress mentality — not seeing beyond the comfort of our church walls and practices. This is a tragic trajectory. Let us not follow the path to cocoon in comfort.

But in celebrating our unity, yes it is a challenge. We are drawn out of ourselves for a moment. And this may make us squirm for a while. But should we stay with it, we will find ourselves within that larger Christian family. And find opporunity to share with others from where we’ve come and what’s important to us. In the end we discover and experience our unity — inner and outer — in our diversity.

Be your colour, show your colour, together

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This ‘childrens chat’ can be used in worship during the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. Invite children to sit on the floor near the altar with you, the leader. Ask each child reach into a shoe box held above their heads to retrieve one coloured pencil. Include a variety of pencils in the box of various sizes, shapes and colours. Provide one large, blank sheet of paper on the floor in the middle of the group of children. Once each child has chosen a pencil ….

Each of you has chosen a pencil crayon from my box. Are you happy with the colour you got?

Why, or why not?

Okay, but can you still draw something with it?

I think so, since I made sure all the markers, crayons and pencils were sharpened and in good working condition before worship today.

Alright, what I would like you to do is think of something you can draw together as a group, given whatever colours you have. How can you do this?

Well, first you might want to ask your neighbour what colour they have. Then, when you know all the colours in play, you can make up a picture that can include all the colours. The picture can be whatever you want it to be, so long as you get each and every colour you have in your group on the paper as part of that picture.

Any ideas? …

As you are colouring your picture together, I want to remind you that God gave each of us a colour in our lives. This colour is like something very special that each of you has — a talent, a treasure, an ability, something you can like about yourself. This is a very special gift that God gave you and no one else. Do you know what your colour is? — your talent, treasure, ability?
If not, that’s okay. Sometimes it can take a long time before you find that out.

This gift is not something we chose to have, just like you couldn’t choose your favourite colour or pencil from the box. All we have to do is reach into our lives, like you reached into the box, to discover what that colour is. When we’ve done that, God wants us to use it!

Part of being the church together is to know your special talent or gift. But also to discover what other peoples’ talents are. And when you know what everyone has, just imagine the neat things you can do as a group.

That’s what being the church is all about. Jesus wants us to work together, using our talents, to paint a beautiful picture — like you are doing now — using all the gifts of everyone in the church. Not just one person’s talent. But everyone’s, together!

Then we can show the bright and beautiful colours of God’s love to the whole world.

Good job!

Let’s pray: Thank you God for creating me. Thank you for giving me a special gift. Help me to know that gift, and learn the gifts of others. Then, bless us with your love, so together with other people, we can use our gifts to show your love to the world. Amen.

“To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good” (1 Corinthians 12:7)

Church and Money – setting a postive tone

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Many church leaders will be facing their annual congregational meetings in the next month. And a lot of the conversation will likely revolve around money.

I hope I can help set a positive tone for these discussions to encourage my parishioners — and indeed Canadians from all Christian denominations — to be generous, as their expression of love for God, for Christ’s Church on earth, and for the world in so desperate a need these days.

Recently a Huffington Post article presented some interesting statistics. These facts may provide a helpful background for pastors, priests and church leaders as they prepare their hearts and minds for these annual meetings.

– Of the provinces and territories in Canada, Manitobans are for the 14th year in a row the most generous of all Canadians in charitable giving

– Even so, Manitoba ranked 39th out of 63 jurisdictions including all the states in the USA, provinces and territories in Canada

– Utah, which ranked 1st in generosity, made charitable donations totaling about three and a half times more than what Manitobans gave

– The extent of charitable giving by the provinces hasn’t improved as donations have plummeted since 2010, especially in Ontario

– Charles Lammam, Associate Director of the Fraser Institute said, “Had Canadians donated to registered charities at the same rate as Americans, Canada’s charities would have received an additional $9.2 billion in private support in 2010”

Given these facts, I am encouraged to reflect on something stewardship resources and voices have affirmed over time: God has already given us enough of what we need to do whatever we feel called to do, in Jesus’ name, with the Church, for the sake of God’s mission in the world today.

No one has seen God

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From his fullness we have all received grace upon grace. The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known. (John 1:16-18)

When Seth first started playing soccer, he followed the ball very well. He was even, right from the start, able to anticipate where the ball was going and position himself accordingly.

But he didn’t want to touch the ball. He let someone else do that.

As most 5-year-olds do when they begin playing the sport, all the players tend to surround the ball en mass and follow the ball around on the field like a flock of birds until someone kicks it in any direction, and the flock moves there.

But Seth always remained on the outside of that group. He kept his feet moving to be sure — circling the ball, dancing around it, following it carefully — but never actually touching it.

Eventually, as Seth continued to grow and play soccer season after season, he also grew to love the sport. Over time he learned to be a little bit more assertive with the ball and approach it confidently. He’s evolved into a very good soccer player.

Eventually, he just wanted the ball. Despite the risk. Despite the struggle that would ensue with a competitor. Above all, every good player wants the ball — that goes without saying.

And yet I wonder about how we approach our God. Do we play it too safe? Do we acknowledge our innate desire for God? And if not, why not? Is it because we cannot see God? What are we waiting for?

Admittedly, it is easier to stay on the outside, and just watch. We’ll let others do it for us. Maybe they’ve done a better job figuring out God.

Yet, scripture is clear that no one has seen God. On Mount Sinai when he received the Ten Commandments, even Moses had to turn away in the presence of God (Exodus 33:20-23). No one has all the answers about God. No one has God figured out. As much as we may want there to be, there are no easy answers to life’s tough questions.

Even though we have the Law, it is not enough. The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.

The only thing anyone of us can do is to approach the heart of God, to come near. John’s Gospel suggests that the only way we can know God is in relationship with Jesus. Jesus’ reflects the heart of God. Being close to Jesus, then, we are close to God.

The young boy-child Jesus instinctively knew that to know his heavenly Father he had to be close to Him. And the one place in ancient Israel known to contain the holy presence of God – the temple in Jerusalem. One of the first things Jesus does as a growing individual is to desire his Father’s house, the temple.

“Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” (Luke 2:49)

The best anyone of us can do is come close. Because what is most important in life cannot be measured, quantified, analyzed. God cannot be rationalized away by doctrinal statements, creeds and stated opinion.

God can only be experienced. The boy Jesus had to experience his Father’s house. Be there. Even if it meant disobeying his parents and breaking the law.

Being bold in coming close to Jesus means being bold in approaching our lives. Not being reckless nor irresponsible. But being bold – reaching out to strangers, taking risks of faith, addressing the issues of your life with honesty and truth and action, not giving up.

And when we are close to Jesus – as in the Holy Communion, or in the fellowship of the church, in loving service of the world – we experience and therefore know the heart of God.

And what does a heart signify? A heart signifies the essence of a person, the centre of a person’s very identity. A heart signifies love, compassion.

So while there aren’t any easy answers to the mysteries of life and death – answers for which we strive to seek rational, quantifiable and analytical certainty, often to our folly – one thing is sure: God’s love. God’s compassion for all of creation. Our salvation is found in Jesus whose way is love: This is central. This is vital to who we are.

When we take the risk to ‘touch the ball’ so to speak, when we approach the throne of grace boldly, when we take a risk to reach out in love to another, we can be confident to know that we are approaching the heart of God.

The only thing we can do is come near, come close to God. And the only way we can do that on earth, is to do it together, as a team.

The B2CS New Year’s resolutions

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B2CS stands for “Back to Church Sunday”. Michael Harvey from the United Kingdom wrote a book entitled “Unlocking the Growth” which outlines this movement happening across the globe in the last decade, predominantly in mainline Christian denominations. He’s also produced a couple DVD seminars and makes resources available every year to help kick-start this initiative in your church. The vision is simple: double a congregation on one day, when each member invites one person: “Would you come to church with me?”

Recently, upon conclusion of a small leaders group which I facilitated preparing for B2CS 2013, I asked participants to make some new year’s resolutions: What is one thing about this challenge you would like to try in 2013 in your congregation?

I like relating B2CS with New Years because B2C is not just about a one-off event for just one day in the year — it’s a process. It is like fertilizing, tilling and working the ground in preparation for the growth to happen. For example, B2CS emphasizes the vital importance of the gift of friendship. And friendship is something organic; it takes time and effort to foster a good friendship. It is then in the context of a friendship wherein the question can naturally be asked: “Would you come to church with me?”

I also like linking B2CS with New Years because both events signal a new start in the life of a congregation. Introducing the congregation to the challenge of invitation creates a cultural shift that can be seismic in proportion.

Invitation is a call to claim a new identity among members from being spectators each Sunday to being hosts. Therefore, B2CS can shape and refresh a collective understanding of what church, what evangelism, what faith and what following Jesus really means in today’s world.

New Year’s resolutions are about doing the little yet consequential things, mindful that every thing we do and every word we say can affect our lives in a positive way.

Resolutions are about creating a habit in behavior. Do something 21 times, I once heard, before it becomes a habit: Practicing the question — “Would you come to church with me?”; Repeating the skills — praying and taking responsibility for each, precious visitor that walks through the threshold of the church building; Trying something new a few times — like spending more time with newcomers rather than regulars, during a congregational event.

Here are the New Year’s resolutions of the local, Ottawa group preparing for B2CS 2013:

1. Intentionally pray for whom God is preparing for me to invite;

2. Work towards creating more small groups within my congregation;

3. Reach out in love to those on the fringe of my congregation — the ‘inactives’;

4. Publish a Lenten devotional of collected ‘stories of invitation’ from the membership, for circulation in my congregation;

5. Try not to sit in the same place every Sunday for worship;

6. Make people feel special, compliment them, appreciate them.

Excellent! Thank you! May God bless our B2C work in 2013! And, oh yes, Happy New Year!

What is truth? Part 2: Belonging to community

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I remember when I was ten years old I wanted to run away from home. My brother and I fought with my Mom over watching a TV show. Our disagreement led to this radical solution.

My brother and I packed our little red wagon with pillows, blankets, some twinkies, and a bottle of milk. I informed my Mom, and we were on our way.

We pulled our wagon down the sidewalk in silence. When we reached the first cross street a block away from home, we stopped. Without saying a word, both of us turned around and headed back with heads hung low.

In discovering the truth, not only must you come home to yourself and articulate your own desires, motivations and unique identity, you need to land in a community. This is the important second movement in answering: “What is truth?” (John 18:38).

At some point in the process of discovering the truth, we need to acknowledge the communal nature of truth-telling. It’s one thing to say discovering the truth is a personal journey; but it’s also a path that takes you beyond pure individualism. In other words, you can’t celebrate the truth of anything by yourself. In community we are greater than the sum of our individual parts. The truth can only be ascertained and arrived-at in the midst of others.

In the Gospel of John, Jesus relates the truth with “belonging” (18:37) — belonging to a community. Whether that community is a family, a church, a nation, God, our belonging is often tested. When things don’t go our way. When we don’t get want we want in that community. When others disappoint us. When there is disagreement. When we suffer. There are a host of circumstances that may lead us to question our belonging.

And when that happens, what do we do? Do we leave? Do we, as I tried to do with my red wagon and twin brother in tow, run away? Do we isolate ourselves behind fortress walls of fear and intransigence? What do we do when our belonging is severely tested?

Jesus hints that the kingdom of which he speaks transcends the self. When Jesus says that he was born for the purpose of testifying to the reign of God (John 18:37), Jesus is pointing to that which is larger than any individual, including himself.

We don’t exist unto ourselves. The sun doesn’t orbit around our individual planet; rather, we orbit around the sun! Our lives are meant for more than mere self-indulgence, self-acquisition, self-amelioration, self-justification.

When we discover the truth together, we’re not denying our individual, unique perspectives. We are not hiding our true colours from one another. We are simply affirming that if we are to find the truth, we will only do so together.

Belonging is not so much about individual decisions as it is about collective participation in community. That is why we make major decisions as the church, or as a nation, or even in families together. We share our differing thoughts and opinions with the awareness of our belonging to one another and to God, whether or not that unity is challenged or visibly shaken.

The movement towards community in discerning the truth calls for humility and attentiveness to those around us.

Where do you belong? Give God thanks for your belonging.