Proper 28 Season after Pentecost – Remember who you are

Matthew 25:14-30

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanksgiving from the Church – Day of Thanksgiving-A

Please read Luke 17:11-19

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving is a Spiritual Discipline

“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” (1 Thessalonians 5:18).

Thanksgiving is a choice. Because if we wait until the time is right, if we believe that thanksgiving is only expressed in prosperous times, when enjoying perfect health, budget surpluses, and when peace on earth reigns — I’d guess thanksgiving wouldn’t apply to our practice of faith at all, would it?

Saint Paul encouraged the people of Thessalonica to “give thanks ALWAYS”. He was writing to a fledgling church bowing under the pressures of the culture. Early Christians there were targeted for unpatriotic behavior and often called to testify their loyalty (or not) to Julius Caesar and Emperor Octavian, considered widely as “God” and “son of God” respectively.

Under these oppressive cultural and political circumstances, why would you give thanks? When likely suffering from some form of persecution, for what would those Christians be thankful?

Saint Paul wasn’t naive. But he was wise. Because a heart oriented in faith in Christ, is a heart that instinctively seeks to emphasize the good, the positive, the hopeful, the silver-lining. Otherwise, why have faith? There is bad, to be sure. But there is always also some good. What is the good, even in a bad situation?

A loving phone call. Someone’s smile. A grandchild’s laugh. A note in the mail from a friend. Warm, sunny weather in Fall-time, a restful night, a few pain-free hours, etc., etc., etc.

A heart of thanksgiving does not live in denial of the harsh realities of life. It only holds those harsh realities in the larger perspective of faith. And our very lives are held always in the hands of a loving God. The end of history is the triumphal God the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit. Despite all that is bad in our world, we ARE heading toward that end where the Lord stands victorious!

Thanksgiving is a discipline because we have to be intentional about it. It isn’t always easy. We are called to make the time to remember the blessings of each day, no matter how tough it can get.

In an article written to the “Canada Lutheran” magazine this past summer (Vol.26,No.6,p.31), Bishop Michael Pryse of the Eastern Synod – Evangelical Lutheran Church in Canada relates what someone once suggested to him: “Life is not just a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming, ‘Wow, what a ride!’ That’s the kind of spirit,” concludes Bishop Pryse, “I’d like to see more of in our churches.”

It’s the spirit of celebration and thanksgiving, despite the circumstances.

Happy Thanksgiving all!

Pastor Martin

Pentecost 15A – Less is More

please read Philippians 2:5-13

Earlier this month I read in the news that Air Canada will now be charging a modest fee for checked luggage on flights to the U.S. The move is intended to raise more revenue for the cash-strapped airline. But travellers are now deterred from taking lots of baggage on their journey.

With the threat of a so-called double-dip recession looming, the catch word now is “austerity.” You might have heard of European governments, such as Italy and Greece, implementing austerity measures to curb debt and get a grip on their government finances which are adversely affecting world markets. Austerity basically means cutting back, doing with less or without, simplifying. You could imagine, austerity is not very popular.

Whether it is a flight you are taking on a journey somewhere, or the journey of daily living, or even the spiritual journey – the journey of faith – it nevertheless seems we are being called to reconsider our limits – limits on spending, limits on self-gratification, limits on our ego desires and wants.

Indeed, can we but see the silver lining in doing with less, the healing and wholeness it could bring to our complex and material-rich lives? What could happen should we embrace the more “simplified” life?

Our egos, certainly, get in the way. Our human nature doesn’t like this. We compulsively want more. We have a built-in ‘inflationary’ tendency, bent on incessant action, accomplishment, acquisition. We don’t want to hear the advice that counsels: “The sky won’t fall down if you stop trying to hold it up for a little while.” The markets, experts say, need to periodically correct themselves, because the bubble will burst if self-regulation on the parts of governments, businesses and individual households doesn’t happen. And I would add – in our personal and faith journeys as well.

The scripture from Philippians written by Saint Paul is one of the oldest texts from the New Testament. It is a poem, a hymn, yes even a creed, sung and read by early Christians whenever they met to affirm their faith in a God who chose to self-limit, to be humbled. The hymn can be divided into two sections, with two very distinct movements in each.

The first movement is downward. A very baptismal image of being immersed in the waters, of being submerged, “drowned”, going under. No wonder this hymn was often sung in early Christianity at baptisms. This movement is of a God who chose to go from glory to downright humility and death.

                                … Jesus Christ, who, though he was in the form of God,   did not regard

                                equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself,

                                taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness … he humbled

                                himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross.

 It is this movement that Christians today are being called to follow.

Whether it is a call to simplify a lifestyle overdrawn on itself; whether it is a call to reassess our appetites for more; whether it is a call to slow down in a hectic life; whether it is a call to understand anew the true meaning of “success” in God’s eyes – whatever the case may be, we are called to follow in the WAY of Jesus.

In fact the early Christians weren’t identified as “Christians” until much later; in the first decades after Jesus ascended to heaven, they were called “followers of the WAY” (Acts 22:4). Which WAY, or whose WAY, you might ask? The way of Jesus, of course. Jesus said, “I am the Way, the truth, and the life …” (John 14:6)

The word, the WAY, implies a journey. And on this journey we need to “travel light” – such was the great theme title of a recent Canadian Lutheran Anglican Youth (CLAY) gathering; “travel light”. Followers of the WAY, the journey we are on, necessitates that we follow Jesus best by travelling lightly – not hectically, not burned-out, not wanting always more and more and more – but by acknowledging our limitations, respecting them, divesting our lives of everything that is unhealthy – and we know what those things are for each of us, deep down, I believe.

We can’t begin to move up, unless we first go down. What goes up, must first have moved down, right? Easter can’t happen without Good Friday. The journey, the WAY, of Jesus – life in him – reflects this cycle of dying and rebirth, of going down and coming up.

A journey defined by the WAY of Jesus implies movement. On the other hand: inertia, remaining stuck in OUR way, when we remain intransigent, when we insist on our OWN way – doesn’t track with this. The new thing we so desperately want for our lives, the answer to the question, the way out of a difficult situation, whatever, doesn’t happen unless we take the risk and move in some direction, to begin with. If we decide not to do anything, it ain’t gonna work.

The car can’t be guided by the steering wheel unless it is first moving; the car can’t turn unless the wheels are rolling. God can guide us only when we are rolling, at least a little. Whatever the context of our lives, we must acknowledge the change that IS happening already.

Because in order for something good to happen, something first must die. In order for us to move on in a direction that IS healthy, life-giving and life-promoting, something has to stop. The prophet Isaiah

                                Do not remember the former things or consider the things of old.

                                I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?

                                I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. (Isaiah 43:18-19)

 

The promise of God, as the Psalmist in our reading today emphasizes, comes to us anew. The grace of God, the mercy and power and guidance comes to us once we have reached this vulnerable, honest, transparent, true “bottom” point – this desert place – in the rhythm, movement and journey of our lives.

                                God guides the humble in doing right and teaches his ways to the lowly.

                                (Psalm 25:8)

 

The first of all the beatitudes that Jesus teaches in the Sermon on the Mount is,

                                Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. (Matthew 5:3)

Poverty is a word closely associated with “austerity” – a place in the desert of our lives when we have but no other option than to fall on our knees at the throne of grace and mercy, at ground zero, divested of all our ego pride and pretention and persona and bravado … and wait upon the Lord.

 The second section from verses 9 through 11 in the Philippians text – the early hymn/creed of the Followers of the WAY – then announces the glorious movement upward out of the ashes.

 In the movement upward, Jesus is celebrated as who he truly is – the exalted One, the Son of the Living God, to whom “every knee should bend” (v.10). In the movement upward out of death and in rebirth Jesus is glorified for his true identity, something he never really was without, truth be told, even in and during the downward cycle to the cross. Jesus was always Jesus. And it is the action of God the Father to re-instate him, so to speak.

 This is the encouragement of Saint Paul to us who choose to follow in the WAY of Jesus: to be who we are. Not to be who we are not. Not to imitate someone else whom we may admire or be jealous of or compare ourselves to or covet for whatever reason. Not to go beyond the limitations of our being. “Let the same mind be in you that you have in Christ Jesus … who did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself …”

 Who are we, then? Beloved children of God, loveable and loving, created each of us in the very image of God (Genesis 1:27).  So, be bold in who you are in Christ!

 Be who you are. The approach, however, can be summarized in the phrase: Less is More. By the spiritual practices of praying release, of forgiving, of showing mercy, of letting go of anger, guilt and fear – less is more. Not popular. Not easy. It is truly the “narrow way” to enter the kingdom (Matthew 7:13-14).

Nevertheless, in this movement of the WAY of Jesus we discover less will be more. We will discover that indeed, as Saint Paul writes earlier in Philippians –

I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you

WILL bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ (1:6).

Not our way, not our work – but God’s. The good work you do in Christ’s service IS the very work of God.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Why We Need Not Be Afraid – Part Four /Pentecost 11A – The Cross

Matthew 16:21-28

The late Canadian federal politician, Jack Layton, in his final words written in a letter to all Canadians, wrote: “Hope is better than fear.” He wrote those words less than 48 hours before he would succumb to the cancer that was killing him. One thing about Jack Layton, you couldn’t fault the man for being genuine, passionate and from-the-heart in his communication. In other words, he wasn’t just saying, “hope is better than fear” just because it was a good thing to say; He really meant it.

How could he rise above his fear enough so to make that statement, genuinely? Hope is better than fear. How could he maintain optimism amidst his suffering and even in the face of impending death?

I must confess my reaction would echo Peter’s: It is not right for our leader to suffer and die! For that matter, let’s not talk about suffering and dying at all. Conversations like this have no place in the corridors of power, amidst the expectations of greatness and glory! Yeah, Peter’s reaction makes more sense than Jesus’ morbid talk!

I am not someone who has suffered greatly – especially as I consider some of the stories of you sitting in this room today. I suspect, nevertheless, that suffering comes to us all at some point in life, even when we don’t seek it. It is a natural part of life. So, I wonder, how can I prepare myself for the inevitable?

“How can there be a God,” sceptics ask, “when there is so much suffering in the world today?” I suspect the answer is, because people of faith discover hope and wholeness not be denying their broken places in life, but by embracing this reality, in love.

Perhaps another quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson can help set the context for our discussion this morning: “The wise man in the storm prays to God, not for safety from danger, but deliverance from fear.”

Perhaps it’s not the circumstance itself that is the issue, but our response to it. Because I believe we’ve heard of many people who have faced incredibly desperate cirmcumstances in their lives, and yet were able to maintain and hold a high level of hope despite their circumstance. How do they do it?

Why we need not be afraid? Today’s reflection zeroes in on the Cross. Not the crucifix — we’ll save that image for Holy Week and Good Friday. No, let’s start with a plain, empty Cross not denying the suffering it has caused as a 2nd century instrument of torture and capital punishment but suggesting there is something hopeful beyond the suffering.

How can we learn to live in hope, not fear? Here are a couple of biblical insights that emerge from the assigned texts for this day:

1. Jeremiah 15:15-21 “Why is my pain unceasing, my wound incurable, refusing to be healed?” (v.18)

Jeremiah complains bitterly to God, in the first half of this text. He even has the gall to describe God as a “deceitful brook” and “waters that fail” (v.18)

But God is not offended by Jeremiah’s accusations. That’s because Jeremiah’s protest, uttered amid his suffering, falls safely within the biblical tradition of “lament”. You can find other laments in the Psalms, for example, such as Psalms 22, 42, 44 & 89. Challenging God’s apparent unreliability in this manner is “fully spiritual” (David Bartlett & Barbara Brown Taylor, eds., Feasting on the Word Year A Vol 4, p.5). Why?

This language and style of communication presumes a relationship of faithfulness. The Lament is language of fidelity. It assumes that God values relationship and is open to being affected personally by a believer’s suffering. It is reminicent of the way Job challenged God. Anger expressed towards God is a more faithful act than complacency and a fateful, passive resignation fueled by self-rejection.

The first strategy for finding a way beyond the fear is grounding ourselves in a real, relationship with a God who is willing to be affected by our very own suffering, who is willing to hear our pain, who is willing to walk with us in the woundedness of our life.

The Cross symbolizes Jesus’ sympathy with human suffering. Because Jesus suffered and died on the Cross, God is no stranger to the depth and breadth of human suffering, including our own. He knows it. He can take it. Let him have it. And God will respond. How? God’s response to Jeremiah’s vitriol is a loving promise for redemption.

The Cross stands at the intersection of divine interest and intervention, and our own personal and corporate suffering. At the very least, we are not disconnected from God in our suffering. Therefore, we need not be afraid.

2. Which brings us to the second biblical insight for approaching our own suffering not with fear, but hope and love: The dialogue between Jesus, Peter and the disciples in our Gospel text takes place in the north country, Caesarea Philippi. Remember, the disciples are fishers. They are lake people, accumstomed to life on and around Lake Galilee. Places like Capernaum and Tiberias are their familiar stomping grounds. So, why did Jesus drag his disciples far north into unfamiliar territory in order to tell them that he must go to Jerusalem to suffer and die?

In fact, the text reveals that he did not “explain” or “tell” them about suffering, but that he “showed” them. So there must be something he did with them to teach them about suffering. Is it the very action of removing them from the familiar, from the routine, from the perceived safety and security of their “comfort zones” of home and hearth to teach them about the meaning of suffering?

I wonder if their physical displacement represented gaining some distance and perspective on the subject matter. Being far away from home symbolized the inner need for distance and detachment from all that seems to be important and with which they identified their lives.

Which sets the ground for the famous yet difficult teaching of Jesus in this text: “If anyone want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

Jesus wants to give his disciples a vision of his mission and kingdom in which we are given hope through our suffering and death. But the path is a way of embracing our losses. The message of Jesus’ stories (called “parables”) is that in losing we will find.

In Luke 15 is a summary of the Gospel — often referred to as the “golden” chapter of the bible. In it we read the stories of the lost coin, the lost sheep, and the Prodigal Son (i.e. the lost son). Sometimes I feel the Christians, based on their behaviour, would rather have it the other way around: Would we rather have Jesus tell stories about never having been lost? Why not parables about staying found, with instructions on how not to get lost?

The hope comes when we “let go.” Earlier in Matthew’s Gospel we find a version of the famous Beatitudes -teachings of Jesus – containing a list of “Blessed are those who …” The first one is, “Blessed are the poor in spirit.”

The importance of letting go of, releasing and forgiving are vital qualities in the process of healing. Letting go, first by being honest and angry with God; that is, getting it out. But, letting go of all our pretensions, perceived perfection and glory-fixations so that we discover who we truly are. In the poverty of our being, when we let go, we discover our true selves, not by identifying ourselves with our suffering but merely by relating to it.

And who we essentially are is nothing more, and nothing less, than be-loved, lovable and loving. Love is at the heart of faith. It’s not suffering for suffering’s sake. It’s not suffering for evil purposes. Jesus went to the Cross because he wants to love you and be with you and show you that hope is better than fear.

It’s suffering in full awareness of God’s love, compassion and promise in and through our suffering. And I think the way to that realization is in the art of “losing”: that in losing we will find.

If God is willing to love us in our suffering, perhaps we too can embrace the part of our lives in pain. Perhaps we can love the parts of our lives — mind, body, and spirit — that are hurting.

This week I heard the moving story of an elderly person who at a young age had to give up a baby daughter for adoption. Given the circumstances of her life at the time, and holding a faithful conviction that her daughter was meant to be loved and raised in another person’s household, she gave up something/someone near and dear to her.

She had to accept her loss. And she came to terms with the very real possibility that she might never again meet her daughter. Yet, she moved on in her life to experience many other blessings.

Then in the mid-1980s the Ontario Government passed legislation allowing for adopted children to seek out their birth mothers, if they so desired. Upon hearing of this news, this person called the government office and released her contact information, allowing for the possibility that her daughter, wherever she was, might wish to contact her.

Within two weeks, she received a phone call from her daughter. They planned for a reunion in a neutral city. And what a reunion it was! Even though their lives had gone in different directions and continued so after their meeting, they have been able to enjoy each other’s company and friendship to this day. They meet once in a while and are mutually blessed by their relationship.

In losing we will find. Not a reckless, indiscriminate, unthoughtful, impulsive letting go. But a letting go that is held in faithful, trusting and committed manner. We too can experience new life, healing, resurrection. It is not easy to take this first step. It requires some risk-taking. Yet, the cliche is true and analogous: Better to have love and lost, then never to have loved at all.

When we are honest, real and true — expressing our deepest feelings to God in relationship that will endure all; and, when we practice the art of letting go in so many areas of our lives holding the Cross as a symbol of the hope we have in Christ Jesus, we can be liberated from our fear.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Why We Need Not Be Afraid – Part Three /Pentecost 10A – Tradition

“Look to the rock from which you were hewn …” Isaiah 51:1ff

I know. I know. “Tradition” is not exactly the first word that comes to mind as a reason NOT to be afraid. For some people – perhaps younger generations of meaning-seekers – traditions may very well be the SOURCE of anxiety and fear: Christmas family gatherings, going to church, formal social meetings and events. Traditions can carry a heaviness with it. I get it.

But I’m standing here today to tell you that Tradition is meant to free us from fear. Okay, let’s be clear: As with everything, there is good (Tradition) and bad (traditions). I’m not talking about the small “t” traditions that Jesus often criticized the religious leaders of this time. He called them out for “abandoning the commandments of God for the sake of human traditions” (Mark 7:8).

I AM talking about the kind of big “T” Tradition that Saint Paul writes about in one of the earliest written texts in the New Testament — only a couple short decades after Jesus — in his second letter to the Thessalonians: he exhorts the people there “to hold fast” to the Tradition you received from the leaders of the church (2 Thessalonians 3:6).

We’re not talking about those habits of being and doing that give us false comfort and security, even in the church; these traditions — do I need to list some? — that really have little to do with the big “T” Tradition of the gospel of Jesus Christ. The Gospel big “T” Tradition speaks to the heart — salvation and healing that begins in the inner life of faith, and then is reflected in attitudes, behaviours and lifestyles consistent with the mission of God in the world.

How do we tell the difference? And how can we appreciate the Tradition so that we are not dominated and driven by fear?

The 3 “Re- ‘s”: Re-member, Re-turn, Re-lease. Now, before I talk about each one, I will stress that all three are important together. If you don’t balance all three, you will likely fall back into a “bad” tradition, which will only fuel a fear-driven life. All three are important.

1. First, we need to Re-member the Tradition. Someone once said that faith is a rear-view mirror.  And this “looking back” operates on at least two levels. First, we need to remember where we’ve come from, individually. Recall your past, your journey of life and faith. Review it in your mind’s eye: the major events of your life, good and bad, experiences that have shaped you and formed you. Remember the people who have been instrumental in your life, who have impacted your life, for better or for worse. Bring to your mind the values that, consequently, you have always held close to your heart — values and beliefs you know to be true in your life experience. Remember.

But also Remember that you are part of a long, historical Tradition of the church universal. The church today does not float untethered in its existence. The church — the community of the faithful exisits as part of a long, legacy and history and journey. The church is grounded in a history of proclamation, service and worship. It’s not just “our little church” thinking. The good Tradition is not isolationist and private in nature. Not just what we in this time and this place can do or have done.

Rather, Remembering the Traidtion of the church is about a public memory throughout the ages which we have inherited, and to which we belong. We are a part of the Tradition spanning time and space. Think of all the Christians baptized at this and every font over the past 2,000 years; think of the unity we are in Christ, “one body” (Romans 12), connected not only today with one another when we celebrate the Holy Communion, but with all the saints in heaven and on earth of every time and place.

We Remember our own lives and the life of the community in this great Tradition to which we belong. And this awareness can be a source of great comfort and confidence, enough to diminish the power of fear in our lives.

But growth and transformation in anyone does not occur by thinking about things alone, but by doing something about it.

2. Which brings us to the second “Re-“. Not only must we Remember, we must also Re-turn. We must return to some kind of spiritual discipline, whether it is coming regularly to worship, beginning some daily prayer regime, start reading that devotional book you’ve always put off, or talk to that someone whom you admire for their Christian lifestyle but never initiated any kind of conversation with them.

Because when it boils down to it, each and everyone of us in this room is returning, beginning over again, each time we pray, each time we show up here, each time we help our neighbour — no one is an expert, in a sense. We all need to return and begin again before our Lord, on our knees in confession and in praise.

Returning to some part of the Christian tradition, regularly, has helped countless of people throughout the ages quell their greatest fears. For this practice to have an enduring benefit in our lives, returning cannot be a one-time event.

Sometimes we try something new — go to a prayer group meeting, go to a worship service, start reading the bible — and something in that experience of doing it the first time distracts us, throws us off, or turns us off — and we give up, go home and pass immediate judgement on it, saying, “That’s not for me.”

Would you evaluate your judgement in the context of our culture of instant gratification? How much we are influenced by our high-octane, entertainment-driven culture with every kind of communication being reduced to ten-second sound bytes? How much does this cultural influence affect our approach to worship, and prayer, and simply being the church together? When we are not immediately gratified by the experience, we assume there is something wrong with it, instead of something wrong with ourselves.

I haven’t met yet a strong Christian who hasn’t come to their maturity without having had to struggle with it at times, but through it all still kept at praying, continued to attend worship. In short, not giving up too easily.

Return to the Lord your God — is the call during the Lenten season. Indeed, a worthy reminder to keep returning throughout the whole year.

Remembering the Tradition leads to Returning to the Tradition. But we can’t stop there, for the danger of becoming compulsive control freaks. We can become so zoned in to the discipline that it becomes counterproductive to our faith.

It’s like the man who was so scared to fly, but went anyway on a trip he’d always wanted to take. During the flight he couldn’t relax, but gripped his armrests without letting go. Even though the flight was remarkably turbulence free, he remained tense. The stewardess observed his behaviour and tried to settle him down. She approached him, and said, “My, what a calm flight; it’s going so smoothly you can hardly tell we’re in the air!”

To which, the man replied, “Darn right, and I want to keep it that way; that’s why I’m still holding up the plane!”

We can be so fixated on our action and discipline that we delude ourselves into falsely believing it is by the sheer might of our own determination, will-power and strength that we are accomplishing it. We may fall into the trap of works-righteousness, to which Martin Luther objected in his theology of “justification by grace alone.” It is not us who accomplish great things for the Lord. We have a part to play. Our intention and returning is important for our own good. But in the end, there’s something more at play.

3. That’s why, not only do we need to Remember, and Return — we need also to Release the Tradition into the world. I speak of a quality of our lives that is able to let go, a surrendering, of all that is important in our lives. “Getting out of the way of God”, as someone recently described to me.

The Good News is meant to be given away! Shared with others. NOT guarded, protected, contained, and kept private — but exactly the opposite. What is important to us must also be entrusted to others.

The Tradition is not just for you and me. It is not just about you and me. It is about the mission of God to others in the world around us. It is not ours to own, it is ours to give away, to Release.

The Tradition is experienced like recreational fishing is: We catch it, but then we release it. “Catch and Release.”

The Tradition can also be described as “Back to the Future”. It operates like a sling shot: We first reach back (Remembering and Returning) in order to move forward (Release).

When we Remember, Return, and Release our Tradition, we remain grounded in God, and therefore need not be afraid.

How can we do this? The only way we can, I believe, is because God first loved and chose us (John 15:16). In other words, we can Remember, Return, and Release our Tradition because God first and always Remembered us, Returns to us, and Releases us.

God remembered us. In Isaiah there is this beautiful verse that describes how God will never forget us and will always hold us in the palm of his hand and remember us. For example, (49:15) “Can a woman forget her nursing child, or show no compassion for the child of her womb? Even these may forget you, yet I will not forget you.” Even if we forget him at some point in our lives, God will never forget us.

God returned to us in Jesus Christ, once and for all in his sacrifice and resurrection. And through the Holy Spirit, Jesus continues to return to us in Word, Sacrament and in the gathering of the faithful. These opportunities present themselves over and over again even if we’re not ready at a particular point in time.

God released us from the shackles of sin, freeing us from the condemnation of death. Therefore God is faithful to us, believes in us, to be Christ’s hands and feet in the world for the sake of God’s mission. Even when we lose faith in ourselves, when we hold on so tightly to our own lives that we cannot lose them, release them, for Christ’s sake, God continues to stand by us and will never give up on us and on his purpose to free us.

At the end of the Isaiah text for today is a promise that sums up God’s promise, that God’s “salvation will be forever; his redemption will never end.” No matter what. Therefore, we need not be afraid.

Amen.

Why We Need Not Be Afraid – Part Two / Pentecost 9A – Gift

After a busy week of Vacation Bible School, the memories still brimming to the surface are, as you can imagine, working with and relating to the children. What do children teach us? For one thing, they can honestly express their fear. On the other hand, they can celebrate the goodness that they have and are. When one five-year-old boy was told at the last minute he had to be Jesus in a bible skit, he didn’t shy away and express the burden or shame of being Jesus; he didn’t self-reject. Instead, the little one immediately smiled and glowed wide-eyed. He loved being Jesus! And he wanted to do it again!

How would we adults react to such an imposition — if someone told us we had to be Jesus in a play? How often in our adult lives, and how easy it is, to deny the gift of Christ’s presence in our lives. We can deny it. We can run away from it — like Jonah. We can reject it …. and so never reap the benefit and grace of our gift, ultimately to tragic end: hell!

But what can happen when we affirm the love and light of God in our very life? Martin Luther affirmed that we are all “little Christs”. Would we discover the gift has always been there, waiting for us to discover it? Surprise!

How can we access the gift of who we are, truly are? After all, we have been created in the image of God (Genesis 1:27). We therefore have the divine imprint on our very lives. In our unique personalities we reflect some aspect of God’s character. But how can we access that part of ourselves that very well may have been squashed by life’s experiences and the compulsions of our ego always getting us into trouble — greed, violence, manipulating, lusting, self-demeaning?

Let’s consider for a moment a group of people for whom we might first think it would be impossible for them to claim the gift they are: the incarcerated, the imprisoned, serving life sentences.

In a workshop I attended at a learning conference recently I heard the presentation of a counsellor who works in some of the largest prisons for men in the United States. She told the stories of men who have lost all hope. These men have come to terms with and have accepted the punishments deserving of their crimes. And now they yearn to find the purpose of their lives, and rediscover the gift of who they truly are. I left the workshop inspired to hear that so many have indeed discovered their true and enduring worth, and found inspiration in the goodness of their lives.

In her workshop, the counsellor cited Marianne Williamson, who writes about our true status as human beings and as children of God:

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

We need not be afraid because of the real gift in our lives.

I recently copied one of those chain emails that get forwarded. It is an illustration of laminins — have you seen it? — that are a family of proteins that are an integral part of the structure of our physical bodies. Laminins are, apparently, what hold us together — literally. They are cell adhesion molecules; they are what holds one cell of our bodies to the next cell.

What is truly amazing is that when you look at laminins, they are in the shape of a cross. The author of the email writes that from a very literal standpoint, “we are all held together, one cell to another, by the cross.” We have the very mark of our creator on our beings — not just spiritually, but physically as well.

In worship services, leaders wear the alb (Latin for “white”) — an outer reality reflecting an inner truth. In the Gospel today (Matthew 15) Jesus emphasizes the importance of the inner realities of our lives. And the alb is a symbol of the gift within us, the gift of God’s mercy, forgiveness, grace and love in the spiritual presence of Jesus in our hearts. It is a baptismal gown (Galatians 3) to remind us that in our baptism we “put on Christ”, we are clothed by the redeeming act of God in Christ Jesus. That’s why we put it on in worship. To underscore this salient truth. And we need to be reminded of it.

We have to work at the “giftedness” part of our individual and community lives. It’s easier to focus on the negative, sinful aspects of our existence – we cannot deny them.

But it is often much easier to focus on the dark, than it is on the light. Physiologists have discovered that it takes less than a second to internalize a negative message. Conversely, it takes some 11 seconds to internalize a positive input — a compliment, a supportive, loving statement. I know how that feels — when I take the time to dwell on a positive statement someone makes about me or anyone else — to let that literally sink in. It changes something inside my body for the better. I feel it. We have to be intentional about at least acknowledging the good that is there, the gift. And I believe it will make a difference in our health and well-being in the long run.

“The gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable” (Romans 11:29). God won’t stop! God is “The Hound of Heaven”. Throughout the bible we are reminded of this truth. In Jeremiah 31:3 — God loved us with an everlasting love. God continues to bless. God’s faithfulness will never end. We might as well go for it and BE the people we are called to be! We will never lose it! The promises of God found throughout the Scriptures – they will always apply to us, always be offered to us.

Therefore we can be bold in being who we are in the world. Like the woman in the Gospel who boldly approached Jesus, we can boldly approach the loving presence of Jesus in our own lives and in the people we meet. No matter what we do or don’t do, in the end, we will always hold the gift in our very life.

Amen.

Why We Need Not Be Afraid – Part One / Pentecost 8A – Presence

please read Matthew 14:22-33

“Don’t be afraid!”

My reaction to this command ranges from downright denial to a self-amplified machismo to blatant disregard for the truth: “Afraid of what?” “Me, afraid? Nawwh!” “There’s nothing to be afraid of!”

“Don’t be afraid!” A direct command proclaimed from holy writ some 365 times — once for each day in the calendar year. What is easy is to keep this command at arms length. What is challenging is to receive this command personally, and not just a message given to its original hearers and readers thousands of years ago.

“Don’t be afraid!” It’s not that fear is altogether a bad thing. I can remember times in my life where a bit of fear kept me from doing some dangerous things. But if fear remains chronically the main catalyst behind all the decisions I make, then is there any room for faith in my heart? “Love casts out fear” John reminds us from the Bible (1 John 4:18).

So, what are you afraid of?

uuhhhhh, hmmmm, okay –lot’s of stuff. Where should I begin?

Maybe by a simple affirmation. Acknowledging my fear is a significant first step towards healing and transformation. I won’t get anywhere with all my fear unless I confess it, stay awhile in the feeling of it, embrace it, own it, name it for myself. This is the first learning I receive from the Gospel story given to us today.

I suspect this needs to happen as part of experiencing the profound transformation offered by the saving presence of Jesus — as was the case for at least Peter, individually, and the disciples, collectively, on Lake Galilee.

So I need to define the fear. Define what it is, precisely, that I am afraid of. And very likely the source of my fear germinates within me! Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote: “What people don’t seem to realize is that their opinion of the world is also a confession of character.”

Often we point at something or someone out there that is the cause of our fear. Consequently we end up not accurately nor truthfully defining the problem. A man went to the doctor complaining that wherever he touched his body, it hurt — his head, his arms, his chest, his stomach, his legs, even his toes! What is wrong with him? The doctor’s diagnosis: a broken finger.

Sometimes the problem is not what we at first assume. Sometimes the source of our fear is closer to home than we think.

The teaching from the Gospel story is that I won’t experience the grace, renewal, and positive change in my life unless I commit to move towards and touch those places that generate fear in my life.

Admitedly, this calls for courage and risk-taking. Because I suppose the disciples could have avoided the lake that day. They were professional fishers. They could read the sky, the water and air temperature. I am sure there were some among them who counselled against going out on the water that day. They could have put it off for a day on account of the discernable threat of storms.

But they had a higher purpose. There was something more important about their lives than simply taking the easy path to avoid-any-difficulty-at-all-cost.

I learn from this Gospel text that I need not be afraid to tackle those more hidden, perhaps shameful and uncomfortable aspects of my life. I need not be afraid to be by myself in order to overcome my fear. And even though I read that Elijah discovered God’s presence not in the high energy places of life but in the “sound of sheer silence” and that Jesus wasn’t afraid to be by himself on some hillside to pray — I find this so hard! I find the inner journey challenging and difficult.

Because my fears are larger-than-life when I’m alone, or cut off from others. When I’m focused solely on self, without a broader context of people with which to relate to and love, fear grows.

I like to be on the river paddling. As you can probably guess, I’m not a white-water kind of guy. I like being on a relatively calm stretch of water. If I can get out on the river once a week for an hour or so, I’m happy meandering around the islands off Petawawa Point. And each year I look forward to participating in the annual Paddlequest event organized by the Miramichi Lodge Foundation.

This year as over a hundred of us paddled down the Ottawa River as a group from Petawawa Point to Riverside Park in Pembroke — more or less together (it wasn’t a race, thank God!) — it came to me that I’ve never felt brave enough to do that stretch by myself. Partly because it would be a commitment of several hours. But mainly because the river is wide and long. And the thought of me paddling by myself in the middle of that broad stretch of river frightens me.

But paddling with Jessica in the canoe and a hundred people around me — it didn’t bother me at all!

My fear dissapates and I have more courage to do what I will when I’m with others and love for them and from them keeps me going. Loving awareness of others around me gives me courage to take the higher ground and do things I would otherwise avoid, despite my fear.

The final learning from the Gospel story is the most poignant: Jesus comes to the disciples in the storm. This is the promise of the text. Whether working through personal issues, or considering what faces us in the relationships of our lives — Jesus will be present to us in the storms, in facing the fear, of our lives.

After all, Jesus has been there, done that. He experienced the full gamut of human pain, fear and suffering. Out of his self-giving love on the cross comes a deep sympathy for each of us. Consequently there is no pain, no fear, no suffering too large that will keep Jesus away from us in our fear. Jesus will come to us in the storm. Because of his love.

We need not be afraid. We need not lead fear-based lives. We need not let fear guide all our decisions. Why?

Because Jesus is there. The love of Jesus for me, and you, and everyone. The Psalmist sings: “Call on the name of the Lord!” (Psalm 105:1) There is power in the name of Jesus — to affirm the presence of God amidst the evil, when assailed by Satan, when burdened by sin — call on the name of the Lord!

My first memory of being really afraid was from my nightmares as a child — when I dreamed of a scary, evil, satanic character. And I would dream of this night after night. Part of the problem for me was I was afraid to fall asleep. I would keep myself awake, vigilant, as if by my effort alone I would keep the evil dreams away. I exhausted myself. This want on for a while until I confessed to my Dad what was happening. And he gave me good advice: Say the Lord’s prayer.

I tried it. When I next woke frightened from my dream, I began: “Our father in heaven, holy is your name … ” And usually by then, I was already asleep. It worked every time I had that dream until the bad dream no longer had power over me. “Our father in heaven, holy is your name….” Already at peace. Jesus was with me. I was no longer afraid. I was able to let go in trust into the Lord’s love for me.

From the heart, then, I believed. Not from the head! The New Testament is about a heart-felt experience of divine relationship with God.

Paul in his letter to the Romans (10:9) is clear about that: Believe from the heart — and you will be saved. Believe from the heart that Jesus comes to you and is with you in the storm — and you will be saved.

Courageous presence with self and others. Trusting presence of God with us. Presence — the first reason why we need not be afraid …

Amen.

Graveside Journey

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?

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.