Homily Proper 22 Yr. A 2011
I want to tell you a story today about leadership. It starts with an eight year old boy growing up in the Montreal area. The minister at the United Church he worshipped at, John Shearman, recalls him as a hyper-active kid, the kind who could barely sit still.
His dad was an elder, and served as Sunday school superintendent. His mother was a member of the ladies group, and taught the minister’s wife the art of smocking.
The young lad grew up as part of that church family, and was part of an active youth group called “the infusers.”
The name meant all of life was to be infused with the holy spirit and the energy of the Gospel.
The young man’s father taught a Sunday night youth Bible in Hudson, Quebec.
Yesterday that young lad was remembered in a state funeral in Toronto. Jack Layton---whose father Robert was a member of Brian Mulroney’s cabinet, and whose ancestors had served in the Union Nationale provincial government in Quebec and were among the fathers of Confederation---died much too young of cancer.
But while he struggled with the disease, he demonstrated the kind of leadership, we heard about today in scripture.
Jesus says if any 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.”
This describes a kind of servant leadership that we need more of in our world today.
Moses led his people out of Egypt, and through the wilderness, but he never saw the promised land.
St. Paul likewise travelled the Mediterranean world, suffering persecution and shipwrecks to preach the Gospel. Yet he never lived to see the church grow and prosper. It was still a tiny persecuted minority when Paul died a martyr in Rome. But he had laid the basis for its growth during his epic mission to the Mediterranean world.
In Jack Layton’s last letter to Canadians he concluded with these words I’m sure you have heard often this week but bear repeating: “Love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful, and optimistic, and we’ll change the world.”
That is spiritual message—a message of faith. Compare it to some scripture passages:
*”There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear” (1 John 4:18)
* Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice and be kind to one another, tender hearted and forgiving one another” (Ephesians 4:31-32)
“Suffering produce endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope.” (Romans 5:3-4)
Jack was a member of Bloor Street United in Toronto, and may have not been involved in a that congregation’s life in recent years due to his political career as a national party leader, but his actions and his words are testimony to his faith.
His causes have often been unpopular—support for AIDS sufferers and the homeless and the gay community in the 80’s before those causes were embraced by mainstream society.
That has always been so for Christians who follow the teaching of the Gospel. Jesus taught us to care for the poor, the disadvantaged, the marginalized.
It’s not an easy Gospel to live out. We are talking about self-denial, taking up our cross, undergoing suffering if necessary in the pursuit of our mission in life.
It’s much easier to follow what has been termed the prosperity gospel—and believe that if we behave well, we will be rewarded by God with riches. That kind of thinking—wrong headed in my view—is prevalent in parts of the Christian church—particularly in North America.
I think that kind of thinking would be offensive to Jesus.
It comes down to leadership. We as Christians need to practice what we preach. That’s what Paul was saying when he wrote to the Romans.
“Let love be genuine, hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; outdo one another in showing honour. Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers. Bless those who persecute you, bless and do not curse them….”
This past week as Canadians remembered Jack Layton, they were affirming those qualities exemplified in his leadership.
Perhaps what made the tribute reach out beyond his own party is the yearning among all of us for more civility in our political life, more caring, more servant leadership, and more concern for justice and the common good.
Our faith, our spirituality can’t be separated from the rest of life. We may not all agree, and certainly most of the time do not agree, on many political issues.
But our faith can lead us to support leadership which is unselfish, passionate and caring. We need to pray for our leaders because in this complex world it matters so much that public spirited people offer themselves for leadership.
The 24 hours news cycle has resulted in many becoming cynical about politicians, but the outpouring of love and respect after the untimely death of the leader of Her Majesty’s loyal opposition reminds us that we want to have trust in our leaders. We want to believe they care for us.
Prayer for the Nation p. 678 BAS
Sunday 28 August 2011
Monday 22 August 2011
Who Do You Say That I Am?
Homily Aug. 21/11 Proper 21 Yr. A
When I was a newspaper or magazine writer there would sometimes come a time when after researching a story and interviewing many people that I’d have difficulty knowing where to start—how to capture what my readers would be interested in.
This was particularly true when I went to write about my experiences in foreign countries visiting churches and mission groups there.
Sometimes there just seemed to be so much to tell, yet so little space, and where to start?
In a way that’s how I feel approaching preaching this morning. Today’s Gospel isn’t one of the miracle stories of Jesus. It doesn’t involve healing. It isn’t a parable. It isn’t a confrontation with Roman or Jewish authorities.
Instead Jesus is talking to his disciples and, as usual, asking questions.
Who do you say that I Am? he asks.
While driving yesterday, I saw this as a sermon text on several church signs.
The task for the preacher is at once simple, and daunting.
Perhaps more books have been written on Jesus than on any other person in history. And they have all tried to answer that question.
What can I offer . After all it was only ten years ago—August 19, 2001, that I was ordained as a Deacon in the Church by the Right Reverend Barry Hollowell, the sixth Bishop of Calgary, at a service at St. Bartholomew’s Church, Toronto.
A few months later I was ordained priest at my first parish, St. Cyprian’s Didsbury.
So I don’t profess to be a theologian, or expert. But I was called to ministry after almost half a century as a lay person in the Anglican Church of Canada, having completed theological studies and the candidacy process of the church.
With that call comes the humbling task of reflecting weekly on the scriptures during this sermon time, usually through our three year lectionary.
I see part of this task as helping you to understand the Biblical context of our readings, and reflect on what they might mean for our lives.
It means asking questions, like who do you say Jesus is.
Because unlike the fundamentalist Christians, we Anglicans have always believed in interpreting scripture, through reason and tradition—the so called three legged stool.
One of the dangers of approaching our Christian faith, as well as other faiths, is to engage in a literal reading of the sacred text—the Bible, or the Quran.
Our scriptures are inspired by God, but reading them in the plain sense of the words just doesn’t work. The text is a mixture of allegory, poetry, prophecy, vision and story.
So when Jesus asks Who do you say that I am, he isn’t asking for a twelve point description of things we must believe about him---he wants us to respond with God given faith, as Peter did—You are the messiah, the Son of the Living God.
But we can’t stop there. Jesus can’t be pigeon holed. Think of all the terms used to refer to Jesus: Redeemer, Friend, Brother, Lover, Saviour, Healer, Teacher, Rabbi, Prophet, Preacher. The list could go on.
All are true. But none holds all the truth.
Naming Jesus is , like naming and defining ourselves as followers of Jesus, is a process of learning and growing, moving from doubt to belief, from call to action.
Ours is not intended to be a passive faith, a consumer faith, a faith based on unthinking formulas.
We have to see our scriptures not as the fundamentalists have—a closed book with cut and dried answers, but as a living text which helps us learn more about God, and ourselves, through the inspiration of those who created those texts so many years ago.
Who do you say that I am? It’s a question we need to always be asking about Jesus as we respond to the needs of our families, our communities, our nation and our world.
When I visited a vacation bible school at St. John in the Wilderness this week to help out with music, most of the counselors were wearing bracelets—WWJD. What would Jesus do.
That question—along with Who do you say that I am? -- is one we need to think about. Because our answers help define our lives as individual Christians, and as members of a Christian community.
You’ll notice when Jesus asks the disciples people say the son of Man is---and that’s how he referred to himself—they answer John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah—all prophets.
Then comes that little word, but. “But Who do you say that I am.”
And that’s when Peter, the brave one, at least at this point, makes his declaration.
And that question still must be asked today, as it has for generations: “But, who do you say that I am?”
When I was a newspaper or magazine writer there would sometimes come a time when after researching a story and interviewing many people that I’d have difficulty knowing where to start—how to capture what my readers would be interested in.
This was particularly true when I went to write about my experiences in foreign countries visiting churches and mission groups there.
Sometimes there just seemed to be so much to tell, yet so little space, and where to start?
In a way that’s how I feel approaching preaching this morning. Today’s Gospel isn’t one of the miracle stories of Jesus. It doesn’t involve healing. It isn’t a parable. It isn’t a confrontation with Roman or Jewish authorities.
Instead Jesus is talking to his disciples and, as usual, asking questions.
Who do you say that I Am? he asks.
While driving yesterday, I saw this as a sermon text on several church signs.
The task for the preacher is at once simple, and daunting.
Perhaps more books have been written on Jesus than on any other person in history. And they have all tried to answer that question.
What can I offer . After all it was only ten years ago—August 19, 2001, that I was ordained as a Deacon in the Church by the Right Reverend Barry Hollowell, the sixth Bishop of Calgary, at a service at St. Bartholomew’s Church, Toronto.
A few months later I was ordained priest at my first parish, St. Cyprian’s Didsbury.
So I don’t profess to be a theologian, or expert. But I was called to ministry after almost half a century as a lay person in the Anglican Church of Canada, having completed theological studies and the candidacy process of the church.
With that call comes the humbling task of reflecting weekly on the scriptures during this sermon time, usually through our three year lectionary.
I see part of this task as helping you to understand the Biblical context of our readings, and reflect on what they might mean for our lives.
It means asking questions, like who do you say Jesus is.
Because unlike the fundamentalist Christians, we Anglicans have always believed in interpreting scripture, through reason and tradition—the so called three legged stool.
One of the dangers of approaching our Christian faith, as well as other faiths, is to engage in a literal reading of the sacred text—the Bible, or the Quran.
Our scriptures are inspired by God, but reading them in the plain sense of the words just doesn’t work. The text is a mixture of allegory, poetry, prophecy, vision and story.
So when Jesus asks Who do you say that I am, he isn’t asking for a twelve point description of things we must believe about him---he wants us to respond with God given faith, as Peter did—You are the messiah, the Son of the Living God.
But we can’t stop there. Jesus can’t be pigeon holed. Think of all the terms used to refer to Jesus: Redeemer, Friend, Brother, Lover, Saviour, Healer, Teacher, Rabbi, Prophet, Preacher. The list could go on.
All are true. But none holds all the truth.
Naming Jesus is , like naming and defining ourselves as followers of Jesus, is a process of learning and growing, moving from doubt to belief, from call to action.
Ours is not intended to be a passive faith, a consumer faith, a faith based on unthinking formulas.
We have to see our scriptures not as the fundamentalists have—a closed book with cut and dried answers, but as a living text which helps us learn more about God, and ourselves, through the inspiration of those who created those texts so many years ago.
Who do you say that I am? It’s a question we need to always be asking about Jesus as we respond to the needs of our families, our communities, our nation and our world.
When I visited a vacation bible school at St. John in the Wilderness this week to help out with music, most of the counselors were wearing bracelets—WWJD. What would Jesus do.
That question—along with Who do you say that I am? -- is one we need to think about. Because our answers help define our lives as individual Christians, and as members of a Christian community.
You’ll notice when Jesus asks the disciples people say the son of Man is---and that’s how he referred to himself—they answer John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah—all prophets.
Then comes that little word, but. “But Who do you say that I am.”
And that’s when Peter, the brave one, at least at this point, makes his declaration.
And that question still must be asked today, as it has for generations: “But, who do you say that I am?”
Monday 15 August 2011
Encountering the "other"
Homily Proper 20 Yr. A 2011
Have you ever been so weary all you want is a place to rest where no-one will disturb you, and relax?
Call it a retreat, a vacation, a respite….it fulfills a basic human need to refresh or regroup.
Throughout scripture there are references to Jesus seeking some solitude to pray, to gain strength for what must have been an exhausting life as an itinerant preacher, healer and teacher.
But there were always demands wherever he travelled, even on the outskirts of Israel, north of Palestine in the region of Tyre and Sidon.
And since we believe Jesus was a human being, he must have sometimes lost his patience. And this appears to be what has happened in this story.
The Canaanite woman comes and begs for Jesus help because her daughter is tormented by a demon.
First Jesus doesn’t answer her at all—a snub which might have been expected between a Jewish man and a Canaanite woman, because Canaanites were treated as second class citizens, reviled and hated by Jews.
The disciples urge Jesus to send the woman away.
But instead Jesus tries to explain: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”
In other words, the mission of Jesus, at least for now, is for the Jews alone.
But she kneels before him: Lord help me. How often in the Gospels do we see this response of faith followed with a healing.
But in this case Jesus responds with what can be seen as an insult, a put down: Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and feed it to the dogs.”
Dogs were not held in the high esteem at that time that they are now. After all, it’s clear to Coline and I that Wally runs the rectory.
But then dogs were seen as unclean.
This passage has proved difficult for Biblical commentators and preachers over the years.
After all we preach a doctrine that says Jesus without sin.
But even in the Gospel narratives we have Jesus showing anger, frustration, despair at different times. Could he not have shared in some of the prejudices of his own time.
Isn’t there a possibility he was weary and just wanted to end this brief encounter.
Also puzzling is the end of this brief encounter, where it appears this unnamed woman gets the best of Jesus, which is rare in any Gospel encounters.
“Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”
This bold, but respectful retort is amazing.
Jesus is used to tripping up the leading Jewish authorities, scribes, and Pharisees. Yet he is matched by one of society’s lowliest members, a Gentile woman, of a hated minority.
And in response, Jesus displays his willingness to change in response to the woman’s faith and courage, Jesus heals her daughter.
What does this story mean for us?
If Jesus can learn to deal with prejudices of his day, surely we can learn to treat better those who like the Canaanite woman would be “the other” in our society.
In Canada that means we have to look at how we treat Native people, and other visible minorities. How do we treat people with other religious backgrounds.
We are all children of God, and it is in how we treat our neighbours that we demonstrate our love of God.
We must be prepared to have our eyes opened to the needs and gifts of others, as Jesus was in this story.
The worst thing is to try and separate ourselves as Christians into a “holy” club, feeling we are better than others.
Jesus met the world, albeit sometimes reluctantly, when he was weary and needed a rest. His followers came from the outcasts of society---poor, women, Gentiles.
The people most hostile to his message were the leaders of Israel, the religious authorities, the wealthy.
Part of our challenge in the church is that the church has become part of the establishment in many countries. It has lost its edge. It doesn’t reach out sufficiently to “the other.”
Let us pray that following the example of Jesus we can learn from our encounters with people who are "the other" and recognize in them our common humanity.
Have you ever been so weary all you want is a place to rest where no-one will disturb you, and relax?
Call it a retreat, a vacation, a respite….it fulfills a basic human need to refresh or regroup.
Throughout scripture there are references to Jesus seeking some solitude to pray, to gain strength for what must have been an exhausting life as an itinerant preacher, healer and teacher.
But there were always demands wherever he travelled, even on the outskirts of Israel, north of Palestine in the region of Tyre and Sidon.
And since we believe Jesus was a human being, he must have sometimes lost his patience. And this appears to be what has happened in this story.
The Canaanite woman comes and begs for Jesus help because her daughter is tormented by a demon.
First Jesus doesn’t answer her at all—a snub which might have been expected between a Jewish man and a Canaanite woman, because Canaanites were treated as second class citizens, reviled and hated by Jews.
The disciples urge Jesus to send the woman away.
But instead Jesus tries to explain: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”
In other words, the mission of Jesus, at least for now, is for the Jews alone.
But she kneels before him: Lord help me. How often in the Gospels do we see this response of faith followed with a healing.
But in this case Jesus responds with what can be seen as an insult, a put down: Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and feed it to the dogs.”
Dogs were not held in the high esteem at that time that they are now. After all, it’s clear to Coline and I that Wally runs the rectory.
But then dogs were seen as unclean.
This passage has proved difficult for Biblical commentators and preachers over the years.
After all we preach a doctrine that says Jesus without sin.
But even in the Gospel narratives we have Jesus showing anger, frustration, despair at different times. Could he not have shared in some of the prejudices of his own time.
Isn’t there a possibility he was weary and just wanted to end this brief encounter.
Also puzzling is the end of this brief encounter, where it appears this unnamed woman gets the best of Jesus, which is rare in any Gospel encounters.
“Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”
This bold, but respectful retort is amazing.
Jesus is used to tripping up the leading Jewish authorities, scribes, and Pharisees. Yet he is matched by one of society’s lowliest members, a Gentile woman, of a hated minority.
And in response, Jesus displays his willingness to change in response to the woman’s faith and courage, Jesus heals her daughter.
What does this story mean for us?
If Jesus can learn to deal with prejudices of his day, surely we can learn to treat better those who like the Canaanite woman would be “the other” in our society.
In Canada that means we have to look at how we treat Native people, and other visible minorities. How do we treat people with other religious backgrounds.
We are all children of God, and it is in how we treat our neighbours that we demonstrate our love of God.
We must be prepared to have our eyes opened to the needs and gifts of others, as Jesus was in this story.
The worst thing is to try and separate ourselves as Christians into a “holy” club, feeling we are better than others.
Jesus met the world, albeit sometimes reluctantly, when he was weary and needed a rest. His followers came from the outcasts of society---poor, women, Gentiles.
The people most hostile to his message were the leaders of Israel, the religious authorities, the wealthy.
Part of our challenge in the church is that the church has become part of the establishment in many countries. It has lost its edge. It doesn’t reach out sufficiently to “the other.”
Let us pray that following the example of Jesus we can learn from our encounters with people who are "the other" and recognize in them our common humanity.
Sunday 7 August 2011
From Fear to Hope
Homily August 7/11 Yr. A Proper 14
Every time the stock markets tumble, like they did this past week because of economic uncertainty south of the border and in Europe, fear dominates our public square.
And with the internet and the 24 hour news cycle, it is hard not to be influenced by the climate of fear which strikes at times like these.
Fear of the unknown. Fear of the future. Fear of natural disaster. Fear for survival.
All those fears are part of our human condition. They were certainly present on that stormy night described in Matthew as the disciples left Jesus to pray and went out in the boat. There they were in the midst of an unexpected storm, and they kept getting further from land.
Suddenly in the middle of the night, they caught a glimpse of a figure amidst the waves.
They were terrified. They thought Jesus was still on the mountain top. They thought it was a ghost.
But it was Jesus: “Take heart, It is I,” he says. “Don’t be afraid.”
Those words echo through the ages to us as we live amidst the storms of life. Our faith is the way we are able to carry on, and overcome our fears.
This story can be viewed on many levels. It represents God with us in the storms of life.
We can also see the church as a boat, riding on the waves, with our faith in God giving us the strength to sail on and return to a safe harbour.
We can also see this whole story as a teaching about discipleship.
The disciples are challenged by the storms of persecution—opposition from the Pharisees, the Jewish religious authorities, soon to be joined by the Roman authorities. But inspired by Jesus, Peter makes a leap of faith, leaving the boat to walk on water.
He starts sinking and has doubts. But the story concludes with Jesus rescuing him and the disciples recognizing Jesus as the Son of God.
This movement from fear, to faith, then doubt, then worship expresses the complexity of the relationship we see between Jesus and his disciples in the Gospel.
It’s a complexity that makes the Gospels speak not only for the early Christians of those first few centuries, but for us now.
Fear is part of our lives. But we can’t let it take over our lives.
Jesus says: “Be not afraid.” That doesn’t mean there won’t be difficulties in our lives.
Hope can overcome fear. In the psalms the writers place their hopes in God in times of adversity.
Paul writes in his letter to the Romans that nothing can separate us from the love of God: not hardship, distress, persecution, famine, peril, death, powers, rulers. None of these can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.
The antidote to the fears of the world, is faith, hope and love.
We profess that faith and that hope in our closing prayer in the Book of Alternative Services drawn from the Letter to the Ephesians: “Glory to God whose power working in us can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.”
I am constantly humbled by the courage of those I care for in the midst of adversity. I think of Fran Skelton who so calmly and fearlessly faced suffering during the last years of her life, and particularly in her final struggle with cancer.
She never gave up hope. But she also faced death at peace.
Hope amid the storms of life. Faith amid the uncertainty of our age. Love amid the evil and strife in the world.
These are all part of our Christian journey. Hope must prevail over fear.
Getting back to fear over the US economic crisis, perhaps what is needed is for lawmakers in the US to step back and look at spending and what values it reflects.
Thousands of American clergy declared their opposition to the current strategy adopted by Congress in a campaign titled: “What would Jesus cut?”
Would Jesus cut a bloated defense budget which consumes 800 billion dollars a year? Or would Jesus cut--food stamps, education, medical care?
The real solution is if the United States taxed its citizens at the level of other countries including Canada, there would be no financial crisis.
South of the border the rich have never done better, and the poor never worse. And the middle class is shrinking away in a race to the bottom with low paid jobs for those able to find any work at all.
In the face of fear of economic collapse, the Christian response is to ask what our faith requires for the common good, for all the people, not just the rich. That is a consistent theme through the scriptures.
The bounty of the earth is for all to share. Jesus does not support survival of the fittest, but care for the poor, the disadvantaged.
And so rather than buy into the fear mongering about the US debt crisis, we should turn our attention to the unfolding humanitarian disaster unfolding in Africa, where a famine—the worst since the mid 1980’s, threatens 11 million people.
As Anglicans, we can give through the Primate’s Fund and donations will be matched by the Canadian government until mid-September.
Every time the stock markets tumble, like they did this past week because of economic uncertainty south of the border and in Europe, fear dominates our public square.
And with the internet and the 24 hour news cycle, it is hard not to be influenced by the climate of fear which strikes at times like these.
Fear of the unknown. Fear of the future. Fear of natural disaster. Fear for survival.
All those fears are part of our human condition. They were certainly present on that stormy night described in Matthew as the disciples left Jesus to pray and went out in the boat. There they were in the midst of an unexpected storm, and they kept getting further from land.
Suddenly in the middle of the night, they caught a glimpse of a figure amidst the waves.
They were terrified. They thought Jesus was still on the mountain top. They thought it was a ghost.
But it was Jesus: “Take heart, It is I,” he says. “Don’t be afraid.”
Those words echo through the ages to us as we live amidst the storms of life. Our faith is the way we are able to carry on, and overcome our fears.
This story can be viewed on many levels. It represents God with us in the storms of life.
We can also see the church as a boat, riding on the waves, with our faith in God giving us the strength to sail on and return to a safe harbour.
We can also see this whole story as a teaching about discipleship.
The disciples are challenged by the storms of persecution—opposition from the Pharisees, the Jewish religious authorities, soon to be joined by the Roman authorities. But inspired by Jesus, Peter makes a leap of faith, leaving the boat to walk on water.
He starts sinking and has doubts. But the story concludes with Jesus rescuing him and the disciples recognizing Jesus as the Son of God.
This movement from fear, to faith, then doubt, then worship expresses the complexity of the relationship we see between Jesus and his disciples in the Gospel.
It’s a complexity that makes the Gospels speak not only for the early Christians of those first few centuries, but for us now.
Fear is part of our lives. But we can’t let it take over our lives.
Jesus says: “Be not afraid.” That doesn’t mean there won’t be difficulties in our lives.
Hope can overcome fear. In the psalms the writers place their hopes in God in times of adversity.
Paul writes in his letter to the Romans that nothing can separate us from the love of God: not hardship, distress, persecution, famine, peril, death, powers, rulers. None of these can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.
The antidote to the fears of the world, is faith, hope and love.
We profess that faith and that hope in our closing prayer in the Book of Alternative Services drawn from the Letter to the Ephesians: “Glory to God whose power working in us can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.”
I am constantly humbled by the courage of those I care for in the midst of adversity. I think of Fran Skelton who so calmly and fearlessly faced suffering during the last years of her life, and particularly in her final struggle with cancer.
She never gave up hope. But she also faced death at peace.
Hope amid the storms of life. Faith amid the uncertainty of our age. Love amid the evil and strife in the world.
These are all part of our Christian journey. Hope must prevail over fear.
Getting back to fear over the US economic crisis, perhaps what is needed is for lawmakers in the US to step back and look at spending and what values it reflects.
Thousands of American clergy declared their opposition to the current strategy adopted by Congress in a campaign titled: “What would Jesus cut?”
Would Jesus cut a bloated defense budget which consumes 800 billion dollars a year? Or would Jesus cut--food stamps, education, medical care?
The real solution is if the United States taxed its citizens at the level of other countries including Canada, there would be no financial crisis.
South of the border the rich have never done better, and the poor never worse. And the middle class is shrinking away in a race to the bottom with low paid jobs for those able to find any work at all.
In the face of fear of economic collapse, the Christian response is to ask what our faith requires for the common good, for all the people, not just the rich. That is a consistent theme through the scriptures.
The bounty of the earth is for all to share. Jesus does not support survival of the fittest, but care for the poor, the disadvantaged.
And so rather than buy into the fear mongering about the US debt crisis, we should turn our attention to the unfolding humanitarian disaster unfolding in Africa, where a famine—the worst since the mid 1980’s, threatens 11 million people.
As Anglicans, we can give through the Primate’s Fund and donations will be matched by the Canadian government until mid-September.
Saturday 6 August 2011
Should Food Banks exist?
Homily St. Edmund’s, Tobermory,Ontario
July 31 Matthew 14:13-21
There was an opinion piece in the Globe and Mail this week which argued that the time has come to end the food banks which have for thirty years helped the poor and working poor.
Food banks began in the early 1980’s as a temporary measure to help people during a recession.
I was a reporter in Calgary at the time working for a daily newspaper and recall writing a story about the Calgary Interfaith Foodbank, a joint effort by religious groups in the city to help those hit by a downturn in the economy which had burst Calgary’s oil boom.
The idea then was that food banks would work themselves out of a job when prosperity returned.
But that never happened.
Christian Churches and other faith groups have long been the backbone of the food bank and soup kitchen system.
We recognize that feeding people who are hungry and don’t have anywhere else to turn doesn’t solve poverty, and it certainly isn’t efficient. It would be much better if people had the resources to buy their own food rather than have a donation and distribution system set up—with all that volunteer and paid labour.
But Jesus asks us to feed those who are hungry, to have compassion on those who are in need.
In many ways that is counter cultural. In the United States right now, the country is on the brink of financial chaos because the Republicans won’t agree to increased taxes on the rich to sustain needed social programs.
In Toronto there are proposals that nutrition programs at schools be removed from the city budget. These efficiency experts are no doubt motivated by “survival of the fittest” rather than compassion and a desire to help those less fortunate.
In the story from Matthew’s gospel Jesus makes it clear to the multitudes what he
Values: compassion and caring. He withdrew by boat to find some place to pray after hearing of the death of John the Baptist.
Yet when the crowd followed them he had compassion and tended to their needs, curing the sick.
The disciples urged him to send the crowds away, seeing the challenges of maintaining the necessities of life in this remote place.
But Jesus would have none of it.
Jesus tells the disciples to feed the people.
But we only have five loaves and two fish, they say.
But out scarcity comes abundance, thanks to God’s blessings. The crowd eat until they are filled with much left over.
This story is so important it is told with variations in all four gospels. As well as underlining the need for compassion, it also teaches us that through sharing, we can satisfy our needs. Through sharing we demonstrate our common humanity.
And for Christians it serves as a reminder of the practical application of the teaching of Jesus to love our neighbours, to feed the hungry.
July 31 Matthew 14:13-21
There was an opinion piece in the Globe and Mail this week which argued that the time has come to end the food banks which have for thirty years helped the poor and working poor.
Food banks began in the early 1980’s as a temporary measure to help people during a recession.
I was a reporter in Calgary at the time working for a daily newspaper and recall writing a story about the Calgary Interfaith Foodbank, a joint effort by religious groups in the city to help those hit by a downturn in the economy which had burst Calgary’s oil boom.
The idea then was that food banks would work themselves out of a job when prosperity returned.
But that never happened.
Christian Churches and other faith groups have long been the backbone of the food bank and soup kitchen system.
We recognize that feeding people who are hungry and don’t have anywhere else to turn doesn’t solve poverty, and it certainly isn’t efficient. It would be much better if people had the resources to buy their own food rather than have a donation and distribution system set up—with all that volunteer and paid labour.
But Jesus asks us to feed those who are hungry, to have compassion on those who are in need.
In many ways that is counter cultural. In the United States right now, the country is on the brink of financial chaos because the Republicans won’t agree to increased taxes on the rich to sustain needed social programs.
In Toronto there are proposals that nutrition programs at schools be removed from the city budget. These efficiency experts are no doubt motivated by “survival of the fittest” rather than compassion and a desire to help those less fortunate.
In the story from Matthew’s gospel Jesus makes it clear to the multitudes what he
Values: compassion and caring. He withdrew by boat to find some place to pray after hearing of the death of John the Baptist.
Yet when the crowd followed them he had compassion and tended to their needs, curing the sick.
The disciples urged him to send the crowds away, seeing the challenges of maintaining the necessities of life in this remote place.
But Jesus would have none of it.
Jesus tells the disciples to feed the people.
But we only have five loaves and two fish, they say.
But out scarcity comes abundance, thanks to God’s blessings. The crowd eat until they are filled with much left over.
This story is so important it is told with variations in all four gospels. As well as underlining the need for compassion, it also teaches us that through sharing, we can satisfy our needs. Through sharing we demonstrate our common humanity.
And for Christians it serves as a reminder of the practical application of the teaching of Jesus to love our neighbours, to feed the hungry.
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