Not a prize to win but a gift to celebrate

When the lost sheep is found, and the lost coin is recovered, there is much rejoicing in heaven (Luke 15:1-10). God celebrates. God is pleased. God is honoured. And all are invited to the party.

The shepherd’s friends and neighbours are invited to the celebration. The woman calls her friends over to rejoice together. For what has been found is so precious to the one who finds.

A couple of months after I was married, my wife and I raced to the beach in Goderich Ontario at the end of the workday. Because the bluffs overlooking Lake Huron there are high, you can watch the sunset twice. First at the beach level; then, as soon as the sun sets you run up the stairs some fifty feet to the top of the bluff, turn around and see the sun go down again.

That evening, we arrived too late to watch it twice. The sun was setting from atop the bluff when we got there. But we didn’t drive all the way there not take a short walk along the beach. So, after the sun set, we descended the steps and walked onto the sand as the day’s light quickly dissipated.

Because it was getting dark, we decided not to walk far, but just to sit down on the sand and watch the amazing array of yellows, blues, reds, and orange in the sky. Not only was it getting dark, but the late summer temperatures quickly plummeted. And it was getting cold.

And when our hands get cold, the blood vessels restrict and our fingers narrow somewhat. After about 10 minutes of sky-gazing, we went to get up to go, and with shock and horror I realized my wedding band was no longer on my finger. It had slipped off.

At first we froze in indecision. What do we do? Give up? Accept the loss? After all, to find a ring in a 25 square foot area buried in soft sand full of pebbles and wood chips in the waning light of day seemed impossible. Despair began to creep into my heart.

We said to each other that rather than just give up, we should at least try. So with a stick we drew a square in the sand, and on our hands and knees raked with our fingers every square inch of that boxed area.

It was nearing pitch black as we approached the last corner of our ‘fenced’ area. Suddenly the tips of my fingers felt something cold and metallic. I scooped up my ring and we darted up those steps feeling giddy and light on our feet. The joy, the relief! All was not lost!

In Luke 15, Jesus responds to the Pharisees with stories whose climax is a party, a rejoicing, a celebration. The upshot of the these parables is an invitation to all people, including the sinners and the tax collectors to join together in the celebration of God’s kingdom.

But what about the Pharisees? Are they included, too? I wonder about the 99 sheep left behind.

I wonder what the 99 sheep must have felt, when the shepherd leaves them alone to go after the one who has broken all the rules? What is the shepherd thinking? A crazy risk, wouldn’t you say? 99% of the shepherd’s assets are left unprotected, vulnerable. And, for what? One, lost, misguided, rebellious lamb?

I see a similar dynamic here to the elder son in the story of the Prodigal Son which immediately follows these ones in Luke 15. The elder son who has faithfully remained and worked on his father’s land resents his brother who is shown so much love and attention. And, for what? For running away, squandering his father’s inheritance, shaming the family only to return to the biggest party ever thrown? For him? How fair is that?

We see here that God’s economy is not based on merit, but on mercy. God’s economy is upside down. While our culture is built on merit, God’s kingdom is built on grace. For, God is merciful, gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love (Psalm 103:8).

What Jesus is saying to the Pharisees is that the sheepfold – the family of God – exists primarily for those who are not yet members of it – especially those we would consider ‘lost’.

Here we see some values that emerge from a focus on God’s character, values that we would do well to consider in the church.

Let’s say we are the sheepfold, the flock whose Savior is Jesus, the great Shepherd. Where do you think Jesus will be found? Based on this scripture, I’m thinking the attention of our Lord is focused, relentlessly, on those who are not yet here.

By implication then, whatever we decide to do in the church, we would do well to ask this question: Whose purposes does a certain action serve? Ourselves? Whom are we serving, in all our work in the church? Do we make decisions on programs and worship practices that serve our needs? Or, do we see things from the perspective of those who are not here every Sunday? — who are on the fringes of the community, who are somehow distant? What would benefit them?

Because that’s where Jesus is. He’s out there. Looking. Searching. And we know the end of the story: He invites everyone to the table for a celebration. Even the religious types.

When Jesus leaves the 99 in order to search out the one, when you think about it, the shepherd must be putting a whole lot of trust and faith in those 99. He wouldn’t leave them for a while without believing in his flock, believing they had the ability and the resources to do what they had to do during his absence.

God has faith in us all. God believes in each one of us. And God will have faith in anyone who returns home to live in loving relationship with Jesus – whether the sinners, the tax collectors, the Pharisees …. [complete the list]

Because it is a gathering for everyone to celebrate not a prize won, but a gift given by an all-inclusive God whose sights are set beyond the pen, beyond the borders of safety, beyond the walls of any church.

Of marking a birthday

I see not a step before me as I tread on another year.

But I’ve left the past in God’s keeping —

the future in His mercy shall clear;

and what looks dark in the distance may brighten as I draw near.

This poem by American writer of religious poetry, Mary Gardiner Brainard, occupies my reflection these days as I celebrate important birthdays both with families and parishioners. What I appreciate in these words is the acknowledgment of uncertainty about a ‘dark’ future. Even people of faith (can you believe it!) feel the anxiety of impending suffering and death. Especially as we age, in the latter years.

And yet, there is the hope of light beyond the dark. In southern Ontario we have recently experienced severe thunderstorms — even as I write these words! You know when a storm comes by looking at the sky and noticing the dark grey menace approach. It’s hard to believe in that moment of recognition that the sun is still shining somewhere above all that.

But what a relief and joy it is, after the storm passes, to glimpse the rays of light bursting through!

Marking a birthday is not just about a mindless party and excuse to indulge in our addictive behavior. But rather, birthdays are an opportunity to affirm faith in the future (despite the storms and uncertainties of life) and faith in the God who makes that glorious future possible.

And, to celebrate all these things with others.

Who are you gonna call?

The induction, or installation, of a new pastor is a day to celebrate not only leadership in the church, but an occasion to review the role and function of the relationship between pastor, people and God.

Recently I was elected as “Dean” of the Ottawa/St Lawrence Conference. I have spent some time reviewing and reflecting on leadership, as a result. The jokes in comparison to ‘Dean Martin’ are interesting. I may be too young to appreciate the entertainment of ‘King Cool’ — member of the infamous ‘rat pack’. But I am old enough to remember watching the original, iconic Bill Murray and Dan Aykroyd film ‘Ghostbusters’.

A nerdy tween in the early 1980s, I easily got hooked on the catchy theme song whose repetitive mantra was: “Who are you gonna call? — Ghostbusters!” The team would respond to complaints and investigate paranormal activity. Then, they would eliminate any potential threats. If ghosts appeared in someone’s house, “Who are you gonna call? — Ghostbusters!”

Every individual, every family, every community, every nation, every church — has ‘ghosts’ in the closet. And I think the ghostbuster culture has influenced the culture of church leadership today. For example, when there’s a change in pastoral leadership often people expect the new guy or gal to exterminate any proverbial ghosts in the church closet. The new pastor will swoop in, identify all the problems and miraculously make things better. “Who are you gonna call? –A new pastor!”

He or she will use the tools of their trade — their exceptional skill sets at conflict resolution, their managerial and organizational abilities around the council table, their charisma and eloquence in the pulpit, their compassion and listening skills by the hospital bed. When congregations — as they all do — bear the emotional weight of past failures, unrealized dreams or struggle with scars of past conflicts or fears about the future … “Who are you gonna call? — A new pastor!”

Here comes Pastor (fill in the blank) in his flowing robes and swagger! Glorious! “Who are you gonna call? — A new pastor!” Save us!

Well, I hate to break it to you… but I think you know: YOU, and anyone else in this room, are not gonna do it. Because alongside our unrealistic expectations and pressures we place on ourselves to be successful and perfect, is the Word of God which states in no uncertain terms that it is God who will bring to completion the good work begun in us (Philippians 1:6). Alongside our fervor and toil is the Sacrament of the Table whose host is Jesus, reminding us that this thing we do in church is not about us but about God, God’s mission and God’s work in us.

The job of pastor and people working in mutual ministry is to pay attention to what God is doing, and respond honestly and with love to God’s call. We are in this together. Who are we gonna call? Let’s call on God!

On the journey – Wow

A family came back to have their second baby baptized. The older brother was about four and he got very serious through the whole thing. In fact, he cried in the car all the way home, even after having the cake and everything. His father asked him three times what was wrong. The boy was inconsolable. Finally, choking back the tears, the boy answered, “The pastor said that in baptism we now belonged to the Christian family.”

“What’s wrong with that?” his mother asked.

“Well, I wanted to stay with you guys.”

In Confirmation, you affirm God’s promise of belonging to the Christian — that is, God’s — family forever. But as a teenager you may not feel as the four year old in the story. Maybe you are getting excited about where life can lead you and starting to get ready to spread your wings, so to speak. In short, you are appreciating the ‘wow’ factor of life. And this is good.

The ‘wow’ factor is about getting excited, dreaming the dreams, reaching for the stars, seeing the possibilities, celebrating life. Confirmation, in our tradition, is about young people affirming their baptism and calling in life. You are on a journey. And today is a milestone on that journey of faith and life.

Today is Holy Trinity Sunday. Christians believe in the Trinity: one God in three persons. So, let’s draw three circles, reminding us of the Trinity, on this pad of paper here, and ask the questions: “What should I do to get through life that is largely before me?” “Is the Dream possible, on the journey of life?”
Each of us is given the gift of life on this planet. How, then can you travel well on the journey of life?

We draw these three circles inside of each other. The first, largest circle encompasses the other two. This first, large one, is the ‘wow’ circle. The next circle, a little smaller within the largest is called the ‘how’ circle. And the smallest circle at the centre of the other two is the ‘now’ circle.

The creation is ‘wow’. It’s the biggest one. It’s the starting point. It’s what it’s all about. Just look outside at this time of year to notice the bursting greens and thriving life coming from the earth. Or, whether you climb mountains or dive in the sea — or see the earth from space as Commander Chris Hatfield did — what God created is Wow!
Relish it! Experience it! It is beautiful!

And so are you. Each of us is created by God and is a remarkable human being, complete with unique gifts and talents and abilities and personalities. Wow.

This attitude of ‘wow’ accompanies us when we choose a vocation, undertake a new project, or make a major decision that you believe is a good one. In this initial stage we are in the ‘wow’ place — we see the possibilities, the goal, the big picture. It is the purview of visionaries, embodying the hope and potential of who we are in creation. It is the idealistic part of any undertaking.

It’s the proverbial honeymoon stage. It’s the best part of the dream.

And admittedly the one that gets short shrift so often. We don’t spend enough time visiting and revisiting this part of it in life, especially as we grow older. We so quickly gravitate to the ‘how’. And working through the ‘how’, without spending enough time in the ‘wow’, can often snuff out the spirit of whatever the undertaking.

Understandable to a degree. Because so often in life once we start that new thing, whether a relationship or a job, there are naturally disappointments that come along. Life is not all ‘wow’. And that’s the truth.

At the other extreme, failing to tap into and access the ‘wow’ in life, even in the midst of challenging times, can lead to living a chronically unhappy, unfulfilled life. We can become so fearful, jaded and cynical, that the joy has been sapped completely out of life.

Regardless the circumstance, we have to find a way of keeping the ‘wow’ going …..

Thanks to a couple of Anglican friends, the Revs. Peter John Hobbs and Monique Stone who introduced to a gathering at a local clergy day in Ottawa the concept of “Wow, How, Now” — on which I have extrapolated in this 3-part post.

Where is God?

Where do we look for God when tragedy strikes? When bombs go off in public squares killing and maiming innocent lives? Where is God?

The Psalmist expresses what, in the Bible, is a consistent divine message whenever we find ourselves “in the valley of the shadow of death” (Psalm 23:4):

Through the Psalmist God says, “Fear no evil …” How is that possible? Is this some trite expression oozing from the lips of a feel-good religionist?

The Psalmist does not deny the reality of evil nor its capacity to wreak mayhem. Yet, despite the real threat of evil, the Psalmist has adopted a resolute stance: No Fear.

But why are we not to be afraid? On what grounds are we not to fear? Is it because the police are already on the scene? Is it because enhanced surveillance methods will allow law enforcement officials to identify the perpetrators more quickly and effectively? Is it because our military has new tools to exact vengeance so that the ‘bad guys’ will never hurt anyone again? Is this why we should not fear?

Our reaction to terror over the last twelve years hasn’t really gotten rid of this fear, has it? A hard-hitting, “shock-and-awe” response was widely thought to be the tonic for getting us over our fear and punishing our enemies. Has it worked?

I suspect we are still very, very fearful. The events in Boston over the last six days have proven it to me. And yet, God’s message comes again: “Do not fear …” Why?

“…. for You are with me.” It’s the core claim of biblical faith that there is but one God and that all trust belongs to that God. We are in a relationship of grace with God. We aren’t alone, even in that valley.

Perhaps we need to confess that when trouble comes we compulsively try to find solace in every place but the proper one. We tend to look for God in places that do not, in the end, communicate the transforming power of God’s love in Jesus Christ. We tend, do we not, to look for God in places of our own doing — efforts and demonstrations of power and influence: Our successes; Our praise-worthy accomplishments; Our ‘winning’ at the game of life? Are these the places where Jesus will find us with his transforming love?

In the Gospel text, Jesus is walking under the Portico of Solomon in the temple at Jerusalem. This was the sheltered walkway — a natural place for someone to find refuge on a cold, blustery, winter’s day. But to leave it there would be to miss the significance of where Jesus was found:

This portico lined the perimeter of the temple. Jesus was walking around the outer edge of the temple during the Dedication. The Dedication was the annual festival celebrating the political triumph of the Maccabean revolt that restored Jewish control of the temple following its desecration by Antiochus IV in 167 B.C.E. So, being at the temple itself was a big deal on this very holy day.

And where one stood in the temple was significant. The Holy of Holies was at the centre of the temple, where only the High Priest entered once a year. The farther “out” from the centre, the less important you were. Conversely, the closer to the centre of the temple building you were allowed to go, the higher status you held in the religious world of the day.

Jesus was not where we might initially think he should be; that is, closer to the Holy of Holies. Instead, he was in that part of the temple where the common people were allowed to enter.

Where does God choose to be revealed? In places we would not normally look for God. Jesus was born in a manger, not in a palace. Jesus died on a cross, a criminal of the state, not on a comfortable bed surrounded by adoring loved ones and the best medical attention. How could God be like that?

Yet, this is Jesus — the God we worship and confess as our Lord and Saviour. If we are looking for positive change in our lives, if we seek personal transformation, if we yearn for a new beginning and resurrection in our lives — then we cannot jump from Palm Sunday (Hosanna!) to Easter (Alleluia!) and bypass Good Friday (The Cross!).

Success doesn’t come without embracing failure. New life doesn’t come without losing something precious. Receiving doesn’t happen without giving.

Some of us with children have expressed concern about all the horrific images they  may see on TV news reports over the past week from Boston. The vivid and terrible images of devastation on a sidewalk could be traumatic, for anyone, to watch over and over again. What can we say to our children who could be adversely affected and overcome by fear, by watching this?

“Do not be afraid”, for focus your attention on those who are helping. Look at the first-responders as they risk their own lives in a chaotic, uncertain and dangerous environment providing care, love and compassion to the victims. “… for You are with me.”

Where is God? God is revealed in places where we would least expect. And in those moments of human frailty and weakness — not by denying our wounds and pretending we can by our efforts alone be perfect and invincible — God is with us. Jesus’ wounded hands will hold us. God will not abandon us in our greatest sorrow and vulnerability. In those places — on the ‘perimeter’, on the edge, of our lives — God will bring us to the fullness of life.

Thanks to Timothy F. Simpson, “The 23rd Psalm in an Age of Terror: A Pastoral Response to Boston”, posted on 16 April 2013.