Canon's Corner

We are Children of Abraham

2012-03-04T17:01:00.003-08:00

Homily Lent 2 Yr. B Genesis

One man stands out among all the characters in Genesis, the first book of the Bible. Yet Abram, renamed Abraham by God, is not a king like David, not adopted royalty, like Moses, not a prophet, like Elijah.

Abraham was instead a nomadic herder, or possibly a caravan merchant, born in Haran, on what is called the fertile crescent of Mesopotamia.

Yet in our great Biblical narrative Abraham stands out as the inheritor of the covenant that God made with Noah, as well as God’s blessing and promise that he will be the father of nations.

All this must have seemed so unlikely to Abram. He and his wife Sarah were well past child bearing age. And indeed when Abraham had a son Ishmael with Hagar, the Egyptian, God still promises Sarah, Abram’s barren wife, a child.

She laughs. But the last laugh is on her when she is with child, and Isaac is born. Hagar and Ishmael are expelled from the household, but go on to found descendants of Abram who would be Arabs.

Now Abraham is regarded as father of three great religious traditions: Christianity, Islam and Judaism.

All this from a nomadic patriarch who trusts God, and takes a leap of faith to follow God, and accept his blessing and the promise of a land for his people.

Perhaps the reason this reading is part of our Lenten series from Genesis is that we, like Abraham, are being prepared for a leap of faith, each Lenten season as we follow Jesus to the cross.

Our story of salvation starts with Abraham, after humanity has failed to live up to God's intention for us---first in the Garden of Eden, and then in the disobedience which led to the great flood.

God makes a covenant with Abraham, and demands obedience in the covenantal act of circumcision.

Paul says Abraham's faith is what made the covenantal relationship with God different. Abraham responded to God's call in faith.

Abram was a descendant of Noah's son, Shem. In Genesis 12 God summons Abram to leave his home in Haran, promising that he will be blessed as part of a great nation, and that his name will be great. "I will bless those who bless you and curse those who curse you," God says.

So God is calling on Abram to trust him. God will reveal where he is to live. God will be the source of his blessing and his success.

Abram's salvation will be in following God. This may sound simple. But it required great trust.

The society Abram lived in thousands of years ago was often dangerous and violent.

People lived in a time of peril, of doubt, of loss. It wasn't easy to have faith. It wasn't particularly comforting.

Unlike Moses Abram had no burning bushes. No ten commendaments from the top of the mountain.

God demanded obedience from Abram. He had to leave behind his family, his homeland and all that was familiar.

All this for the vague promise of journeying to the "Land I will show you."

One thing we can see from the account in Genesis is that Abraham doesn't evolve any kind of theology, or set of beliefs about God.

His faith is rooted in journeying with God, in obedience rather than settling down.

Sometimes it was hard to see the promise realized. His wife Sarah was barren for many years. The Canaanites inhabited the promised land and it wasn't fertile yet.

So faith wasn't easy. That's why God repeated the promise, the blessing and the covenant, as in today's reading.

Another thing worth thinking about. Abraham was not particularly a man of virtue. As well as fathering Ishmael with Hagar, Sarah's servant, he flees to Egypt to avoid famine and pretends Sarah is his sister. Saran is taken into Pharoah's household and Abraham is given sheep, oxen, donkeys, camels and slaves.

Pharoah finds out Sarah's true identity, but Abraham still leaves a rich man.

What does Abraham's story, Abraham's covenant with God mean to us as Christians thousands of years later.

Perhaps one of the things is should mean, but doesn't, is that we as Christians recognize we share a common heritage with Jews and Muslims. We are all children of Abraham.

Yet in our world today Christianity, Islam and Judaism often live in tension. There is a lack of understanding of our common story, our common holy places and our common beliefs.

Somehow we have drawn further apart, rather than closer together as believers in the one God. We all claim Abraham, but have allowed ourselves to divide into many factions--even within our own faith traditions.

God offers us a vision of harmony, of a blessing which is available to all Abraham's children.

In Lent maybe we can start to let go of our prejudices, and our egos, and seek to discern what God is calling us to do to claim God's blessing, to honour the covenant which Noah and Abraham made with him.

Moving on from the Mountain Top

2012-02-20T08:13:00.000-08:00

Homily Last Sunday after Epiphany year B

For the ancient Hebrews mountain top experiences were an important part of how they experienced their faith. Moses ascended a mountain and came back with the Ten Commandments that established a law for how to live.

For many of us, mountains are a place of adventure, of recreation, and of retreat, a place to get away from the distractions of day to day life. Our spirits are lifted by the glory of nature. We can see with great clarity, and we feel closer to God, our creator.

Today’s gospel reading tells of a mystical mountain top experience shared by Jesus with his most trusted disciples, Peter, James and John.

It is a pivotal moment in Mark’s Gospel narrative.

By the middle of Mark’s account, we have witnessed Jesus calling his disciples, teaching, healing, and casting out demons.

He has already told his disciples of his coming death and resurrection. “Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests and the scribe, and be killed and after three days rise again.”

Mark says six days after this prediction of his death Jesus takes Peter, James and John up a high mountain, “by themselves.”

While Jesus is there, he literally changes in front of their eyes and his clothes turn a dazzling white—a colour impossible to obtain by bleaching cloth.

To transfigure is defined in the dictionary as “to give a new and typically exalted or spiritual appearance to,” a definition which no doubt owes it origin to this Bible passage.

Mark describes Jesus as appearing with Elijah and Moses, thus establishing the continuity of God’s revelation through Moses to Elijah and then Jesus.

This tie between Jesus and Elijah is also underlined by our reading from the Old Testament which reminds us of how Elijah ascends like a whirlwind into heaven on his chariot of fire after leaving Elisha behind to carry on his work.

The most challenging part of the story is Peter’s immediate reaction to the transfiguration. He says to Jesus that the tiny group should stay on top of the mountain, and build three dwellings, one for each of Jesus, Elijah and Moses.

That’s when the voice comes from Heaven, as it had when Jesus was baptized, saying: “This is my son, the beloved, listen to him.”

As well as reinforcing the prediction Jesus has made just days earlier, Peter’s suggestion that the mountain top experience could somehow carry on, by building dwellings and staying there would seem to be a warning for us as we carry on our journeys of faith.

Mountain top experiences can be wonderful. Mountain top experiences of any kind. But we have to come back down the mountain.

The journey doesn’t end on the mountain top. We need to take the long view, and move on. Perhaps that will help us understand our challenge to be the church in a changing religious environment in North America.

Our mountain top may have been the 1950’s and 60’s when the churches were full, and the hub of the community in many ways. But we couldn’t stay on that mountain top. Society has changed. Sunday has changed. Only a third as many people go to church and there are many more churches.

That doesn’t mean we don’t continue to experience the presence of God, as individuals, as parishes.

Peter, James and John were witnesses to the supernatural power of God on the top of the mountain when they saw Jesus transfigured.

They didn’t really understand what they had seen, but it helped prepared them and the other disciples for what lay ahead.

They were the witnesses on which Christ built the church.

It may be hard for us to relate to supernatural events like this. After all if we reported seeing Moses and Elijah talking with Jesus while standing on top of one of the Rocky Mountains we might be accused of having too much to drink, or smoking funny cigarettes.

But some of us have probably had dramatic moments of spiritual insight, or God’s healing presence---experiences which can’t be explained by science.

Our visions and our spiritual awakenings are something only we can assess. Others may have had no such experiences but still feel God’s presence in their lives.

Our faith is something we can depend on in an age of uncertainty. Science and technology can’t give us all the answers, and lots of scientists would confirm that.

We need the hope our faith gives us in a world that has so much suffering and evil.

Mountain top experiences can be uplifting and inspiring as we serve Christ in an often bewildering world.

It’s sometimes hard to grasp all the information we have access to with the explosion in communications over the past few decades.

But mountain top experiences—experiences of joy, of beauty, of revelation of God’s presence and love for us—help us amidst a broken world.

We can’t build our home there, as Peter found out, but we can find strength to carry on with the journey.

The story of the Transfiguration is literally an answer to prayer. Usually in the Gospels when Jesus goes up to the mountain it is to pray, to be apart. This time he took three of his disciples with him.

As we prepare for the season of Lent, and the journey to Calvary and the empty tomb let us offer our prayers for strength on our Christian journey.

Praying for the Playoffs?

2012-02-12T12:58:00.000-08:00

Homily Epiphany 6

The Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Montreal apparently wants to offer divine intervention for the Montréal Canadiens.

The Archdiocese placed an ad in Montreal newspapers this week, encouraging people to pray for an eight-place finish — and a playoff spot —for the Montreal.

The ad shows the Eastern Conference standings with every team listed except the Canadiens. In eighth place, the final playoff spot, it simply says, “Let Us Pray.”

It’s a lighthearted, but serious attempt to connect the Catholic
Church to the other religion in Quebec, and elsewhere in Canada, hockey.

It is no coincidence that the jersey of Les Canadiens is called “La sainte flanelle” (the holy flannel). Following Les Canadiens is a serious matter. One fan has literally created a Habs “temple” in his house, with the appearance of a Catholic church, complete with altar, the centre of which sits a replica Stanley Cup.

I hate to disappoint the Habs faithful, but as St. Paul reminds us today, only one competitor can win in any competition. So the important thing is how you play the game—trying to do your best whatever the outcome.

As a Leafs fan I’ve had to remember that ever since the glory days, back in the 60’s when my beloved Maple Leafs won four Stanley Cups in six years.

Paul might have something to say to this year’s edition of the storied Canadiens. In today’s reading he reminds us that in a race all runners must compete, but only one receives the prize.

So while Les Glorieux may have had more success than any other team in North American professional hockey, they can’t rest on their laurels. Despite the prayers of the Montreal Archdiocese, they will have an uphill battle to make the playoffs.

The paradox Paul highlights is that all must run the race in a way to put themselves in a position to win. But only one succeeds.

The lesson for us as Christians is that while we won’t always win the race, we are ultimately seeking the prize which is imperishable—the chance to live in eternal oneness with God our creator and redeemer.

This isn’t pie in the sky by and by. Paul urges us not to run aimlessly, beating the air, but to exercise self control, and serve others.

The Jewishness of Jesus

2012-02-05T13:15:00.000-08:00

Homily Candlemas 2012

Many of our Christian feasts follow the same pattern as pagan feasts which came before them. Christmas follows the winter solstice by four days.

And today we are marking Candlemas, which is the final conclusion of the Christmas season, as the baby Jesus was presented in the Temple in Jerusalem 40 days after his birth, and his mother Mary took part in Jewish purification ceremonies.

The name Candlemas refers to the tradition of blessings and distributing candles during the service to symbolize Christ as the light of the world.

There are also superstitions related to Candlemas from Europe, where it was the time when bears and wolves emerged from hibernation to see if the weather was fair enough to leave their shelter.

That evolved in North America into Groundhog Day…Wiarton Willie and Puxatawney Phil.

Listen to this Scottish rhyme from centuries ago:

If Candlemas Day be dry and fair, the half o winter to come and mair, if Candlemas day be wet and foul, the half o winter gane at yule.

The eve of Candlemas---not Boxing Day as in many places these days—was when Christmas decorations of greenery came down.

Another poem from the 17th century by Robert Herrick: “Down with rosemary, and so, Down with the bays and mistletoe; Down with the holly, ivy, all, wherewith ye dress’d the Christmas hall.”

I remember an irreverent folk song from years past titled “Jesus, the Missing Years” by John Prine.

In Mark’s gospel those missing years amount to from Jesus birth to when he was about 30 and began his ministry.

But both Luke and Matthew have birth narratives and both emphasize the Jewishness of Jesus.

And that’s I was thinking about as I read and thought about today’s Gospel. One of the most despicable and regrettable phenomena in history has been the persistence of anti-Semitism.

Thanks to faulty interpretations of scripture, Jews have been called Christ killers and faced discrimination, persecution and even death. The evil of anti-Semitism ultimately laid the foundation for the Holocaust.

And this evil spread far beyond Nazi Germany. I recall seeing a historic photograph of a Canadian beach in the 30’s saying “No dogs or Jews.”

And this evil persists today on Neo Nazi websites.

Yet Jesus, the one who Simeon hails as the light of the world, was Jewish, born of Jewish parents, raised as a Jew, circumcised at eight days, presented at the age of 40 days in the Temple of Jerusalem.

Throughout his ministry Jesus taught in the synagogue. While there was a theme of conflict with Jewish religious authorities, Jesus never urged the creation of a new religion.

His teachings were to further illuminate the Hebrew scriptures that he had learned and quoted frequently.

For Luke, it important to show that Jesus was not rejecting Judaism and setting up a new religion, but building on the law and the teachings handed down from Abraham and Moses and Elijah.

So Jesus was thoroughly grounded in Hebrew tradition. And in Luke’s Gospel, the presentation story confirms that. The law of Moses has been followed in how the child Jesus is presented, or dedicated to God.

The next glimpse of Jesus we have in Luke is when he remained behind at the temple at age 12 to talk to the elders—a sort of re-dedication.

The stories of Simeon and Anna are meant to reinforce our understanding of Jesus as fulfilling the hopes and prayers of the people of Israel for a Messiah, a prophet, a redeemer.

Perhaps the most important teaching from the Candlemas readings is that we as Christians must remember our roots in Judaism, in the teachings of the Hebrew scripture.

In the early church some theologians tried to argue that with the agreement on the Canon—the books of the New Testament, the Old Testament, or Hebrew Scriptures, should be discarded.

But fortunately this view was never accepted. Jesus himself taught from the Hebrew Scriptures and quoted them frequently in the Gospel accounts.

As we read the Bible, we need always to remember Jesus was Jewish. He was a flesh and blood human being, as well as being the son of God.

As we study scripture we need to think about the context in which Jesus, and later Paul ministered. There is much to learn from this formative time in the life of our faith community.

A Faith Embodied; the Gospel of Mark

2012-01-29T14:05:00.000-08:00

Homily Epiphany 4 Yr. B

It was a time of uncertainty. A time of conflict. A time of destruction. A time of fear. But it was also a time of hope that a new vision would emerge from the ruins of the old.

The time I am talking about was about 70 years after the birth of Jesus. Jews in Palestine were in revolt against their Roman occupiers. In response the Temple of Jerusalem, rebuilt once before, was destroyed by the Romans.

Followers of Jesus, still a sect within Judaism, were caught in between the violence of Roman, and the violence of the Jewish militants.

It was at this time the first Gospel, the Gospel of Mark, which we use in the lectionary frequently this year, was written down. We now know nothing like Mark’s Gospel had ever been written down before.

Gospel literally means “good news.” It was not history, or biography. Mark started with the Baptism of Jesus in the wilderness, and covered the last three years of his life in a sparse account.

There is a sense of urgency in Mark’s account. He uses the word “immediately” often to move the action forward. The story is told in narrative style without the lengthy stories and discourses used in the other three Gospels.

Everything is condensed in Mark. There are only 16 chapters, and the Gospel ends with the empty tomb, and without any post-Resurrection appearances by Jesus.

Mark is the source for Luke and Matthew, but they add other material.

You’ll notice if you read Mark looking the teaching of Jesus, you won’t find much, although Mark refers to Jesus as a teacher 11 times, and mentions him teaching 16 times.

Take today’s Gospel. The people are astounded at the power and authority of the teaching of Jesus, yet what he is teaching is not recorded.

Jesus brings a new kind of authority, an authority which is different than what people are used to from the scribes and Pharisees—who Jesus is in conflict with throughout Mark’s narrative.

The messianic calling of Jesus is not proclaimed in Mark. Indeed Jesus often tells followers and those he heals to keep his identity a secret.

As in our reading from Deuteronomy, the messianic calling is embodied—for Jesus in acts of healing, casting out demons, acts of compassion and love.

Jesus is teaching us how to live by setting an example, as Paul does when he talks about what Corinthians should do if they are offered food left over from pagan sacrifices.

The book of Deuteronomy is a farewell message from Moses. He has led his people in the wilderness, and even seen the promised land from a mountain top but he will never get there.

In today’s reading we see anticipation that Israel will see a future prophet, one with authority. We see the yearning of the Hebrew people for a Messiah.

It is significant in today’s Gospel passage that Jesus makes his first public appearance at Capernaum. When he teaches in the synagogue there, the people recognize his authority. They are astounded by his teaching, Mark reports.

The encounter with the man with the unclean spirit is all about authority too.

“What have you to do with us Jesus of Nazareth. Have you come to destroy us. I know who you are, the Holy one of God.”

But rather than arguing, Jesus responds with compassion, healing the man, and casting out the spirit. By that act, he is defying the authority of the Scribes and Pharisees.

But Mark doesn’t want us to see Jesus simply as an exorcist, or miracle worker. Jesus wants his followers to look deeper into the symbolic nature of his acts of compassion.

How do we apply this in our lives?

Perhaps the most important lesson we can draw is that our Christian faith must be embodied in all parts of our lives—our work, our leisure activities, our relationships. Our life in the community.

Our faith is not a matter of believing a number of propositions. It is in living out the faith in the Risen Christ, who calls us to love God and love our neighbour as ourselves. Everything flows from that embodied faith.

We also need to prayerfully discern what we are called to do, at this time and in this place.

Our scriptures are not a historic document of events which happened 2,000 years ago. It is a living testimony of faith, which must be studied and applied.

We can be distracted from that task, and the task of living out our faith by many things: materialism, greed, addictions, anger, selfishness.

Yet it is in our life together with others that we can also live out our faith, caring and serving.

Our society often treats faith, or religion as an individual matter. But there is no escaping the social dimension.

In the next scene in Mark’s account, Jesus moves to bring healing to the “whole city” who are gathered at the place he is staying.

Then, as now, people are hungry for healing, and for hope.

A Whale of a Tale: Forgiveness and repentance

2012-01-22T13:48:00.000-08:00

Homily Epiphany 3 Yr. B 2012

You might not think of the Bible as a place where you will find satire. But what else can we make of the story of Jonah, which was written about the sixth century before Christ, when the Hebrew people were in exile in Babylon.

While today’s first reading only includes a few verses from the Book of Jonah, it is the only time we encounter Jonah in our three year lectionary. Since Jonah was included in our canon of scripture for a purpose, it’s worth considering the story.

To start off with here is a brief outline of the story, which only takes four brief chapters. Jonah is called by God to go and preach to Nineveh, a wicked and disobedient city.

But unlike the other prophets of the Hebrews, Jonah flees. Instead of going to Nineveh he jumps on a ship to escape God. So God sends a great storm. Jonah blames himself for the storm when confronted by the sailors, and they throw him into the sea. Then the storm stops.

God provides a large fish—we usually assume it was a whale—to swallow Jonah and he lives in the belly of the fish for three says and nights. He prays to God, expressing his faith and thanksgiving, and is answered when the fish spews Jonah out on land.

Then God speaks to Jonah again, and tells him to get to Nineveh, and proclaim the message of repentance that God wants him to proclaim. Jonah, having survived the fish, finally does what God asks and surprise, the people repent in sackcloth and ashes, including the king. They turn from their evil ways, and God does not bring a calamity on them.

This is where the story takes a twist. Instead of being happy to do God’s work, and see the people of Nineveh repent and turn away from Evil, Jonah is mad. He asks God to take his life.

Jonah retreats out of the city and waits to see what happens, camped under a bush God gave him to protect him from the sun. But the next day God sends a worm to attack the bush, so it withers. And the sun beats down on Jonah, bringing him again thoughts of dying.

So the story ends with God asking Jonah why he should be angry about the bush, and why God should not be concerned about Nineveh, a great city of 120,000 people who had lost their way.

Now what are we to make of this rather unusual story.

Jonah can be seen as sort of an anti-prophet. The only prophetic thing he says to the people of Nineveh ids a warning from God: “Forty days more and Nineveh shall be overthrown.”

Jonah hardly covers himself with glory in the story. He first refuses God’s call, and jumps a ship. Then he sleeps through a storm until others wake him. Then he ends up throwing a tantrum when God forgives the repentant people of Nineveh.

So Jonah is hardly what think of as a prophet—fearful, bitter, angry, depressed. In the end Jonah just can’t let go. Instead of rejoicing when the Ninevites are spared God’s wrath, he is shocked, and dismayed. He is more interested in punishing sinners, than seeing people turn towards God and away from evil.

So what does this story of Jonah—the reluctant, and angry prophet—have to say to us, living in such a different time and place.

Perhaps the best way to approach this is what Jonah might have meant to the Hebrew people in the sixth century BC.

It was a time of great upheaval for the Hebrews. They’d been driven out of their homeland, and they feared they might never be able to return. They wanted to maintain their identity against other cultures and religious faiths in the Persian empire. Some Hebrews wanted to separate into their own communities to resist integration. They also struggled with their fate as exiles. Was it a punishment by God?

The story of Jonah sets up Nineveh as a symbol of evil and wrongdoing. And when Jonah finally passes on God’s message of impending judgment, Jonah is expecting the God of the Hebrews will show no mercy and punish these evildoers.

When instead they repent, from the king on down, it shatters Jonah’s preconceptions, about the people of Nineveh, about God, and about himself, so hetells God it is better for him not to live.

But what Jonah considers undeserved forgiveness on God’s part has been shown throughout history to that time in God’s merciful treatment of the Hebrew people, despite their disobedience.

One of the themes raised by Jonah therefore becomes God’s acceptance of all people, regardless of their backgrounds, provided they repent and believe.

Jesus provides a contrast to Jonah as a prophet. He willingly accepts God’s call, and is baptized, and preaches to all a message of repentance and fogiveness. He also spends three days, not in the belly of the whale, but in between his death by crucifixion, and his rising again to new life.

The part of the Jonah story which most relates to our lives in the 21st century is the reluctant prophet…God calls us to live out our faith—to proclaim the Gospel, share the good news.

Yet at a time when that Good News is needed more than ever, we are reluctant. Like Jonah we are easily discouraged, and angered. We would sometimes, like Jonah, like to jump on a ship and go to sleep to avoid God’s calling.

Instead God calls us during this season of Epiphany to awaken to the light of Christ, and to shine that light into a world which is sometimes far too dark.

God's Call and Our Response

2012-01-15T15:58:00.000-08:00

Homily Second Sunday After Epiphany Year B, 2012

When were you called by God?

That’s a question which is raised when we think about today’s reading from Samuel, parts of the 139th psalm, and the passage from John’s Gospel.

We often think in terms of our lives as consumers, customers, making informed choices about education, leisure pursuits, friends, activities, and even what we believe about politics and faith issues.

And yet this idea of call and response is at the centre of today’s scriptural teaching.

That’s not to say we don’t have free will. As Christians we believe God creates us with free will. God also is present with us. God cares for us. God sent his son Jesus to share in our humanity, and the holy spirit to give us strength.

So we don’t believe our lives are all mapped out, and we don’t have any choices. We are not simply marionettes. Like many other Christians we do not believe in what is called pre-destination.

Having said that Samuel, the psalmist and John all remind us of God’s call, and the power of that call in our lives, if we respond.

Think of those powerful words in the psalm: “You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother’s womb. My frame was not hidden from you, When I was away in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, Your eyes saw my unformed body.”

So our intimacy with God is both inspiring, and frightening. That’s what makes Christianity different from other monotheistic religions, we believe in God who is both omniscient—over all the universe---and personal. To be on intimate terms with the creator of the universe is frightening.

There is nothing we can hide from God. Some people feel threatened by that.

During the past two thousand years since the calling of those first disciples outlined in John’s Gospel, call and response have been at the centre of our lives as Christians.

This is how we have grown from a small Jewish sect in an outlying corner of the Roman Empire to the largest body of religious believers in the world, some 2.3 billion people. While our numbers are somewhat in decline in the affluent west-Europe and North America, they are growing in South America, Africa and Asia.

“Your works are wonderful, O Lord. Lord you have searched me out and known me; you know my sitting down and my rising up; you discern my thoughts from afar,” says the psalmist.

That’s a hard concept to grasp. Maybe it is more difficult for us in an age of affluence and technological progress, since we think we can do it all ourselves. Our human pride doesn’t allow us to conceive of God as co-creator of the ongoing life of the world.

God didn’t just create the universe, then sit back and let things happen. We believe in God who created, and is creating, through the Holy Spirit.

God calls us over and over, as he did the young Samuel. God knows us before we know him, as Nathaniel found out.

Philip had been called by Jesus, and Philip in turn witnessed to Nathaniel about Jesus. Nathaniel initially doubted—hence the famous line—can anything good come out of Nazareth?” But Philip persists: “Come and See.”

Nathaniel does meet Jesus, and comes to faith.

The style of evangelism Philip used has always been the most effective. You can tell someone what a difference your faith has made, and how much your faith community, your parish means to you. However in order to evangelize, or share the good news, you have to ask them to “come and see.”

Our scripture readings today stress the importance of making that invitation.

When I think of how I got involved again with a parish after finishing university and moving out west, it was based on an invitation. Some friends who I worked with were members of the Cathedral choir in Edmonton. I had never sung in a choir since grade school—too busy with other things, but I had never been invited.

And when I turned up I found quite a mix of people from choir boys still in elementary school to seniors. The choirmaster was a crusty Australian, Hugh Bancroft who had come to Canada and made his home as musician—playing organ and directing choirs in Anglican Cathedrals in Winnipeg then Edmonton. We use his hymn “There’s a Voice in the Wilderness” during Advent.

So I found a home in All Saints Choir and when I moved to Calgary, was asked again to join the choir at the first parish I joined there.

So call has been important in my life—not only in terms of being a choir member and active in parish life, but in later discerning a call to ordained ministry after 20 years as a journalist.

We can all be called to different ministries in the church, and we can respond to that call in some way no matter what our age, or what the circumstances are.

Our parish is in the midst of a challenging time of discerning its call to ministry, and how that might look, both in the short term, and in the longer term. We are working as a parish council, and as a congregation to look at the future, and what kind of parish we will be, and what that would entail—in terms of change.

Might we become partners with another parish? Could we share priestly ministry?
How would we make best use of buildings and other assets?

How do we move forward with a committed but heavily taxed group of lay volunteers—now combined with a full-time priest and part-time organist, secretary and janitorial staff---but in the fall looking at part-time clergy coverage.

There are no easy solutions, and Archdeacon Millward told the parish council and other interested parishioners yesterday that of the 34 parishes he supervises as archdeacon—thirteen will have vacancies by the fall. So there will be a shortage of clergy, at least for the short term.

But it all comes back to call. This is a major time of change for the church, and we are not alone in facing these difficult challenges. We have to discern our call to ministry and how we can build sustainable parishes.

As the Archdeacon told us, there is no master plan that would close this parish or any other. That decision is up to the parish.

Parishes do face the challenge that if they don’t make positive decisions to change, they will be left in a position where there is simply no other alternative.

Whatever happens we need to remember that none of this is our fault. The parish faces a radically different society, and a radically different mission field than during its heydays in the 1950’s. Sundays are no longer for church for most people—even nominal Christians use Sundays—including Sunday mornings as a day for sports, family time, social activity, and community events.

With two income families, time is in short supply for parents of young children, and even the evangelical churches have a somewhat older demographic than they used to.

So let us accept the things we cannot change, as the old saying goes, and realize that this parish has a rich history, which we give thanks for, and a future which is uncertain. Let us pray for wisdom and patience as move into a wilderness time where we are clearly seeking direction, and God’s blessing.

The Light of the World

2012-01-08T13:08:00.000-08:00

Epiphany 2012

Often the story of the three wise men gets mixed in with the rest of the Christmas story, as if the wise men showed up at the stable in Bethlehem shortly after the shepherds departed, just as in our Sunday School Christmas pageants in days past.

And of course there’s the old joke that answers the question--what if the wise men were wise women?

If there had been three wise women...
They would have asked for directions
They would have been on time
They would have assisted with the birth
They would have cleaned the stable
They would have brought more practical gifts and held a potluck!

As we mark Epiphany today we celebrate both a feast day and a season in the church year, which is an important part of the larger narrative, and not just a colourful footnote to the story of the birth of Jesus.

What Matthew was drawing on when he told this story is prophetic tradition of the Hebrew Scripture, as we heard this morning in the passage from Isaiah.

Isaiah says nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn, and he mentions two of the three gifts that will come from the Magi from the east—gold and frankincense.

So we have a story that dramatizes the cosmic impact of the birth of Jesus Christ.

Matthew doesn’t say exactly when the Magi arrive. Our best guess is that Jesus was still an infant under two years old when they approached Herod, and then found the child in Bethlehem with his parents and brought their gifts.

Not only are the gifts symbols, but the Magi themselves are symbols. The church has celebrated the season of the Epiphany as Jesus Christ manifested to the gentiles, for the first time.

We see the story of the nativity of Jesus becoming a turning point, not only for the people of Israel, but for the whole world.

The story of the Magi or Wise Men is somewhat sketchy on details. The church in the west has established three as the number, based on the gifts, and even given the wise men names. But that isn’t in Matthew. The Orthodox church believes there were actually 12 wise men.

The idea that the wise men who visited were three in number comes from the travels of Marco Polo, a diary dictated by the explorer while imprisoned in the 12th century in Genoa.

Marco Polo visited the tombs of three Persian kings in his travels. The story told to him by locals was that these three kings travelled to Judea with three gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh to determine if Jesus was a king, god or healer. If he accepted the gold, he was a king, the frankincense, a god and the myrrh, a healer. According to the story told to
Marco, the baby Jesus accepted all three.

Part of the symbolism in the story that has become part of our Epiphany celebration has been the idea that they were kings…so that the kings from the east come to bring tribute to Christ, the new born King.

However, because of the star being charted, they could also have been astrologers.

Another character in the story is definitely historical. Herod was Rome’s puppet ruler. He was a murderous and jealous man who killed his own family members to retain power.

The response to the wise men is not surprising. Herod’s scheming, and jealousy prompt him to order the execution of male babies under two, and Joseph, warned in a dream takes the Holy family to Egypt.

The gifts the Magi bring—gold for a king, frankincense for worship, and myrrh, a burial spice—foreshadowing the death of Jesus.

So we have a story full of symbolism which can be taken on many levels.

But at the centre is that Jesus was born, not just for the Jewish people in one small corner of the Roman Empire, but for all humanity, for all time.

The details aren’t as important as that central truth. And as we celebrate this season of Epiphany we have to think about our calling as Christians—to focus outward. To share the good news with others we meet.

That is one message of Epiphany.

Another is provided by the Wise Men, however many there were, and however they came to Jesus. These were learned men, who studied their own traditions, and the patterns of the stars in the skies, to learn that this cosmic event would happen.

They knew this was something remarkable. Something worth journeying to, a sign they could follow to confirm what they only supposed to be true.

They actually did ask for directions, contrary to the joke,
and they were wary of Herod when he tried to use them for his own purposes.

When their journey led to Jesus, they were full of gratitude and gave thanks for the chance to bring their gifts.

Perhaps the Wise Men also give us an example in Christian journey. First, they studied, then they discerned a new truth, which they wanted to test.

Then, in order to discover the reality of the new truth, they had to go on a journey, with all its pitfalls.

Our journey as followers of Christ is not easy. There are many ups and downs as we try to be faithful. In our own lives, in our families, in our communities and in the wider world we try to follow the teaching of Jesus.

We follow the light of Christ in this season of Epiphany, of new understanding, of new birth. The light shines in the darkness and it can not be extinguished.

What's in a name?

2012-01-02T09:32:00.000-08:00

Homily Naming of Jesus 2012

What’s in a name? The biblical answer to that question is everything.

Names were so important to the Hebrew people that they would not even speak the name of God—it was so sacred.

Today we celebrate the naming of Jesus, mentioned only in Luke’s Gospel.

The name Jesus is rooted in the Hebrew name Joshua. That’s important because it was Joshua who took over leadership of the people of Israel from Moses after they wandered in the wilderness for 40 years, and finally led them to the promised land.

Jesus would have been known as Jesus bar Joseph, or Jesus of Nazareth—to indicate either family or place ties. The word Christ is actually a title—like Messiah, Lord, King.

One of the reasons Luke mentions the naming of Jesus is the emphasis on continuity between the Hebrew tradition of the Torah and other sacred texts of the Hebrew Scriptures and the life and witness of Jesus which is the focus of Luke’s Gospel.

So like any good Jewish infant, Jesus is named eight days after he is born, and he is circ umcised. His mother Mary also follows Hebrew customs of purification for mothers who have just given birth.

The one difference of course is that the name Jesus is given by the Angel before Jesus was conceived by the Holy Spirit.

So the birth and naming of Jesus fulfilled divine revelation in the Hebrew scripture. Luke also wanted to emphasize that the law handed down to Moses was being followed.

We are reminded of the Jewishness of Jesus. We have to remember during most of the first century there was no separate Christian church. The followers of Jesus were a sect within Judaism. Jesus asked his followers to preach the good news to all the world. He didn’t specifically call for the formation of the church.

This Sunday as we remember the naming of Jesus, perhaps we need to think more about the Jewish roots of Christian faith, and honour that part of our tradition.

Sadly throughout history many Christians have been guilty of anti-Semitism---mis-reading John’s Gospel and viewing Jews in an extremely negative light.

As we learn more an more about ancient history from archeological finds, we can reach a much better understanding of where our faith tradition came from.

The other part of this day which marks the naming of Jesus is the celebration of Mary’s role in the birth of Christ. Mary’s courage, her wisdom, and her obedience is celebrated in Luke’s telling of the birth story.

While we may not elevate Mary to the role the orthodox have for her—Theotokos or God bearer, or follow the pietism of the Roman catholic Church in its Marian tradition, we can recognize that in Mary we have young woman who was chosen by God for a very special special role of mother of Jesus.

In that sense we need to celebrate Mary as the first saint of what would later become the company of saints of the church. Another name to be revered in our rich Judeo-Christian faith tradition.

In the Beginning was the Word

2011-12-25T13:29:00.001-08:00

Homily Christmas Day Proper 3

When the Bishops of the church meeting together in the fourth century had to choose the Canon of scripture, that is the books that they judged were worthy of being sacred texts, inspired by God, they settled on four Gospels—all different accounts of the life and teaching of Jesus Christ.

Today’s Gospel is John’s alternative to the birth narratives in Matthew and Luke, and the absence of a birth narrative in Mark, which begins the life of Jesus with his baptism by John.

Instead of story, John uses poetry in what is often called the prologue to his Gospel.

Since John is writing to a persecuted Jewish Christian community which has been expelled from the synagogue, this prologue is an attempt to clearly establish Jesus as the Son of God, who has existed since the beginning of time as part of the Godhead.

The word, or logos, was with God from the beginning of time-the creation. The word is the light in the darkness.

John comes as a witness to the light, to testify to the light. And then Jesus, the word, becomes flesh, and dwells among us.

Yet as John’s community found, Jesus the word, was not accepted by his own people.

So John’s Gospel provides a theological view of the incarnation, the birth of Christ, the word made flesh.

While there is no birth story as such, it seems to me we need to think in larger terms about the birth of Christ, and its place in history.

Paul’s Letter to the Hebrew does this too. He reminds his readers that God has spoken through his prophets in many ways, but with Jesus, God has spoken in a new way—with an heir “of all things.”

Paul says Jesus is "the reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being, and he sustains all things by his powerful word.”

This reminder to a Jewish Christian readership emphasizes the continuity between the Hebrew scriptures, and the stories which would later become the Gospels and the rest of the New Testament.

We always have to remember when Paul was writing, there was no New Testament, and Jews and Jewish Christians alike would only have had the Hebrew Scriptures and the oral tradition of stories about Jesus.

So as we celebrate the birth of Christ today, it’s helpful to add to the wonderful story of a babe in manger, the more cosmic story of John.

"In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God."

And the conclusion of this stirring passage—“And the word became flesh and lived among us and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.”

In a broken world, that glory, that grace and truth, reminds us of God’s gift to us—a gift that keeps giving, and kept be taken away. Thanks be to God.

The Messiness of the Birth of Christ

2011-12-25T13:25:00.000-08:00

Christmas Eve Homily 2011, Proper 1

There is a tendency to romanticize the story of the birth of Jesus found in Luke’s Gospel. We think of Christmas card images…shepherds in handsome robes, gathered around a fire…a sky full of stars, one of which is immense and hangs over Bethlehem…a baby in a manger with fresh hay in the stable and a pastoral scene of animals quietly grazing.

But we have to remember those images present a somewhat unrealistic idea of what actually happened that first Christmas eve.

One key to the story is that it happens at night, a time of fear, a time of danger.

The shepherds lived under Roman occupation, as did Joseph and Mary.

And historians tell us shepherds, who were the first witnesses of Jesus birth were outcasts from society, looked down on, poor…just the kind of people Jesus talks about reaching out to in his ministry three decades later.

The angels, messengers of God, don’t appear to rabbis, or landowners, or even shop owners, they appear to lowly shepherds, and it’s no surprise the shepherds are fearful.

So the angels first words are “Be not afraid.”

And those words are still at the heart of the Christian Gospel, the Gospel of Christ, more than two thousand years later.

Around our world we see danger and fear—of many things—from natural disasters, to climate change, to war, to persecution, to homelessness and starvation.

Yet the message of Christmas, the message of Jesus is that God is with us, bringing light into the darkness.

Our brothers and sisters in Christchurch, New Zealand are celebrating Christmas with outdoor services, reports Bishop Victoria Matthews.

An earthquake, the latest of many, hit Christchurch on Dec. 23. It was not as damaging as the earthquake that destroyed much of the city’s downtown earlier this year, but it has renewed fears of ongoing quakes which threaten efforts at reconstruction.

The Bishop writes the outdoor services aren’t about: “buildings falling down but about having large numbers of people from the very young to the elderly in close quarters in the event of another tremor. Outdoors, away from buildings will allow for community, but not crowding. I know it isn’t what most expected, but that first Christmas was very messy also, and there was a life saving outcome from that extraordinary gathering.”

The first Christmas was very messy, and dark, and dangerous. It wasn’t like a Hallmark Christmas card.

Herod feared the birth of Jesus, and Matthew tells us the story of the Holy family fleeing to Egypt to avoid persecution. So they were refugees.

And as New Zealand Christians gather for the torchlight (they call flashlights torches) services, they will undoubtedly be very conscious of the darkness and danger of the first Christmas eve.

It is worth considering that the birth of Jesus was announced only to his immediately family, to John the Baptist and his family and to the Shepherds and the wise men.

Otherwise, the birth is unheralded. The religious leaders, and wealthy people who held authority in Israel were not told.

The birth of Jesus, came not in a palace, but in a rough stable. Jesus was born to ordinary parents, not of noble birth.

What are we to draw from this simple yet powerful story of Christ’s birth in such an unexpected way, in such an out of the way place.

Perhaps it is that power and wealth aren’t what really count. It is what is in our hearts that matters. The good news the angels announce is the beginning of what would become a call to repentance, a call to hope and a call to a new way of life in harmony with God and other human beings.

We, as Christians, are called to live in community, to model the life of Christ, to live in peace and justice and to love each other.

As the prayer book service says, quoting scripture: “This is the first and great commandment, that thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and all thy soul and all thy strength. This is the first and great commendment. The second is like unto it. Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.”

Living that out is far from easy. One term, that has been used to describe our western society in recent years, is “affluenza.”

We get so caught up in materialism, in shopping in consuming ever more that we lose our compass. We don’t care for others as we should. We allow too many riches to be concentrated in too few hands while others struggle without jobs, food, proper shelter, or hope.

Christ was born in poverty, and throughout his ministry he lived as an itinerant preacher, teacher and healer, with few possessions but the clothes on his back.

He reminds us that it isn’t ultimately what you have in riches which matters, but the spirit in our hearts and minds.

When I think of Christmas stories outside the Bible, I often come back to the Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.

Ebenezer Scrooge learns through his encounter with spirits of Christmas past, present and future, that accumulating wealth does not bring happiness. Instead, it can bring loneliness and despair.

We, like Scrooge, can find new enjoyment of life if we seek opportunities to help others, build relationships and seek to live out our Christian faith.

Hope, grounded in faith is what sustains us as Christian people in this broken world. Jesus is the light of the world, a light no darkness can extinguish.

Listen to the Prophets

2011-12-12T05:20:00.000-08:00

Homily, Advent 3, Yr. B 2011

“And the sign said, the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls. And the tenement halls. And whispered in the sounds of silence.”

Simon and Garfunkel wrote those words more than 50 years ago. And they could apply to the words of the Prophet Isaiah we heard today.

“The Spirit of God, the Master, is on me because God anointed me. He sent me to preach good news to the poor, heal the heartbroken, announce freedom to all captives, pardon all prisoners.

This passage in Isaiah was so important that it was read by Jesus in the fourth chapter of Luke’s Gospel, when he was beginning his ministry.

When Jesus read it, and said it applied to him, people got so mad they kicked him out of town. He was a threat to the way things worked in that community and every other community.

The message of Jesus was to change lives—heal the sick, comfort the afflicted, and most threatening—afflict the comfortable.

What Jesus preached was not salvation in some future existence—pie in the sky by and by.

The words of the prophet Isaiah were for Isaiah’s time, they were for Jesus time and they are for today.

The words of the prophet are aimed at those groups who are marginalized in society: the poor, the heartbroken, captives and prisoners. These are real people.
Salvation, according to Isaiah, is not about getting to heaven
but about life in the here and now.

So what would salvation look like in Isaiah’s view?

God sent me to announce the year of his grace -to comfort
all who mourn, To care for the needs of all who mourn in Zion, give them bouquets of roses instead of ashes, Messages of joy instead of news of doom, a praising heart instead of a languid spirit. Rename them "Oaks of Righteousness" planted by God to display his glory.

That’s Isaiah’s vision. That is a vision of a mission for God’s people.

Our Diocese is trying to seek a new direction—a direction which turns our focus outward into mission. Mission happens when we turn our attention to those who are named as recipients of the Good News: the poor, the oppressed, , the brokenhearted, the captives, the poor in spirit.

When we are called to turn our attention, we are not called just to write a cheque. Financial support of mission is important, but it is our personal engagement as members of the body of Christ, and members of a faith community that matters even more.

The great Anglican Archbishop of Canterbury William Temple said the church is the only institution that exists for those who are not its members.

We exist, not to give money, but for the sake of those who are poor, oppressed and brokenhearted. How we are living out the words of Isaiah?

One of the ironies of our current economic system is that the richest part of society—the top one percent the Occupy movement has been directed against-- is rewarded so out of proportion to its
contribution to our economy.

While the church has often been aligned with power and privilege, the Bible, especially in pssages like this one in Isaiah is firmly rooted in caring for the poor and the oppressed.

Mary’s Magnificat has vision of that redistribution of wealth when it says God has “filled the hungry with good things and has sent the rich empty away.”

Jesus has many things to say about the rich people of his time, mostly landowners because Israel was a feudal agrarian society. And most of them are not good.

So as we live in a world where millions upon millions of people are homeless and hungry, while others live in unimaginable—even to us—opulence, there is a need for the church to remember its prophetic roots in Hebrew scripture.

There is a deep yearning for peace and justice, not in some distant future, but as a goal worth struggling for now.

Our Christian faith should not be a privatized faith that sees Christ’s teaching as something which will have to wait until Heaven.

We believe as Christians that God’s kingdom can be realized on earth through the struggle for peace and justice, and following Christ’s great command—to love God and love our neighbours as ourselves.

In Advent we are proclaiming the good news, the good news of John, that God cares for us, and he sends his son as a light to the world.

That Good News means paying attention to the prophets—who tell us that God hates robbery and wrongdoing, loves justice, and offers comfort to the poor, the afflicted and the downtrodden.

I was watching 60 Minutes recently. The documentary reported that not a single executive involved in the banking industry has been brought to justice for the fraudulent mortgage schemes which caused the great economic downturn in 2008 and have forced many thousands of homes to be foreclosed, and caused many people to lose their homes.

In a society which imprisons more of its citizens—mostly poor people—than any other in the world per capita—this indicates what a complete absence of fairness and justice there is…and this in a predominantly Christian country.

So we have a long way to go. And we need to listen to the prophets and to Jesus as we seek to bring the good news to our own communities.

Advent: A Time for Rousing

2011-12-04T13:08:00.000-08:00

Homily Advent 2, Yr. B, 2011

Now we are in the heart of Advent, a season of darkness where we are turning towards the light. We long for the coming of Jesus we are introduced to one of the real characters of the Bible, John the Baptist.

There are many parallels between the life of John the Baptist and of Jesus of Nazareth.

In Mark’s Gospel of the good news of Jesus Christ the beginning scene is not of a baby in a manger, born of Mary and Joseph, but a wild prophet in the wilderness, a desert, who lives off the land and preaches a gospel of repentance.

In some ways John personifies Advent. His message is clear—prepare for the Lord, the Messiah, the one who Israel has hoped for throughout its history.

John is a prophet. He invites the people of Israel to repent and change their lives, and signify this change through baptism in the waters of the Jordan River.

John is feared not only by the Jewish religious leaders, but by Herod the King.

Josephus, a historian from that period, says this of John:

“Now when many others came in crowds about him, for they were greatly moved by hearing his words, Herod, who feared lest the great influence of John had over the people might put it into his power and inclination to raise a rebellion (for they seemed ready to do anything he should advise), thought it best by putting him to death, to prevent any mischief he might cause, and not bring himself into difficulty by sparing a man who might repent of it before it should be too late. Accordingly he was sent a prisoner, out of Herod’s suspicious temper, to Machrus, …and was there put to death.”

In our Gospels we are told John’s execution was caused when he criticized Herod for marrying his brother’s wife, and we have the ghoulish story of the Baptist’s head being brought out to honour a promise Herod makes to Salome.

Either way it seems clear that John, like Jesus was unafraid of offending the authorities, and taught without fear.

We could see John’s arrest as the turning point in the Gospels because after John, who prepared the way, is gone, then Jesus begins his ministry.

Jesus has been baptized by John, and commissioned for his own ministry of teaching and healing, and the journey to the cross.

Jesus must face the same hostility from the Jewish religious authorities, King Herod and ultimately the power of Rome, that John faced.

To begin that intense period of ministry, Jesus, like John heads for the wilderness, the desert, where he must face temptation before undertaking his remarkable world changing journey.

Jesus, like John, says repent for the Kingdom of God is at hand.

But we can’t and won’t ever know when the Kingdom of God, or the second coming of Christ will happen. So we live in hope and expectation.

There is no minimizing how difficult it is to understand the gaps between our hopes and dreams and the current reality of our lives.

Dietrick Bonhoeffer, a German Lutheran pastor imprisoned for resisting the Nazis wrote before his death:

“Life in a prison cell reminds me a great deal of Advent—one waits and hopes and potters about, but in the end what we do is of little consequence, for the door is shut and can only be opened from the outside.”

So hope is challenging even for our greatest and most courageous theologians.

Another prisoner of the Nazis, Alfred Delp, wrote this meditation:

“Advent is a time for rousing. Human beings are shaken to the very depths, so that they may wake up to the truth of themselves. The primary condition for a fruitful and rewarding Advent is renunciation and surrender…a shattering awakening; that is the necessary preliminary. Life only begins when the whole framework is shaken.”

One of the reasons we observe Advent as part of the church year is to engage in a season of repentance, of watchfulness, of preparation before the celebration of the birth Jesus, and then Epiphany, the manifestation of Christ to the world.

We lose part of our Christian heritage if we treat Advent simply as a countdown to Christmas, and move too quickly from the wilderness with John the Baptist, to the shepherds in the fields listening to the Angels and rushing to the stable in Bethlehem.

Of course the wider culture is already in the midst of celebrating the Christmas of Santa Claus, shopping and presents. And Christmas carols have been heard in the stores since Halloween.

We are called to stay in the wilderness, at least in our thoughts, a bit longer as we mark this Advent season. It is a time of waiting, of expectation, and of joy.

Delp while still a prisoner also described joy “when one is curiously uplifted by a sense of inner exaltation and comfort. Outwardly nothing is changed…Yet one can face it undismayed. One is content to leave everything in God’s hands.”

Another prison admonition comes from Paul in his letter to the Philippians: “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say rejoice.”

A message of faith, and a message of joy in spite of suffering.

Wait, Watch and Hope this Advent

2011-11-27T13:42:00.000-08:00

Homily Advent 1, Year B, Nov. 27, 2011

This morning we are here to think about hope. The hope and expectation we feel during the season of Advent each year as we await the time we celebrate the birth of the Saviour, God with us, Emmanuel.

Today’s readings may seem to have a darker tone than one might expect for a message of hope. They certainly leave themselves open to misinterpretation.

Jesus says: “In those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened and the moon will not give its light and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the power in the heavens will be shaken.” All this precedes the Son of Man coming with great power and glory.

Needless to say this vivid picture of the end times has created fear among some listeners and hearers throughout the ages.

And many times throughout human history at times when things have looked their worst, people have feared that the end times Jesus talked about were happening.

Our time may be such a time. Although there are no large scale wars right now, peace is fragile, and many nations are struggling with violence and internal conflict.

Environmental degradation, climate change, economic uncertainty, unemployment, hunger, and homelessness are issues which face not only third world countries but the affluent west.

The age of scientific progress and prosperity we thought we were moving towards in the 1950’s, has been replaced by a situation where many young people wonder what the future holds for them.

This malaise holds true for the church as well. Where in the 50’s we were building new churches and our pews were packed, we are now struggling—at least in the mainstream denominations—just to survive and refocus our mission and ministry.

So we like the writer of Isaiah in exile could: “O that thou wouldest rend the heavens and come down.”

Yet Jesus teaches us we will not know the time for the end days, the second coming of the Son of Man, the term he uses to describe himself as the Messiah foretold in Hebrew Scripture.

We have to live in hope, remembering as the early Jewish Christians did, that when the Temple of Jerusalem was demolished by the Romans, it would create an opportunity to focus on God’s intervention in the world, by sending his son Jesus to come among us, to be crucified and to rise again in glory.

As well as having hope, the season of advent is one of watchfulness.

One of the dangers we face is the opposite of watchfulness—sleep walking through life, drifting without purpose.

Instead of sleepwalking our Christian faith calls us to watch and pray, so we won’t fall into sin, to watch, so we are always open to renewal and growth in our own spiritual journeys, and also to watch for opportunities to serve God by serving our fellow human beings.

That’s why during the Advent season as we prepare for Christmas it is a chance to reflect on our many blessings, and think about opportunities to help those less fortunate.

We need to avoid getting caught up in the consumerism which marks the season—from Black Friday last week to frantic last minute shopping Christmas Eve.

Rather than the self-gratification of acquiring more material goods, Advent is marked by the words, come…as in Come Lord Jesus, wait….as in beware, keep alert for you do not know when the time will come…and remember…remember to have patience and humility.

God is faithful. That is the message from the earliest Hebrew Scripture to the Book of Revelation.

We can trust in God, who brought His divine love into the world in human form in a baby born in a manger in a humble stable in Bethlehem in a poor and unremarkable part of God’s creation.

So let us wait, let us watch and let us prepare, during this season of Advent. Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Finding our Mission in the 21st Century

2011-11-20T13:54:00.000-08:00

Prodigal God Series #6, Reign of Christ Sunday

If you watch television news, read a newspaper, listen to radio, or scan the internet, you’ll find signs of a world in chaos. While science and technology have brought great wealth to a few, many of have been left out of the prosperity of the 21st century.

Today we celebrate Reign of Christ Sunday. As followers of Christ we have not only that he came to the world as God’s incarnate son, that he died for us, and the he rose again on the third day, and lives forever, proclaiming the Gospel to the world.

The Gospel of Christ is the gospel of the Prodigal God, a God who is extravagantly generous to us, whether we deserve it or not. Like the father in the parable of the prodigal son, God offers us the Feast of the Father, a feast that all are invited to, regardless of nation, race or background.

As Matthew’s gospel tells us, when the son of man comes in glory, those who inherit the kingdom, the sheep… will be those who gave food to the hungry, welcome to the stranger, clothing to unclothed, care to the sick, and made the effort to visit those in prison.

In doing this “to the least of these” we do it to Jesus, the Christ.

But the goats, who are condemned to separation from God, are those who refused to feed, care for, welcome or visit “the least of these.”

This is tough stuff.

It means as Christians we are called to a faith that is far more than just following the law, doing what is right morally speaking, and professing our faith by attending worship.

It means we are called to mission and ministry, to follow the teaching of Christ
.
That’s where today’s celebration of the Reign of Christ links up with the Prodigal God series.

The purpose of looking in depth at this parable, and other related scripture passages is so we see see the link between our future as the church of Christ in this Diocese, and an outward focus on mission.

It’s one of the hardest things to come to grips with. Yet the teaching is there in scripture and it has been true throughout the history of the church.

The church is at its most faithful when it reaches out to the community. Historically Anglicans have played a major role in education, health, social welfare, and the life of the community.

However during the past half century that role has eroded as society has changed. As I’ve said before, it isn’t our fault, but the whole mission field has changed fundamentally. There are more churches than ever in Sarnia, and most of the traditional churches are shrinking while the more fundamentalist churches, with contemporary music and very little if any liturgy, are doing best with the minority of younger people who are active Christians.

That doesn’t mean Anglicans, or others who follow a more traditional pattern of liturgy, and a less literal approach to scripture, are going to disappear from the scene.

The reason we’ve followed this Diocesan wide study is to get us thinking beyond survival, and what our mission as Anglicans in southwestern Ontario is during the next decade.

Jesus is the Good Shepherd, the one who never ceases to seek our salvation, and draw us to himself.

Jesus does this not so that we escape the world, but so that we are sent out as his disciples, with the help of the Holy Spirit, to share the good news, to feed, clothe and befriend those in need.

That is the essence of the reign of Christ, living out Christ’s teaching, celebrating our fellowship by sharing his body and blood, reconciling ourselves to one another in all our weakness, and sin.

If we look at the elder brother in the parable, we can see that if he had responded to his younger brother’s return by rejoicing, rather than groaning, cheering rather than jeering, that he would be following Jesus, the true elder brother who calls us to join the feast of the father.

A personal faith or relationship with God isn’t enough. It is by joining in the Feast of the Father, joining in community, caring for others, that we find our purpose in life.

It is in community that we can carry out our mission as followers of Christ. If we look back at our 85 years of parish history, we began as a mission to the children of north Sarnia, who needed a Sunday school.

That mission turned into a parish church, which became a hub of the community right into the 50’s and 60’s.

How do we meet the challenge of doing mission in a very different context?

That is something we have to address as individuals, as parishes, as deaneries, as Dioceses and as a national Anglican Church, part of a worldwide communion.

It isn’t a time for blame—-looking for who is responsible, or what did we do wrong.

It is a time when we need to pray for the wisdom and courage to discern what we might do as followers of Christ to carry on this mission—preach the good news, to care for each other, to care for those in need, to seek peace and justice.

We aren’t hear just to survive, as the older brother did in the parable of the prodigal son. We are here to join in the feast of the Father.

The next few months will be a time of discernment for us as a parish. We will look at new models of ministry, including shared priestly ministry, or collaboration with other parishes in Sarnia.

No solutions will be imposed on the parish, however the financial realities of parish life in the 21st century, with diminished offerings from fewer people, and the cost of maintaining buildings and staff mean the decisions have to be made to live within our means.

This is not an easy process. I’ve been through it before both as a lay person, and as a priest.

So let us conclude with a prayer for the parish from the prayer book.

ALMIGHTY and everlasting God, who dost
govern all things in heaven and earth:
Mercifully hear our prayers, and grant to this
Parish all things needful for its spiritual welfare
Strengthen and confirm the faithful;
protect and guide the children; visit and relieve
the sick; turn and soften the wicked; arouse the
careless; recover the fallen; restore the penitent.
Remove all hindrances to the advancement of
thy truth; and bring us all to be of one heart and
mind within the fold of thy holy Church, to the
honour and glory of thy blessed Name; through
Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen

The True Elder Brother

2011-11-14T03:48:00.000-08:00

Preached at St. John the Baptist, Walpole Island, Ontario, and St. Stephen's, Courtright, Ontario on November 13 as part of a pulpit exchange with Rev'd Paul Woolley

Like you, in Sarnia at Canon Davis, we’ve been following this alternative lectionary, which began with the Parable of the Prodigal Son and has continued to explore related themes.

The purpose of the Purpose of the Prodigal God study is to shift the focus of our Diocese and its parishes to a more outward looking mission and ministry.

Now you may wonder what that has to do with the parable of the prodigal son. The reason the parable was chosen is that neither the younger brother or the older brother has followed the right path, but both have been cared for, forgiven and treated with generosity and respect by the father in the parable---who we identify with God in this many layered parable.

In the parable the elder brother refuses to go into the feast to welcome his younger brother back. He refuses even though his father comes out to ask him to come in.

Many of us can probably sympathize with the older brother. We’ve done the best we can. We’ve followed the rules. We’ve honoured our family obligations.

Yet we see younger brothers welcomed back after making a mess of things, whether they deserve it or not—at least in our view.

That is exactly what our Gospel reading today is about. Jesus is not telling us that we have to hate our families. He’s teaching us that we have to first love God, our creator and redeemer, and then love for our fellow human beings will follow.

To be followers of Christ we have to do more than the elder brother did. We have to forgive others, as we have been forgiven, but we also have to go the extra mile.

For the elder brother that would have meant not being content with having the younger brother go and squander the family inheritance, but actually taking the initiative, like the shepherd with the lost sheep, and going out to find his brother and bring him home.

This outward focus is what built our churches. We set up Christian communities, built buildings and developed mission which included word, sacrament, education for people of all ages, and outreach—care for those less fortunate.

The problem is that in many congregations we are just trying to survive, keep the doors open, serve our own members, and our focus, as a result, has turned inward. We have lost that mission impulse which brought about our existence.

It isn’t too late to change. We still have many dedicated parishioners. We have the richness of our Anglican tradition, our worship, our music.

And above all we have our true elder brother, Jesus, who
gave his life for us.

This Remembrance day weekend we are
conscious of the sacrifices made for all of us by a whole generation
during the second world war, and of the sacrifices made during
wars before that, and since.

That willingness to sacrifice, at great cost, even the cost of
life itself, is what Jesus shows us by example.

We all won’t be called to sacrifice our lives. But we are
called to be followers of Christ as a cost---the cost being putting
others ahead of ourselves, doing what is right, rather than
worshipping the God of money.

Jesus teaches us that everything he has to give is ours—
blessing, foregiveness, love, community, peace, joy and ultimately
salvation.

To follow Jesus, however, means being willing to look
outward; to meet the needs of those who are marginalized as Jesus
did.

It is in serving others that we serve God. Our ongoing task
as followers of Christ is figuring out how to do that, as individuals
and as communities of faith.

There are no easy answers. Where we are is not an easy
place to be in. We need to remember that our Christian faith is not
a destination, but a journey. And we don’t know where it will take
us in the coming years.

But we can’t do it alone. We are part of the larger body of
Christ and we believe in a loving God, who cares for us so much
he sent his son to come among us in human form, and blesses us
with the enlivening breath of the Holy Spirit.

What about the elder brother?

2011-11-07T09:12:00.000-08:00

Homily Remembrance Sunday Prodigal God Series #4

When I was first thinking about The Prodigal God series of sermons, all revolving around the parable of the Prodigal Son and related readings, I wondered how it would work with special Sundays, like last Sunday, All Saints, and this Sunday, Remembrance Sunday.

I needn’t have worried because the challenges raised by the parable are so universal, that they address many aspects of our lives as Christians.

Take our Remembrance Sunday this morning. As I talked to John Summerfield this week, he recalled an incident difficult for him to even speak about until only a few years ago.

A comrade, who he bunked with, and worked on bomber crew with got hit with shrapnel during a bombing run, and died in John’s arms as he tried to revive him.

John went on to many more successful bombing runs. However it is that loss of a comrade that haunts him, and brings tears to his eyes still.

War is unspeakably horrible, because of the loss of life, the loss of comrades.

War is above all, if it is a just war like World War 2, a sacrifice for one’s fellow countrymen, for freedom.

War is about sacrifice; the willingness to sacrifice for the sake of others.

Sacrifice is the link with both today’s Gospel passage from Luke about the rich ruler and his encounter with Jesus about what is required of him for salvation, and the parable of the Prodigal Son.

Luke’s account is challenging for us, even today. The ruler asks what he must do to inherit eternal life. Jesus asks him if he has followed the Hebrew law, the Torah. He answers he has done that since he was a boy.

Then Jesus asks him to sell all that he owns and give it to the poor, then come and follow Jesus.

Needless to say the ruler was sad, since he was certainly not prepared to give up his possessions, as the disciples had when they left everything behind to follow Jesus.

This passage, if interpreted literally would certainly cause difficulties for all of us who are living well in an affluent society.

Jesus goes on to say it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.

We have to remember Jesus was using hyperbole, or exaggeration to make his point. That method of teaching was certainly part of his Jewish heritage.

What he really wanted to underline is that our wealth can not be allowed to become God, replacing God our Father, our creator, as the God we worship.

As we look around our world today we see the fruits of making wealth a God. Many people have never had it so good, accumulating unimagined wealth, and living extravagantly while countless others are starving and homeless.

If we follow Christ we have to not only see this as wrong, but see the link between the two.

The greedy CEO’s and investment bankers who created the mess which led to the economic crisis of 2008 that still lingers today are worshipping the God of wealth. Anything goes, including profits made purely on speculation, not creating goods and services people use.

What we need is the same spirit of sacrifice that we saw in the two world wars. The spirit of sacrifice, although we paid a price in terms of loss of life, led to the peace and prosperity that followed World War 2.

What would a spirit of sacrifice look like in 2011. For a start, maybe all the CEOs could reduce their compensation packages to less than a million dollars. We could change the taxation system so the burden could fall on those who can afford to pay, rather than the stretched and shrinking middle class.

We could ask for sacrifice for the good of many. But that would run counter to the current prevailing attitude that says greed is good, and if one can accumulate extravagant wealth at the expense of other’s that is just survival of the fittest, free enterprise.

In Dicken’s Christmas Carol, Scrooge is asked to give to the poor and asks the unfortunate canvassers: “are there not prisons, are there not workhouses?” Perhaps what is needed is to “decrease the surplus population” by allowing the poor to starve.

In a sense Scrooge is just like the Ruler who confronts Jesus. He may have followed all the rules of society. But when asked to sacrifice for others, he has no heart for it. He wants to hoard his riches, and not share it with his employee, Bob Cratchett and his crippled son, Tiny Tim.

In the parable of the Prodigal Son, the father generously receives the younger son back after the younger son his literally squandered his part of the family inheritance, which he had the audacity to ask for before his father’s death.

That younger son broke all the rules, disappointed his father, and wasted his opportunity.

We don’t aften spend too much time looking at the lder brother in the parable. He’s only there at the end, bitter over his brother’s return, and jealous that the father killed the fatted calf and held a party to celebrate.

The elder brother, like the ruler who asked Jesus about salvation, didn’t do anything wrong.

He followed all the rules. He worked hard for his father. But he hadn’t learned from his father to have a spirit of generosity, of love, of sacrifice, of putting relationship above wealth.

Instead he was focused on himself, and what he deserved for his hard work.

What did the elder brother show in his reaction to his brother’s return:

*deep anger over what he perceived was unfair treatment.

*a sense of persecution—he had slaved for his father all these years, but a fatted calf had never been slain for him.

*no love or care about his younger brother. No rejoicing that he had come to himself.

*a sense of entitlement. Since I have been faithful to my father all these years, don’t I deserve better than for him to celebrate my younger brother’s return. What about me?

*a lack of foregiveness, and a judgmental attitude.

As we look at the elder brother for the purposes of this series, we have to consider that there are aspects of the elder brother, and the younger brother in all of us, and we need to be conscious of this as we move forward in our lives as followers of Christ.

Both brothers fell short. But at least the younger brother recognized his spiritual failings.

Perhaps the danger of the older brother’s attitude is that it allows for a kind of moralistic spirituality which treats faith as primarily a matter of following the law, and doing what is expected.

However obedience to the law is only part of the path to salvation.

The other part is loving God, and loving our neighbour, and developing the spirit of sacrifice which can lead to peace, joy, love and community.

Being self-righteous, like the elder brother, leads to a spiritual malaise.

Instead we are called to humility, to forgiveness, to always looking for the grace of God,rather than seeking salvation through our own merit.

Of Saints and Discipleship

2011-10-30T15:41:00.000-07:00

All Saints, Oct. 30 2011, Prodigal God Series Part 3,
Mark 10:35-45

What’s a saint? A dictionary definition would be a person who is officially recognized by the church through a process called canonization, as pre-eminent in holiness.

But there is a larger group of saints referred to in Paul’s letters. That group includes faithful Christians, followers of the way of Christ throughout the ages, and that is who we are called to remember today.

Even those officially recognized as saints by the church are flesh and blood human beings. They have special gifts from God, which have enabled them to perform remarkable service to their fellow human beings in God’s name.

But they are also prone to human failings, just like you and I. In 1982 I met Mother Teresa when she visited a small town in northern Alberta. I was one of a few journalists on the scene and we had a chance to ask a few questions and meet this Nobel prize winning nun who is now going through the process to become a Saint in the Roman Catholic Church.

I was impressed by her down to earth manner, her serenity, her smile.

Recently years after her death a translation of her writings found that for years while she was helping people, she was experiencing inner desolation, a feeling of separation from God. But she persevered.

In today’s Gospel reading two of Jesus disciples, James and John, the sons of Zebedee, ask Jesus to do whatever they ask of him. What they want is to sit at his right hand and at his left in the kingdom, in paradise.

Think back to the parable of the Prodigal Son—that’s what the younger son was asking of his father---to do the unthinkable, that is to sell the land that is his estate ahead of time, so he can give it to the younger son.

Both requests are completely unreasonable and selfish.

Jesus responds, as he often does with a question to James and John. Are you able to drink the cup I drink, and be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with?

By this he means being willing to be baptized with death on the cross. This passage follows one of Jesus predictions of his death in Mark’s gospel.

The two disciples don’t understand. They say they are able. Jesus responds they will be asked to sacrifice their lives, in his name, but not yet. And places at his left and right hand, are not his to give.

The request of James and John causes disunity among the twelve disciples. They are angry at the two for requesting special privileges.

But Jesus uses this opportunity to teach about the nature of discipleship. What he calls for is servant leadership, not the kind of authoritarian, tyranny they are accustomed to in first century Israel. “Whoever is great among you must first be your servant.”

This ties in to the lives of many of the saints who have been recognized by the church. Mother Teresa served the poor of Calcutta with her sisters. Saint Francis of Assisi rejected the wealth of his family, and began the Franciscan order which has served those in need for centuries.

Jesus himself defied the conventional expectations of the “Son of Man,” the term for Messiah, not only because he came to serve others, but because he came to give his life as a ransom for many.

Let’s go back to the two disciples James and John. Like the two sons in the Prodigal Son, they have lost their way. They don’t really understand what God’s grace means. They don’t understand what loving God means.

James and John want to be at Jesus’ side in glory, but they don’t understand either the cost of that request, or what it would mean for them, or for the other disciples.

In Mark’s gospel in particular, the disciples are often depicted as slow to catch on to Jesus’ teaching, and this is just one of many examples.

It must have been difficult for these ordinary, uneducated men to grasp the teaching of a leader who literally turned the teaching of the world, and even the Hebrew faith upside down.

Yet in the three years the disciples were with Jesus, they were given the strength to go through hardship and persecution after his death, and lay the foundations for the building of the Church.

And after three centuries of the early church as an underground movement, came the radical transformation which saw Roman temples transformed into Christian Churches, such as the Pantheon in Rome.

Those disciples learned servant leadership. The saints through the ages learned servant leadership.

And servant leadership is the key to renewal of the church today. We need to find ways to recapture that spirit of serving others. Our parish starting with the goal of offering a Sunday school mission to the children of north Sarnia.

So we began as a mission, as an outreach. In those early days, the church was a centre of community life. There were plays, a football team which won the city championship, and records showed as many as 600 people attended services many Sundays.

Of course that was a different time. Sarnia was different. Life was different. In our current life as a parish we need to discern our mission, how we can serve God, and serve our community. Let us pray.

GOD the Holy Ghost, Sanctifier of the
faithful: Sanctify this parish by thine abiding
presence. Bless those who minister in holy things.
Enlighten the minds of thy people more and more
with the light of the everlasting Gospel. Bring
erring souls to the knowledge of God our Saviour;
and those who are walking in the way of life,
keep stedfast unto the end. Give patience to the
sick and afflicted, and renew them in body
and soul. Guard from forgetfulness of thee those
who are strong and prosperous. Increase in us
thy manifold gifts of grace, and make us all to be
fruitful in good works; O blessed Spirit, whom
with the Father and the Son together we worship
and glorify, one God, world without end. Amen

The Scandal of the Teaching of Jesus

2011-10-27T12:20:00.000-07:00

Homily Sunday October 23 Prodigal God Alternative Lectionary part 2

One of the challenging threads of the Gospels is echoed in today’s reading from Luke. Jesus, our Lord and Saviour, seems to attract the wrong kind of people.

Instead of devout religious folks, observant Jews, Pharisees, and leaders in the society, his followers, as Luke puts it, are “tax collectors” and “sinners.” These weren’t respectable people in a society built on honour and shame.

Jesus appealed to moral outcasts, and that very fact scandalized the Pharisees.

And perhaps even more difficult for the good Jewish people Jesus was scandalizing, was that he told parables like the two short ones offered today, which are both situated before the parable of the Prodigal Son.

First we have the shepherd who will not leave the wilderness with his 99 sheep until the one lost sheep is found. Then he will leave and have a celebration. So Jesus says there will be more rejoicing over one repentant sinner, than over 99 who have no need of repentance.

Then this is reinforced by the story of the woman who won’t cease the search for her lost drachma, then rejoices when it is found, leaving Jesus to conclude there is “more rejoicing among the angels of God over one repentant sinner.”

This teaching of God’s grace is hard for us to understand.

The Pharisees and other religious leaders complained Jesus not only attracted tax collectors and sinners, he ate with them. Table fellowship was highly valued in the first century culture, and Jesus was showing acceptance and respect for those who were rejected and outcast.

Now you may be wondering what all this has to do with our “Prodigal God” theme which began last week with Bishop Terry preaching on the parable of the Prodigal Son.

What Jesus is trying to do is challenge the assumptions of the religious leaders, and all his listeners about God’s grace, sin, and salvation.

In both short parables, the lost sheep, and the lost coin, are both incapable of being found, except through God’s grace. They represent people who are spiritually lost, like the prodigal son. The sheep is lost through helplessness, the coin through thoughtlessness, and the son through wilfulness.

Sin is difficult for us to deal with. We all sin to varying degrees, part of our human nature. But in Jesus we find forgiveness through repentance and faith.

Salvation also enters into our parables, because if we think we have found God, and are sure in our faith, then one of the pitfalls we face is that we are tempted to look down on others who haven’t found God.

Jesus teaches that salvation doesn’t come to those who search hardest for God, but instead through God’s grace, not through our own merit.

That is a difficult concept for us. The joy is in finding those who are lost, those who are marginalized, those who are excluded.

Archbishop of Canterbury William Temple said the church is the only institution that exists for the benefit of those who are not members.

In the parables the Pharisees don’t see themselves as lost sinners saved by God’s grace. Indeed they feel superior to sinners. But Jesus teaches heaven rejoices when sinners repent.

Now to most people today Christianity represents both religion and moralism. But in the early church, and in Jesus teaching that was certainly not the case.

After all in the early church in the first three centuries there were almost no church buildings, no full-time clergy, no sacrifices, no Temples or Cathedrals.

Instead early Christianity was “The Way,” a way of sharing table fellowship and the sacraments in the homes of believers or the Catacombs of Rome; A Way of following Jesus who was himself the ultimate sacrifice.

Indeed religious people were offended by Jesus. It was outsiders, the underclass who formed the backbone of the early church. Jesus attracted the irreligious, and offended the believers of Hebrew scripture—the only Bible in his day.

Today the problem particularly in the west is that churches are not appealing to sinners and outcasts, or to younger brothers described in the Parable of the Prodigal Son.

We are challenged as we undertake this Diocesan study to consider that while we mean well, we are too often like the older brother---we have worked hard, we have kept the faith, we have supported the church, and we like things the way they are.

Don’t we have enough on our plate without looking for new models of mission and ministry?

There are no easy answers. But all over North America and Europe many parishes and churches of all denominations are facing the same issues. It’s ironic that the areas where the church is fastest growing are those where the western churches did mission in the 20th century, in Latin America, Africa and Asia. We have a lot of financial resources, but lack in membership. They have few resources, but are growing quickly.

Let us close with a prayer from a Celtic resource Book.

“Grant us a vision, Lord,
To see what we can achieve
To reach out beyond ourselves
To share our lives with others
To stretch our capabilities
To increase our sense of purpose
To be aware of where we can help
To be sensitive to your presence
To give heed to your constant call,
In the name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
Amen”

Giving thanks and thinking about truth and justice

2011-10-09T17:50:00.000-07:00

Homily Oct 9, Pentecost 17, Yr. A

This Thanksgiving weekend as we gather with our families, we realize that we have a lot to be thankful for. So many things our pioneer ancestors never dreamed of are within reach of most Canadians.

Materially, we are blessed, but the challenge remains to live out our calling as followers of Christ, amidst an increasingly secular, and non-Christian society.

Paul’s letter to the Philippians is one place to start if you are looking for teaching on the Christian life. The passage we heard this morning is surely one of the most inspirational in Paul’s letters.

“Rejoice in the Lord always, again I say rejoice,” Paul writes.

So as we live out our faith we are to do so, not in attitude of grumbling or reluctance, but in joy and enthusiasm
.
There is a great need to look on the positive side of life, to see possibilities not obstacles. To see opportunities, not lost causes.

This applies in our lives in the communities we live in, where we work and in the church.

You’ll notice Paul names two of his co-workers Eudoia and Syntyche to be of the same mind in the Lord. That means these two women who have struggled beside Paul, must have either disagreed with other, or perhaps even with Paul. But Paul is urging them to work out their differences---literally in the Greek exercising their minds.

So what Paul is urging is not conformity but learning to solve problems while being faithful to God.

This is a help in our own life together as church. We can’t possibily agree on everything. But as followers of Christ we can learn to work things out and move ahead for the benefit of the whole body Christ, the whole community.

Paul tells us that the peace of God, which surpasses all human understanding, will help keep our minds and hearts in Christ Jesus.

So our faith can help bring about that peace and unity Jesus calls us to, provided we trust in God.

The next promise is one I’ve personally found immense comfort in. Paul says whatever is true, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”

Paul is inviting us to look at the world in a whole different way, a positive life affirming way.

The trouble is if we complain, if we get angry, if we get caught up in blaming others, or always criticizing, or never being satisfied, then it poisons our whole approach to life.

Spiritually, Paul’s advice, offers us a way forward. While acknowledging the evil of the world, the Philippians are being urged to focus on the highest aspirations which humanity has: the search for truth, beauty, justice, excellence, and peace.

In that search we move forward with thanksgiving, rejoicing in the gifts that God has given us, in the things that give meaning to our lives amidst a hurting world.

Paul concludes by urging the Phillippians to keep on doing what they have been doing—to persist in what they have learned as followers of Christ.

God will be with them, and give them peace, as God offers us peace.

The message Paul had for the Philippian Christians is timeless. Indeed it seems even more needed today, as the world struggles with such huge and seemingly insoluble problems.

Instead of being overwhelmed with the difficulty of facing global economic difficulties we can’t do anything about, we need to be thankful for the gifts we have been given, and think about whatever is true, just, pleasing, commendable, praiseworthy.

From Paul, I’d to talk briefly about the Prodigal God, a Diocesan wide study program which begins next week.

We are lucky to have Bishop Dance, who is one of the finest preachers I’ve ever heard, launch a special six week set of readings starting with one of the most popular parables in the Bible, the Prodigal Son.

The study is based on a book called the Prodigal God, by Timothy Keller. As well as the six week lectionary and sermons based on it, there will be a weekly study six weeks on the Prodigal God starting Thursday Nov 3 at 10am in the Canterbury Room. Copies are for sale after church for $9.00.

There will also be a one day condensed study for those who can’t attend a weekly study Saturday Nov. 12 from 9:30 am to 2pm including lunch.

You may ask why a Diocesan wide study. The idea came from the Diocesan strategic planning process, which hopes there will be an opportunity to start looking outward as we consider the mission and ministry of the church.

Its meant to start a conversation, and I hope some of you will be able to join in.

The Prodigal God reference is to the fact that the father in the parable, who is so generous with both his sons, is extravagant in his generosity, as God is to us.

How do we respond to God’s generosity. How do we reach out to the community? How do we regain our outward focus?

These are all questions we will look at through the lens of the parable of the Prodigal Son.

A Love Affair with Evensong

2011-10-04T16:26:00.000-07:00

Evensong Reflection

Having preached this morning on the ten commandments from Exodus, I think this wonderful service of evensong deserves more of a reflection and less teaching and sermonizing.

My thoughts seemed to coalesce around this service of Evensong, and what it has meant to me and countless more Anglicans over almost five centuries since Thomas Cranmer put together the Book of Common Prayer.

I think it is safe to say evensong has resisted any attempt at rewriting as part of the modern liturgical movement. Unlike the communion and morning prayer services, where it is offered, it continues to offer the traditional language of the Book of Common Prayer, with its power, its poetry and its majesty.

I can’t claim to have much acquaintance with evensong as a youth, although I heard about it from my Dad who always went to church twice on Sunday—for morning mass and then evensong. My grandmother sang in the choir at St. Mary Magdalene’s Church, Toronto, with the great Healey Willan.

When I was in the West Indies for the summer as a youth exchange group member in something called the Anglican Overseas work tour I had my first acquaintance with evensong, as it was a regular part of our Sunday worship on the island of Nevis.

Then at Trinity College,Toronto, when I did my undergraduate work, and at parishes in Calgary and Edmonton, I was an occasional attender.

But what really made me appreciate the beauty and power of this service was the chance to hear choirs like this one sing Evensong almost every night in a different cathedral on a trip to England.

Sadly Evensong is no longer a part of regular worship in many churches. Despite its liturgical strength, and the beauty of the music written for the service by countless composers, and the wonderful evening hymns, evensong has been a casualty of modernity in the church—save for choirs like St. Paul’s which keep it alive on occasions like this.

My love affair with evensong was capped while I was in seminary by the opportunity to sing with a talented group of students less than half my age in the Trinity College Chapel Choir. So every Wednesday in term I was able to sing arrangements of the Nunc Dimmitis, Magnificat, and Preces, along with a new anthem. We rehearsed twice a week. So it was demanding.

As an act of praise and worship Evensong can be sublime at its best. We offer our voices, our prayers to God to give thanks for all our blessings.

Let us give thanks for this treasure of our Anglican worship life, and especially to those like the choir of St. Paul’s which help to keep the flame of Evensong alive.

Thanks Be To God

2011-09-25T03:56:00.000-07:00

Homily Harvest Thanksgiving 2011

“You crown the earth with your goodness, O Lord.” So writes the psalmist.

As we mark both Harvest Thanksgiving and Back to Church Sunday, perhaps the link between welcoming people to our Christian fellowship, and the traditional Harvest Festival is the idea of people coming together to give thanks to God for everything He has provided for us.

Perhaps as we have grown in material well-being as a society, we have lost our sense of thankfulness, our sense of gratitude in the never ending quest for more wealth, and technological advances.

The idea of Back to Church Sunday started in England when Anglicans in Manchester realized they were dwindling in numbers, and had lost their focus on welcoming new members to their parishes.

Now the idea has spread throughout the world, and many denominations.

We need to come together to give thanks, at the Harvest, and indeed every Sunday because it is too easy to accept God’s gifts, without properly giving thanks, and having an attitude of gratitude.

In our Gospel reading the one leper who came back whole had not only been healed of his disfiguring disease, but had understood the importance of giving thanks to Jesus, the agent of his healing.

The other nine may have been physically healed, but their lack of response to Jesus showed that they were still not whole persons.

This story would have had quite an impact on Christians, since most still saw themselves as Jews. The reason: the one who returned to say thanks was a Samaritan. And he alone received Jesus’ blessing.

Samaritans and Jews were bitter enemies. They would have no dealings with each other. Yet Jesus pronounced the Samaritan as the one of the ten healed who was truly whole, and blessed him.

This was no coincidence. Jesus wanted the Jews to understand the salvation of God, the gifts of God are for all people.

The other lepers who were healed followed the Jewish law in going immediately to show themselves to the priest, as Jesus advised them.

But for Jesus, thankfulness is an integral part of real healing, real wholeness.

Lepers were outcasts in first century Galilee. If a leper was on the windward side of a healthy person, he was told stand at least 50 yards away.

Jesus is depicted throughout the Gospels as showing only love for Lepers, not fear or contempt. They were often the focus of his healing ministry.

Unlike some of the healing stories, Jesus does not touch the ten lepers, Luke reports they are healed “as they went.”

Not only is the Samaritan leper thankful, he takes action by turning back, glorifying God, and falling on his face giving thanks.

This humility; this attitude of thankfulness, is something we need more of as Christians today.

Rather than worrying about what’s wrong with our lives, we need to give thanks for our many blessings.

That is a challenge for all of us. We get so caught up in the details of our lives that we don’t take the time to give thanks to God, or members of our families or our friends.

An attitude of gratitude helps in every aspect of our lives. Sometimes we don’t realize how much expressing thanks really means.

Gratitude to God is part of living out our faith. It’s easy to fall into being a foxhole Christian—only coming to God when things are at their worst.

God is the source of our being. Without the fruits of the harvest we could not survive.

So we need to give thanks, and often, during good times and bad, for all the gifts God has given us.

To do so should come as naturally as breathing. Somehow in our materialistic culture, this attitude of thankfulness has been replaced either the endless drive to acquire more, at the expense of others, or a denial of God’s role in creation, and God’s intention for us to live in peace and justice, loving God and loving our neighbour as ourselves.

To conclude with another psalm verse: “O come let us sing unto the Lord, let us heartily rejoice in the strength of our salvation. Let us come before his presence with thanksgiving.”

It's Just Not Fair

2011-09-18T14:34:00.000-07:00

Homily Proper 25 Yr. B 2011

It’s just not fair.

That’s what those workers who had sweated through the heat of the day in the vineyard thought when the time came when all the day labourers were given their wages.

This guy must be nuts. After all he hired us and we work hard all day, yet we get the same pay as these other guys who have only worked a couple of hours—barely worked up a sweat.

Where’s the fairness in that?

And by the standards of our modern economic system, the grumbling workers would be right.

But this parable told by Jesus goes far beyond a dispute about paying casual workers.

Parables, as Jesus used them, are stories drawn from everyday life, but they usually have a twist, which forces us to think. It may surprise or shock us.

In a few weeks we’ll be hearing Bishop Dance introduce the parable of the Prodigal Son, which will be the subject of a six week special study throughout the Diocese.

In that parable, the elder son, like the workers have toiled all day in today’s parable, says “It’s just not fair” when he learns his father has welcomed his younger son back, after the younger son has squandered his share of the inheritance.

The elder brother has laboured long and hard for his father, yet this younger brother who has wasted his father’s inheritance, is welcomed back with a party.

In both cases, Jesus is challenging us, because we can identify with both the workers who have sweated all day, only to get the same pay as the Johnny-come-latelys, and the elder brother who has been loyal to his father, while the younger brother returned home in disgrace.

But we have to get beyond “it’s just not fair” and see what Jesus is really getting at in these parables.

In today’s gospel the grumbling workers are asked: “Are you envious because I am generous?”
Think about it. They were paid exactly as promised, a day’s wage, one denarius, enough for a family to live on. They weren’t cheated or shortchanged.

What they are worried about is others getting more than they deserve.

What Jesus is getting at is that God’s generosity, God’s grace is not something we earn, it is given to us.

God gave us this planet earth with all its bounty, for those who are good, and those who are bad. Natural disasters don’t discriminate on the basis how sinful we are.

Indeed Jesus uses this parable to describe the Kingdom of heaven because he knows his followers have difficulty understanding the idea of grace, given unconditionally and without merit.

The problem we have when we hear these parables is that we resent someone else’s “enough” because they worked less for it. They were the latecomers.

But God forgives us for our resentment, our blindness, and our greed.

God forgave the people of Israel in the story from the book of Exodus today when they grumbled about their time in the wilderness. They had been rescued from captivity and tyranny in Egypt.

Instead of punishing their lack of gratitude God provided them with food—manna and meat in the desert.

When it comes down to it, today’s Gospel lays down a larger challenge for us—no matter when they were asked to come to the vineyard to work, every person deserves a living wage, as do those who work for a minimum wage today. In the kingdom of God, no one goes to bed hungry. It is only fair.

So to link this with our world today, we see too often the idea of survival of the fittest, the rich grow richer and the poor grow poorer.

Too often when cuts are made in government spending they affect most the people who are most disadvantaged.

We sometimes forget as Christians the radical generosity Jesus taught us, and instead get caught up, like the Pharisees, in a more pietistic approach to faith.

There is no easy answer to the challenge posed by this parable of the vineyard.

Jesus concludes with the enigmatic: “the first shall be last and the last shall be first.”
Reversal of fortune is a frequent theme in the Gospels. Things are not as they appear. God does not act as we expect him to act.

That’s why far from being a story about labour relations, and whether there should be hourly pay for day labourers, this Gospel opens up the larger question of God’s grace and how we respond to it as Christians.

How do we lead grace filled lives, truly loving our neighbour, truly loving God?

Celebrating the 400th Anniversary of King James Bible

2011-09-11T14:16:00.000-07:00

KJV 400th Sept. 11, 2011

"The scholars who produced this masterpiece are mostly unknown and unremembered. But they forged an enduring link, literary and religious, between the English-speaking people of the world." Winston Churchill

“A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.” “A House divided against itself cannot stand.” “A leopard can not change its spots.” “A voice crying in the wilderness.”

These expressions and many others that are part of the English language have a common origin in the King James, or authorized version of the Bible.

This year 2011, we mark four hundred years since the landmark publication of this translation of the Bible. And while the King James translation is longer used as much it was, it remains the basis for other more contemporary translations.

And when we come to the most important times of our church year, the King James translation with its literary and poetic power, tells the story most vividly.

Since this is an anniversary, it is worth going back to that time—the 16th and 17th centuries—to look at how the translation came about, and why it turned out to be such a landmark, not only in our Christian faith as English speaking people, but in our language—the way we express ourselves.

You might have thought the earliest attempts to translate the Bible into English would have been heralded as a great step forward.

But William Tyndale’s translation of the New Testament in 1526—decades before King James, was banned. Tyndale fled England to complete his New Testament.

Thanks to Guttenberg’s invention of the printing press, copies were able to make it back to England. The Bishop of London ordered all copies seized and burned.

Tyndale lived on as an outlaw, but he was finally captured an imprisoned in Brussels, then executed by strangulation and burned at the stake by the Holy Roman Emperor.

You may wonder why Bible translation was regarded as subversive. At that time the church hierarchy of Rome, led by the Pope was facing the massive upheaval of the Reformation and the growth of Protestantism.

Translating the Bible would mean people could form their own interpretations of the Bible rather than simply accepting the interpretations of the clergy.

So translators such as Tyndale were regarded as heretical, as well as being subversive.

Tyndale had this to say to a scholar he was debating: “I defy the Pope and all his laws; if God spare my life, ere many years I will cause a boy that driveth a plough shall know more scripture than thou dost.“

Tyndale may have been martyred, but his translation forms the basis for 90 per cent of the New testament King James version, including phrases such as: “Ye are the salt of the earth,” and “The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.”

The strength of Tyndale’s work came from going beyond the later Latin translations, to the original Hebrew and Greek texts. Tyndale only managed to finish 14 of 39 Old Testament books.

The next translation was by Myles Coverdale, who produced the first complete English Bible and made extensive use of Tyndale’s work in 1535. It was Coverdale’s Bible which King Henry V111 had placed in each English parish church in 1539 when he led the English church away from Rome.

That only lasted four years before Parliament declared Bible reading illegal.

But the publication of the first Book of Common Prayer in 1549 included Coverdale’s psalms and prescribed Bible readings for a whole year.

After decades more of religious ferment in 1607, 47 leading scholars of the church of England gathered at Westminster Abbey to plan the production of a more accurate translation of the Bible.

They were encouraged by King James, the first King of England and Scotland.

The work was done by six teams of translators who completed their work over three years before finalizing the text in 1610.

In 1611 King James Version of the Bible was published by the King’s Printer Robert Barker, bound for 12 shillings.

One of the goals of the King James translators was to reflect the theology of the Church of England. All the scholars were members of the Church of England, and all but one were clergy. The New Testament came from the original Greek. The Old Testament was from Hebrew text. The Apocryphal books were from Greek and Latin.

In 1662 when the Book of Common Prayer was revised , readings were added from the King James version, replacing Coverdale’s Bible translation.

Acceptance of the new King James translation was far from universal. For some time another English language European translation called the Geneva Bible was still popular.
Some scholars condemned the new version because of its rejection of word for word equivalence with the Hebrew and Greek.

By the next century, the authorized King James Version became the standard for the English speaking world, and it was until the last century the Revised Standard, then the New Revised Standard—the translation we now use, came into wide use, along with many other translations.

In many respects, the King James Version has had a tremendous impact on our faith and culture. It has contributed 257 expressions to our English language; more than Shakespeare.

The King James translation has also set the direction for other translations to follow.
It was the culmination of a critical period in the life of the church where—the Bible, which contains the stories of Creation, the Exodus, the history of the People of Israel, the life of Jesus and the birth of the Christian Church—is made accessible to ordinary people—and not just the preserve of the clergy and church establishment.

One of the challenges we face in our hectic modern lifestyle, with all its multi-media opportunities from television, radio and newspapers, to the internet and e-mail and Facebook, is taking the time to read and reflect on our sacred scriptures.

William Tyndale, Oxford and Cambridge educated, was willing to sacrifice his life to make the Bible accessible in English.

When I look at all the different Bible translations I have to make use of, I realize we are the beneficiaries of his work, and of others through these more than four centuries.

And it is fitting that Tyndale’s work is carried on by Tyndale Bible translators which is still translating the Bible into different languages as we speak.

Would You Like to Come to Church with me?

2011-09-04T13:08:00.000-07:00

Homily Sunday Sept. 4, 2011

You may have noticed our sign outside today says: “Soul Food, Served Here.” And it isn’t referring to our popular monthly suppers.

One of the best definitions I have heard of evangelism is: “one beggar telling another beggar where to find food.”

We Anglicans have not been known for our enthusiasm for evangelism. We’ve prided our selves on our excellent traditional worship— hymns, the prayer book and newer liturgies, and a rich parish life which has made the church an important part of many communities.

In the 50’s and 60’s when many new churches were built, and in times of growth before that, we just had to open a church and people flocked to come.

It was a different time—a time when a large number of Canadians attended worship frequently. When Sunday was a day of rest, and a day to worship God—not commerce or sports or entertainment.

Now while most Canadians are nominally Christian, church attendance has plunged over the past 30 years. Yet there are many more churches of different denominations, and ethnic churches to serve those who have come to Canada from other parts of the world.

In the culture Sunday is a time for busy two income families to rest, or play, or engage in sports.

It has always been a challenge to attract and retain young people. I came back to church at the age of 24 when I was asked to join the choir of All Saints Cathedral, Edmonton, with some friends. I hadn’t been a member of a parish since leaving home for university at age 18.

When I moved to Calgary I joined another choir, and was quickly invited not only to join the parish council, but take part in fundraising for an organ restoration. By the age of 30 I was serving as people’s warden. There were others in my age group.

That just isn’t happening as much anymore. Young people –or people of any age who have drifted away--aren’t coming back to the church.

It’s certainly not just Canon Davis which has experienced this. As I’ve mentioned before, in my travels I’ve found many congregations struggling with attracting younger people, youth and children, and for that matter people of any age.

The universality of these experiences of the past 40 years is why our Diocese of Huron is embracing a program this year called Back to Church Sunday, which we will celebrate Sunday Sept. 25 along with Harvest Thanksgiving.

The idea started out in England seven years ago. It is based on a simple premise, if all of us invited a friend to church, and they accepted, we can double our congregation for one Sunday.

And once people come, there is a chance they will return. Indeed in the seven years the program has run, reports indicate more than 10 percent of those who came have returned.

Now that does sound simple. But there is some preparation.

First, we need to think of people to invite. They don’t have to be Anglicans. Just people who are not regular church attenders who might consider coming.

Next week we will provide invitation cards.

Now I’ll have to admit that like most Anglicans I haven’t been accustomed to inviting people to church. Perhaps that’s why this is a good idea.

Studies have proven that new church members come not through ads in the newspaper, or signs outside, though have to do those things, but personal invitation.

Think of who invited you to church for the first time as an adult. For me it was my first boss Ted, a hard-nosed magazine editor who sang in the choir at All Saints Cathedral.

Think of who God might be calling you to approach? A close friend? A member of a club you are in? A neighbour? A fellow golfer or gardener?

Then comes the hard part. Could you could say it out loud with me: “Would you like to come to church with me?”

There, that wasn’t so difficult.

We do have to pray for courage, not only to make the invitation, but to those we invite.

Provided the invitation is accepted your work isn’t over. One of the most difficult things for many of us is going into an unfamiliar environment.

So the Back to Church movement suggests you pick up your guest and bring them to church with you for the first time.

Then after the service invite them to join us in our Harvest Thanksgiving brunch.

Then follow up the first invitation by asking them to return the next Sunday. And give them a copy of our fall newsletter with special activities coming up.

Many of us were thrilled by having almost 150 people come for our 85th anniversary---including many who came from other parishes, and other former parishioners.

We hope, with God’s help, to swell our numbers again. If there is one thing which sums up this whole effort it is: Invite someone you know to something you love.”

It is appropriate that we are doing this at the same time as Harvest Thanksgiving. We are thankful not only for nature’s bounty, but for 85 years of mission and ministry in this place.

We recall our roots as a Sunday school mission in North Sarnia. And we pray for our Christian witness and community in 2011 and in the years to come.

Celebrating Servant Leadership

2011-08-28T13:09:00.000-07:00

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

Who Do You Say That I Am?

2011-08-22T15:52:00.000-07:00

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?”

Encountering the "other"

2011-08-15T07:06:00.000-07:00

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.

From Fear to Hope

2011-08-07T13:16:00.000-07:00

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.

Should Food Banks exist?

2011-08-06T05:37:00.000-07:00

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.

A Prodigal Sower

2011-07-11T05:21:00.000-07:00

Homily Pentecost 4A Parable of the Sower

Having served several rural congregations, I’ve learned a little about agriculture, and about the spirit and dedication of farmers in western Canada who still labour on the family farm and have survived, drought, flooding, poor commodity prices and high interest rates…to name only a few of the obstacles.

Farmers have had to become very resourceful to keep going, prudent in their decisions on how much land to seed, how much fertilizer to use, how much to spend on equipment. It’s a tough business.

And it was a tough business in the first century when Jesus taught this parable of the Sower.

What is so remarkable about the brief parable told in Matthew is that the Sower Jesus talks about doesn’t show any of that cautious, careful behaviour we’d expect from a farmer—then or now.

The sower distributes his seeds on the path, among the rocks, in the thorns, and in the good soil.

Since seeds were a very valuable commodity at that time, and most farmers worked for larger landowners in a tenancy system, it’s odd behaviour to say the least for the Sower to waste any seeds where they are unlikely to grow.

The thing about parables is that Jesus used them, to make us think. In this case Matthew also provides an interpretation of the parable a few verses later which is included in our Gospel reading this morning.

However before we accept that this as the only interpretation of the parable, we have to consider the possibility this was a later addition to the original text by an editor who wanted to have Jesus more fully explain the parable, rather than leaving it to the hearer or reader to figure it out.

My feeling is we are meant to struggle with parables, because they usually have some sort of twist, like the extravagant use of seeds by the Sower.

Then the task for us is to interpret what Jesus means, and what it might mean for us in our lives.

I think we could call this parable the “Prodigal” or extravagant Sower. The Sower could be seen as God, dispensing grace extravagantly—often on rocky ground, or where it will not take hold, but offering grace anyway in hopes the seed will take root in our hearts.

Or else we ourselves could be the Sower, passing on God’s grace, God’s love to others, whether it is returned or not, whether it takes root or not.

The return of the seeds which were sown on good soil by the Sower was 30, 60, 100 fold.

This kind of return would have been unheard of, even in a bumper crop, then or now for that matter despite all our high-tech agricultural processes to improve yield—the so called green revolution.

So what Jesus is teaching us is that God’s grace, when we receive it, or when we pass it on, can result in an unimaginable yield, beyond our wildest expectations.

And this parable can be seen as a way to explain God’s grace, rather than talking about belief.

That isn’t to say the interpretive section on the parable isn’t useful teaching as well.

One thing which strikes me is the description of what happens when the seed falls among thorns. The cares of the world and the lure of wealth choke the word, and it yields nothing.

This speaks to the spiritual crisis in more affluent societies—where the church is declining. We have lost our spiritual compass thanks to a materialism that puts wealth and entertainment above faith, compassion and service.

I’m not saying faith, compassion and service are not present in our society, but they seem to have been eclipsed by a hectic and often disconnected lifestyle which grows ever more complex,but lacking purpose.

Church life and community life have suffered as families and friends are scattered. We have great mobility. But the chances of putting roots down, as many of you have here in Sarnia, are less than they have every been.

So we have to recognize the thorns in our society which choke our faith. We need to also recognize the many manifestations of God’s grace in our lives, and try to share God’s grace with others, freely, extravagantly.

Perhaps the most encouraging message from this teaching of Jesus is that God’s grace is available to all of us if we seek it, wherever we are. Perhaps we have to overcome thorns to recognize it. Or go through some rocky times.

But we have the assurance that it is there. Thanks be to God.

Many Blessings for Canada

2011-07-05T05:33:00.000-07:00

Homily Canada Day Weekend 2011

With all the attention Will and Kate are attracting with their visit this week, we are reminded of the far reaching impact, and awareness of the British Monarchy, even in the 21st century, when its power is purely symbolic.

Symbols are important. And some of the attention to the Royals can rub off even on Anglican clerics. Of course many of us can recall where we were in 1981 when Prince Charles married Diana Spencer. It was THE Royal Wedding of the century—with hundreds of millions of people watching all over the world.

The Archbishop of Canterbury, then Robert Runcie, officiated. When Runcie came to Canada to visit I recall him telling the story at St. James Cathedral in Toronto about a visit to a remote part of China after the wedding, where he was greeted like a rock star. The faces of the people lit up.

How he wondered could Chinese peasants recognize the Archbishop of Canterbury. The answer came from the people themselves, smiling at him saying “Royal Wedding, Royal Wedding.”

So symbols are important, and so is our national holiday, which has a special set of lectionary readings which I am using this Sunday.

Canada is a remarkable nation, peaceful throughout its history apart from a few skirmishes, and involvement in foreign wars in support of freedom and democracy.

When the prophet Isaiah speaks of Kings reigning in righteousness and princes with justice he was setting out the ideals which we should live by in our communities and nations.

God wants us to live in peace, in secure dwellings in quiet resting places, as prophet wrote.

What is so remarkable about Canada is that people from so many lands have come to live in our vast country, which is so rich in beauty and resources. My grandparents on my father’s side came from England in 1912 with nothing. My grandfather worked as a sleeping car conductor on the CPR.

Dad was the first in the family to go to university, but only after he earned the Veteran’s grant of either land or free tuition after serving in the army as a pay sergeant during world war two.

He became a teacher, and would have been proud to see his granddaughter graduate from University to Toronto with a Bachelor of Education last month.

So Canada has been a land of opportunity for my family and for many families. It hasn’t been easy. Some of you have vivid memories of the great depression in the 30’s.

But peace, compromise and community life have characterized our growth as a nation. We don’t have the same extreme of wealth and poverty as our neighbours to the south. Nor do we have the nastiness of the current political climate in the US.

We do have different values, more communal values.

That’s where Paul’s letter to the Colossians speaks to us—we are called as Christians to clothe ourselves with compassion, kindness, meekness and patience.

Canadians are sometime mocked when we demonstrate these values.

And above all we need to act out of love, and to be thankful for the gifts God has given us, as a nation, as provinces, as communities, as families, as individuals.

And Paul notes, we need to be forgiving, as we have been forgiven.

That’s hard sometimes. But the bitterness which continues in the absence of forgiveness can separate us not only from others but from God.

This passage concludes with important reminder about our worship. And it’s something we sometimes can forget. When we gather to teach, to pray, to sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs to God—we need to do so with gratitude in our hearts, giving thanks to God.

On Canada Day Pat Harrison sent me a wonderful slide show via e-mail which had stunning photographs of many different parts of Canada.

In a way its overwhelming to think of the beauty of this vast country which God created and we are fortunate enough to live in. I’ve had the privilege to travel to all ten provinces, and worship in Anglican churches in all of them.

Living in three provinces--Alberta, Manitoba and my native Ontario--has given me an understanding of the diversity of this country---but also some of the things shared in common.

We have a lot to give thanks for. Easier travel in the past century has made people more aware not only of our own country, but the world.

We are amazed by the world’s diversity and what it has to offer, despite all its problems.

Yet when we come home to Canada, we realize how fortunate we are, blessed by our history of peace and democracy, our bountiful resources, our diverse population from many lands.
And for that we give God thanks!

The 21st Century Church; Learning from Peter and Paul

2011-06-30T14:44:00.000-07:00

Homily- St. Peter and St. Paul, June 26, 2011

Have you ever made a serious mistake in your life, but someone has given you a second chance, a chance at redemption?

That is what God did in the lives of two men who played a central role in the birth of the Christian Church; He gave them a second chance.

Paul, an educated Jew and Pharisee, made a reputation for himself as a persecutor of followers of Christ.

Yet it was Paul, who after his dramatic conversion on the Road to Damascus became the one who preached the Gospel of Christ to the Gentiles, and through missionary efforts extended the church through Turkey and Greece into the very heart of Rome.

He left us his letters to Christian communities in that region, and they have become part of our sacred scripture.

Like Paul, Peter made mistakes. Always brash and headstrong, he was one of the twelve men who followed Jesus throughout his ministry. Yet he denied Jesus three times on the eve of his death.

This denial is echoed in our Gospel reading today with Jesus three times asking Peter if he loved him. Yet Peter still became one of the early leaders of the church, and is regarded as the first Bishop of Rome, the rock on which the Church was built.

Both Peter and Paul were martyred. They gave up their lives for what they believed in, for their faith in Christ.

As we honour their memory, we look for lessons in our own lives.

One lesson is the boundless grace of God, despite our failings. We can do, as the prayer says, “more than we asked or imagined.”

In the parable of the Prodigal Son from Luke’s Gospel, one of the most familiar and loved from scripture, the Father welcomes his youngest son back with a great celebration.

This, despite the young man’s ill considered request and receipt of his inheritance, his loss of his fortune in wasteful and extravagant living, and his return home penniless and in disgrace.

The father in the story doesn’t care about all that. All he knows is his son is back, and he wants to celebrate.
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The character usually ignored in the story is the elder brother, the one who stayed with his father, didn’t claim his inheritance early, and hasn’t done anything wrong.

But he is resentful because his younger brother has been forgiven and restored to the household. The father even kills the fatted calf for the celebration, something he never did for the elder brother.

What links this parable with Peter and Paul is grace, God’s grace. A second chance. A chance for redemption.

In our life as the Anglican Church in the Diocese of Huron we are at a crossroads. It isn’t just in this parish we have memories of the 50’s and 60’s, when we were stronger and more vital communities. We are all in the same boat, although perhaps some boats are leaking more than others, to carry on that metaphor.

One of the things planned for the fall is a Diocesan wide study of a book called the “Prodigal God” by Timothy Keller, a Presbyterian minister from the United States.

In the book Keller takes a new look at the parable, shifting the emphasis from the younger son, with his wasteful or “prodigal” or extravagant spending of his portion of the inheritance.

Instead Keller sees God in the person of the Father in the story as the Prodigal, or extravagant one. God extends grace to us, no matter what mistakes we make. God yearns for our return to his fold, his household. He yearns for our repentance.

Keller also takes another look at the elder brother in the story, who he sees as being just as wrong as the younger brother—but in a different way---his resentful attitude towards both his Father and his younger brother; his refusal to take part in the feast of welcome back.

Lest we too easily agree Keller, he suggests many Christians have acted too often as elder brothers.

The point of studying a book like this is that we need to become a church with a mission and a ministry, which will address the needs of not only our members but our communities in this 21st century.

Just keeping the doors open and continuing with parish life as it has been won’t work anymore. It isn’t sustainable, either financially or spiritually.

We don’t know what the church will look like in the next 10 to 20 years, but we need to start finding out what the possibilities are.

As well as this book study, we will have Back to Church Sunday this fall. You’ll be hearing a lot more about this as we get closer to the date. The idea is simple. All of us have friends, neighbours, children, grand-children. On one particular Sunday—September 25th, we will be asked to invite them to worship with us.

Ideally, we should pick them up and bring them to worship.

In Dioceses which have already tried this, thousands of people have come out in addition to the regular parishioners, and more important about 20 percent have stayed.

Think of how it felt to be worshipping on the 85th anniversary with people of all ages and almost 150 in the church. That’s the goal for Back to Church Sunday.

Studies have shown that the best way for churches to attract new members is by personal invitation by existing members—not church ads, not signs, not brochures or posters.

As we go into this summer period of refreshment, and the blessings of nature, I would offer a prayer for the coming fall to be an important time for renewal in this parish.
I can also announce Bishop Terry Dance will be here on Sunday October 16 for his first Episcopal visit since I was appointed.

Experiencing God in three ways

2011-06-19T18:07:00.000-07:00

Homily, Trinity Sunday, June 19, 2011

Today we celebrate Trinity Sunday, the only Sunday in the church year which celebrates what is generally described as a doctrine. It’s not a Sunday about a saint, or an event in the life of Jesus.

It’s not one of those many Sundays after Pentecost. I guess when I grew up my first awareness of Trinity was that we had so many Sundays after Trinity in the old one year Prayer Book lectionary.

Now we use the Feast of Pentecost, as the beginning of this long season, so the Trinity is limited to this Sunday observance which goes back to the ninth century, and the Monks who helped the church survive the period often called the dark ages.

Our readings are vastly different, from the first of two creation stories in Genesis, to the grace in Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians, to the great commission, in which Jesus sends his disciples out to preach the Gospel to all nations, baptizing in the name of the father son and holy spirit.

If someone asked you to explain the Trinity, what would you say.

Of course this has been a great matter of debate among Bishops and theologians ever since the fourth century councils of the church.

But perhaps it isn’t important that we have a carefully articulated answer.

Instead we can see the Trinity as the way we encounter the divine—through the grace of Christ, the love of God and communion with the Holy Spirit.

One group of monks who helped us understand the Trinity were called Cappadocians. They described God in terms of three persons, in relationship to each other, inseparable, but in relationship to each other.

So instead of one God, remote and inaccessible, we have God who is creator of all, but who sent his son to be among us, and the holy spirit to care for us.

Through Jesus, who is fully human and fully divine, we have a place in the Divine life, as creatures made in the image of God.

I like this description by one writer of our faith in the Trinitarian God: “I believe in God, the creator and sustainer of all life, in Jesus Christ, in whom we see God at work for the flourishing of life; and in the spirit, who works in us so that we might live from, toward and with God.”

Seen in this light, the Trinity doesn’t have to be viewed as a difficult theological concept.

It’s simply a way to under God, which is unique to Christians. Other faiths have one God, or many Gods, but we believe in God, in Jesus, in the Holy Spirit, three persons, but one God.

And the most important thing about that is that the three persons are in relationship not only with each other,within the Godhead, but with us.

Canon Davis Turns 85

2011-06-03T05:26:00.000-07:00

From an article submitted to the Sarnia Observer for publication June 4, 2011

Kay McPhail first attended Canon Davis Memorial Church when it was founded as a Sunday school mission effort of the Ladies Guild at St. George’s Anglican Church on Vidal in 1926.

Now Mrs. McPhail, who just celebrated her 90th birthday, is one of a number of parishioners with long ties to the parish who will see the church observe its 85th anniversary tomorrow.

The church, located at Russell and Maxwell Street, will hold a special anniversary service, with a guest preacher who grew up in the parish, the Rev’d Scott Forbes, who now works for International Justice Mission, an organization working to help children at risk in third world countries.

The 11am worship, which includes communion, will also include a light luncheon afterwards, cake, balloons and historical exhibits. The parish will welcome the new Anglican Archdeacon for Lambton-Kent, the Venerable Paul Millward, who will attend after his own parish worship at Christ Church, Chatham.

From its humble beginnings meeting as a Sunday school for children in what was then north Sarnia in homes and for a little while in London School, Canon Davis Memorial was set up as a parish, using the old Anglican Church from Oil Springs, moved to the current site.

It was named Canon Davis Memorial to honour the Reverend Canon Thomas Robert Davis, who was rector of St. George’s, Sarnia from 1882-1922. Canon Davis emigrated from Ireland as a boy, and spent most of his ministry in Sarnia.

While Anglican churches are usually named for saints, Canon Davis is one of two in Huron Diocese named after clergy. The other is Bishop Cronyn Memorial in London.

The growth of Canon Davis Memorial in the late 20’s meant the old church wasn’t sufficient for its needs, so plans were made to build a new church. The result is the current building, designed by Chester Woods, to be a Gothic structure in the English parish church style. It opened in 1931, with a mortgage of $17,500 a large sum for a church in the depression era.

The old Oil Springs church was moved a small distance to become a parish hall, until 1957 when a new parish hall was built.

The 30’s were a time of growth for the young parish. On one Sunday in 1932 attendance at Sunday school was reported at 236.

The mortgage for the church building was finally burned in 1949. The next year a new rectory was constructed next to the church, a brick two storey building with four bedrooms, for $17,000.

Families at the church have been very generous in donating memorials, most notably the lovely stained glass windows in the nave of the church.

The current rector at Canon Davis, the Rev’d Bob Bettson, arrived from the South Parkland Parish in the Diocese of Brandon, last September. He is the 11th cleric to serve the parish since 1931.

The last two rectors, the Rev’d Canon Bill Jones (1959-86) and the Venerable Gordon Simmons ((1986-2009) cover a remarkable 50 year span in the parish’s 85 year history.

The parish his issued an open invitation to all friends, former parishioners and members of Canon Davis Memorial to attend both the service tomorrow at 11am and the luncheon. Come and share your memories!

What a lawyer we have in Jesus

2011-06-03T05:21:00.000-07:00

Homily for The Sixth Sunday of Easter, May 29, 2011

How would like to have Jesus as your lawyer? That may sound slightly irreverent.

But there is truth in this statement, and today’s Gospel passage from John teaches us an aspect of Jesus which is sometimes overlooked.

Jesus tells his disciples that after He is no longer on earth, God will send them an advocate, the spirit of truth, which the world will not understand, only those who have faith.

The Greek word for advocate is paraclete, which literally means an attorney for the defense and a comforter in suffering.

Indeed the whole of the Gospel of John is an exercise in signs, wonders witnesses, testimony and confession. The story of Jesus being arrested, tried and condemned to death has all the elements of a courtroom drama.

If we think of Jesus as a lawyer, an advocate for us, it is surely an empowering thought. After all Jesus stares down all those who challenge him in the Gospel narratives with great wit, wisdom and intellect.
He is the consummate advocate, the one who turns the tables, the one who we would like to represent us if we were on trial.

And that’s the whole point. Other faiths have remote and unapproachable deities, while Jesus is present with us, standing alongside us.

Many Christians have testified to that experience of the Holy Spirit working among us. It isn’t something that ended when the period of the early church came to an end, and the Christian faith became institutionalized.

Jesus is with us, as a comforter, as an advocate, during good times and bad.

Those Athenians Paul was preaching to worshipped an unknown God. Jesus is a known God, and we believe he is part of the Trinity, the triune God, one in three and three in one.

It may seem to some to be a theological construct, which is difficult to understand.

Throughout the ages the idea of God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit has helped us to grasp the infinite power and wisdom of the almighty, who can be both the creator the universe, and yet stands alongside us in our journey of faith.

I’m happy with the thought that I have Jesus as an advocate, a lawyer. And while lawyer’s fees have gone beyond the ability of the average person to afford, Jesus asks only that we have faith and follow two great commandments—love God and love our neighbour. That’s a pretty good offer.

Now I’d like to shift gears and turn over the rest of this sermon time to Wendy Heasman to report on our Diocesan Synod held May 15-17. It has been the tradition of our parish to have synod delegates report back. I am always available for any questions about the life and work of the Diocese and our Deanery. I plan to write something about the synod for our newsletter as well as the Huron Church News.

I Know that My Redeemer Lives-A Memorial Homily

2011-05-26T15:07:00.000-07:00

Frances Skelton 1936-2011

I know that my Redeemer lives.

That memorable phrase from Job, in the Hebrew Bible, was immortalized by George Frederick Handel in his beloved Oratorio Messiah.

Fran Skelton was an exceptional singer, mother, wife, friend, and believer. I met Fran last fall when I moved to Sarnia. And her strong faith was evident from our first meeting.

It was a privilege to be with her a number of times during her last few months, as her health deteriorated. Her faith never wavered. She never complained. She displayed a courage and quiet confidence in the face of suffering which was amazing.

That’s why it is a privilege to offer a brief reflection this morning. In spite of all the suffering Job undergoes, in spite of all the pain, all the loss, Job refuses to deny God. His faith is rock solid.

Facing a terminal illness is a real challenge to our faith. It’s not easy to accept the pain, the suffering and the loss involved.

But our faith allows us to put our hopes and our dreams not only in the challenges of our life on earth, but in God’s promise, through his son Jesus, of eternal life, where there is no pain or suffering, where all tears are wiped away.

Christ offers to take our burdens, our cares. As St. Paul taught the people of the church in Rome so many years ago: nothing can separate us from the love of God, including death.

Those ringing words expressing confidence in Christ’s victory over death, God’s promise of salvation for all who believe, provide us with a way to face our culture’s fear of death.

And make no mistake there is an element of death denial, of science playing God, not only extending life, but creating life in our current secular society. The resurgence in militant atheism, displayed by authors such as Richard Dawkins, argues that once we gasp our last breath, it’s over. It is finished. There is nothing more.

As Christians, we have faith that they are wrong. We owe it to Fran and all those who have faithfully served this parish church through 85 years of its history to proclaim that as long as we are able---to speak truth to the faithless, to show by our loving and caring community and how we support each other that both our faith and the church do matter.

We know that our Redeemer lives. Fran certainly knew that. We give thanks for the privilege of having shared the journey of life with her.

The Folly of Predicting the End Times

2011-05-24T05:08:00.000-07:00

Homily May 22, 2011 Easter 5 Yr. A

Well, we are still here. Or else I wouldn’t be speaking to you this morning. Most of us probably heard about the billboards in Windsor and other cities in North America which called yesterday—May 21, 2011, judgment day, the time of the end of the world predicted in Bible, according to 89 year old Christian radio talk show host Harold Camping.

Many of Camping’s tiny group of followers honestly believed his calculations of the end times, quit their jobs and sold their possessions.

Sadly this kind of speculation about the end times has been around for centuries, and always would-be predictors have set a date based on the visions of John of Patmos in the book of Revelation, and waited.

When the world has not come to an end, it has been an embarrassment not only for them, but for the Church—which has unfortunately become an object of ridicule because of a few misguided believers.

Taking the Bible literally—or in the plain sense of the words
And applying our own prejudices in seeking connections with current events is a fool’s game. Jesus teaches that we will know neither the day nor the hour, when the world as we know it will come to an end.

Therefore we are to live each day as if it were our last, loving God and loving our neighbour—and modelling our lives on Jesus.

Today’s Gospel includes a phrase which—like the visions of the end times in the book of Revelation—have been much misinterpreted.

Jesus says I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to my father, except through me.

Many have interpreted this to mean anyone who is not a Christian. Anyone who follows Islam, Judaism, Buddhism or any other faith is automatically doomed to hell—which we would see as separation from God our creator.

But there is a story I came across about Billy Graham, arguably one of the worlds greatest evangelists, who was asked about this text when he spoke to students at Harvard University.

An earnest Christian student asked a pointed question: “Since Jesus said I am the way, the truth and the life, and no-one comes to the father except through me, doesn’t that mean people from other religions are going to hell?”

Dr. Graham replied: “I’m sure glad that God is the judge of people’s hearts and not me. And I trust God to decide those questions justly and mercifully.”

The student was disappointed not to have a clearcut answer and pressed further: “Well, what do you think God will decide?”

Dr. Graham responded: “Well, God doesn’t really ask my advice on these matters.”

Another questioner asked: “Well what about those who aren’t even monotheists—like the Buddhists?”

But Dr. Graham replied: “You know I have been to some Buddhist countries and so many of the people I’ve met seem to live more like Jesus than many Christians I’ve met.”

What Dr. Graham is saying is that the invitation to follow Jesus as the way, the truth and the life is not an exclusive one—it isn’t meant to limit the followers of Jesus to an elite. Instead it is meant as an open invitation to follow Jesus.

To follow Jesus means not to divide, but to include, to welcome, to care for our fellow human beings.

The theme of the Diocesan Synod which concluded on Tuesday was Astonished by Grace. Next week as part of the time, both Wendy Heasman, our delegate, and I will report on our experience of Synod.

It was inspiring to hear stories of God’s grace in the work of Anglicans throughout southwestern Ontario. It’s important for us to realize we are part of something larger.

We face the common challenge of living out our Christian faith in a secular world where the gospel and the church are often marginalized.

The way forward to us is renewal, recovering the excitement of learning our story, the story of scripture in a society where many Bibles sit on shelves, unread.

If anything the success of the church in the first two decades on my life—the 50’s and 60’s—was an aberration. It was the high water mark for Canon Davis, for most other congregations.

Yet now we have to realize that unique set of circumstances in which our congregations flourished in those two decades will never happen again and we have to seek out new patterns for our lives together.

We are not alone in facing these challenges. And there are no easy answers. But we have the assurance from Jesus, that we must not let our hearts be troubled—because indeed there are many mansions in God’s house. There is room for all.

So we can know the way, through Jesus, following his teachings. That way is the way of service, of caring, of sharing the bread and wine together, of hearing the word, of discerning how we can live out our faith.

No-one has seen God. The current fad which has seen the growth of best selling books by atheists denying God’s existence and debunking Christianity and other faiths, is a symptom of our sceptical age.

No-one has seen God. But Jesus was a real person, sent by God, whose life was mentioned by non-Christian historians, and who was crucified, died and rose again.

In Jesus, we have a doorway to God, a doorway which is the way, the truth and the life. That is something we must share with others as we live out our faith.

From a different planet?

2011-05-24T05:01:00.000-07:00

Homily Easter 4 Year A May 15, 2011

They devoted themselves to the apostles teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. All who believed were together and held all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need.

This description of the early followers of Jesus at the time of the apostolic mission sounds like something from a different planet to 21st century ears.

Here we have a group of people who share their faith and their life in community, in a way which was totally contrary to the agrarian economy of the first centuries communities clustered around the Mediterranean.

Not only were those communities governed by the stern hand of Rome, they had a rigid class system with Romans, landowners, and local authorities at the top, merchants and small farmers in the middle and peasants and slaves at the bottom.

So when the early Christian communities described in Acts were forming, they faced formidable obstacles.

And that’s where the teaching of Jesus from John’s Gospel, of the psalms, and of Peter, come in.

Jesus describes himself as the good shepherd, and the gate for salvation for all. He comes that we may have life, and live it abundantly.

But that doesn’t mean things will be easy. As Peter reminds us, being faithful to Jesus, to God, can sometimes mean suffering unjustly. Christ himself suffered unjustly. And so Christians throughout the ages have often suffered unjustly.

But as an Easter people we believe Christ conquered sin and death, and gives us new life through his Resurrection.

One of the greatest images of consolation in our scriptures is provided by the 23rd psalm. We are both humbled in awe of these words:

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures and leads me beside still waters.

He revives my soul and guides me along right pathways for his names sake. Though I walk through the valley of death, I shall fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff they comfort me. You spread a table before me in the presence of those who trouble me; you have anointed my head with oil, and my cup is running over. Surely your goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

What strikes me about these words is how much they comfort us at many times in our lives, not just when approaching death.

Our souls long for peace, in our relationships, in our jobs, in our homes and communities. God desires that we find that peace, which passes understanding.

As Christians we believe we can find that peace in Jesus, and in community with other followers of Christ.

When we gather to worship each week in this parish church, as we have for the past 85 years we are doing the same thing those early Christians did—devoting ourselves to the apostles teaching and fellowship, and to the breaking of bread and prayers.

He is Risen Indeed, Alleluia

2011-04-24T17:45:00.000-07:00

Easter Homily 2011

Jesus Lives!

That is the Good News we proclaim on Easter Day. We continue to experience our Risen Lord to this day, in a way not confined to flesh and blood, time and space.

It may have been two thousand years since that dawn on the first day of the week when Mary Magdalene and the other Mary came to see the tomb where Jesus was laid.

But the theme of Easter—that Jesus lives and will be with his followers for all time—remains the same.

The Resurrection, an event of great power and mystery, is one which leaves us grasping for words to express its life-changing force.

Easter completes the story of Jesus in one way. It moves us from death to Resurrection and new life. It also moves us from Crucifixion, a humiliating death, to vindication, God’s victory over the forces of evil and darkness.

Easter speaks of God’s unending love for the world, despite our human failings in all ages. God is with us in Jesus, his son.

The followers of Jesus huddled away in the upper room, afraid of discovery by the Jewish and Roman authorities after Jesus died on the cross. The Gospel accounts don’t reflect well on his disciples. Despite what Jesus taught them, melt away the the going gets tough and Jesus goes on trial, and is condemned to death.

Indeed in Matthew’s Gospel it is reported, as in other Gospel’s that the women who followed Jesus, not the eleven, are the ones who came first to the tomb.

Matthew’s brief account of that first Easter morning underlines the cosmic significance of the events of that day.
There was an earthquake. And an angel of the Lord rolls away the stone.

The supernatural appearance of the angel---similar to the transfigured Jesus on the mountain which his disciples have witnessed---tells the women not to be afraid. Jesus is not here. He has been raised from the dead.

The angel tells them they must go tell the other disciples what they have seen, and that they too will see him.

Then they meet Jesus, and he repeats the command, after they worship him.

This is a fascinating and tantalizingly brief description. It leaves us wanting more.

The scientific revolution which has characterized the last three hundred years, and particularly the last hundred years, has caused some people to doubt the truth of the Resurrection, as well as other miracles, healings and supernatural events described in the Gospels.

But while we can’t explain this event scientifically, we believe as Christians that God, the creator of the universe, is surely capable of doing what the Gospels testify to.

There are many events in history we can’t explain or prove through scientific evidence. And many scientists are Christians. Some are ordained clergy.

What remains for us is the fundamental truth of Easter: that a dispirited band of the followers of Jesus, who could have fled the scene and gone back to fishing, tax collecting and other pursuits, became transformed into evangelists. They took on the task of the great commission, to spread the Good news to others—the news of Jesus the son of God, crucified and risen again---and the message of salvation he taught.

The post-Resurrection appearances of Jesus, which begin with this text, play an important role in enabling the disciples and other followers of Jesus to testify to the Resurrection.

Jesus is no longer a martyr, unjustly executed. He lives in a transformed body, at least temporarily, so that his followers might know that He has conquered death.

This is no ghost, because he eats and drinks with his friends. But on the other hand it is not a resuscitated body—as with Lazarus, because there is no suggestion in any text that his ministry continues—only that he appears to many, then ascends---leaving the Holy Spirit with his followers to guide them and comfort them.

The Resurrection should not be taken as a signal that we as followers of Jesus, can sit back and bask in the glow of the certainty that through Jesus we have found the key to eternal life.

That leads to an innocuous Jesus, cheap grace, and inaction. Instead our New Testament, our new covenant with God, calls us to action.

We are not only to preach the Good News, we are to put the good news in action by working for a better world, a world of life, love and hope, not despair, hatred and death.

Our world is full of despair. The Easter message of the Gospel can bring hope—not just an individual basis but for communities, and nations.

Author Nancy Sehested writes:

“Resurrection happened not with trumpet sounds, and Easter lilies and budding trees and a great burst of sunlight, but in the early morning mist, while it was too dark to see clearly. It came through weeping and weariness, through fear and confusion, through the disorientation of grief, through arms reaching out to feel the way in the darkness. . . It came because God is a God who breathes life into dead bones.”

Easter is a new beginning. Nothing has changed, and yet everything has changed, now that Jesus has risen. With the new energy they have found the disciples begin the long and risky task of proclaiming the Gospel.

The Jewish authorities and the Roman authorities are still there. But they are soon to learn that by crucifying Jesus, they didn’t erase his memory, his ministry, his followers, or his power.

The same Peter who denied Jesus three times would become one of the early leaders on “The Way,” the name for the followers of Jesus—still a Jewish Christian sect at that time.

Peter, like many of the other disciples would meet his death at the hands of the Romans. . .but not before doing the groundwork for the building of the early Christian church.

Easter is something we still wonder at, as we mark this great festival each year. It is almost too much to comprehend.

Theologian Walter Bruggemann writes:

“Easter is not for arguing or explaining or disputing in order to domesticate it to our categories of reasonableness. It is for storytelling that leaves us in awe, and for preaching that asserts what the church knows deeply and trusts completely.”

Taking Up Our Cross

2011-04-22T14:27:00.000-07:00

Good Friday Homily 2011

Today we are called as Christians to stand at the foot of the cross.

In a world where success is the measure and justification of all things, the figure of him who was sentenced and crucified remains a stranger.

That reflection by Deitrich Bonheoffer, the German theologian executed by the Nazis encapsulates why the message of Good Friday is lost in our secular culture of materialism and the pursuit of progress.

Even among Christians there is too often a movement from celebrating the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem on that first Holy Week to rejoicing over our Risen Lord on Easter, and proclaiming the empty tomb as the sign of victory over death.

But we are here this morning to stand at the foot of the cross, and reflect on Jesus, the suffering servant. Jesus the man who suffered a humiliating, painful and ignominious death—usually reserved for slaves, rebels and common criminals.

The historian Josephus writes of mass Crucifixions in Palestine under Roman rule, as the Romans sought to crush resistance to their rule.

So when the early followers of the way chose to use the cross as the symbol of their faith in Jesus they were using a symbol of a form of death most people living then would regard as one of degradation, humiliation and horror.

It is as if we used an electric chair, or a gallows as a symbol in recent western society.

The Cross is a reminder of the radical call Jesus makes when he teaches that to follow him, we need to deny ourselves, to take up the cross.

He teaches that if we want to save our lives we will lose them. But if we are prepared to lose our lives for his sake and the sake of the Gospel, our lives will be saved.

It’s hard to wrap our heads around that. The disciples of Jesus certainly have difficulty.

Take Peter. When Jesus asks who do you say that I am, he answers with a clear and certain—“You are the Messiah.” Yet Peter is the one who ends up paralyzed with fear after Jesus is taken prisoner, and denies him three times.

The Messiah as suffering servant is something Jews have always struggled with. The Jewish author and historian Philo wrote that the Messiah would “take the field and make war and destroy the great and populous nations.”

That warrior Messiah hope isn’t hard to understand, the Jewish people having been enslaved by Babylonians, Greeks and Romans. They yearned for deliverance just as their ancestors had under the yoke of the rule of Pharaoh in Egypt.

Jesus brought a different idea of what a Messiah would be---one who would sacrifice his life, and rise again so that all who follow him might find salvation and eternal life.

But the discipleship Jesus wants is a costly discipleship—taking up our own cross, denying ourselves, being prepared to care for others above ourselves.

So being a follower of Christ means suffering and sacrifice. We have to preach the Good news of the gospel.

During this season of Lent as we prepared for Easter, it was a time of reflection, not just to wallow in thoughts of sin, and gloom, but to examine ourselves, to seek to grow in faith and love.

Self-denial is not something which is embraced by our dominant culture.

Neither is forgiveness.

But Christ died for us. And as Bonhoeffer writes, if we follow Jesus it makes a fundamental difference on how we live:

I can no longer condemn or hate a brother [or sister] for whom I pray, no matter how much trouble he causes me. His face that hitherto may have been strange and intolerable to me is transformed through intercession into the countenance of a brother for whom Christ died.

So we need to take seriously the call to take up our cross to serve Christ—to see Christ in those in need of comfort, of food, of any kind of help. Let us pray this Good Friday that we might better discern how to follow Jesus, our risen Lord, our suffering servant.

From the Triumphal Entry to Calvary

2011-04-18T16:30:00.000-07:00

Introduction to the Dramatic Reading of the Passion for Palm Sunday, according to Matthew

You may ask why we read an account of that first Holy Week, from the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem to when Jesus is laid in the tomb on Good Friday.

Why not linger on Palm Sunday, the joyous celebration of a humble King, who rides into the Holy City on a donkey?

We can celebrate that triumphant day, remembering it with palm branches and palm crosses, but we must also prepare ourselves for the more painful remembrance of how Jesus was betrayed, put on trial, and put to death as even his most loyal followers deserted him.

There are four tellings of this story in the Bible. And if you read the passion accounts of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John you will find many differences.

For me that adds power and truth to the story. If all accounts were identical there would always be lingering doubts if the writers had combined to agree on what story to tell.

Instead we have different oral traditions passed down and written down for different audiences from 30 to 50 years after the events described.

These are not histories. They are the Good News, a statement of faith.

While there are differences, there are also common elements.

The best way to think of it is scenes in a movie. First, there is the triumphal procession. Then later in the week in the upper room Jesus gathers his small community of disciples to share a last meal together.

Jesus institutes the Lord’s Supper, which we call the Eucharist or the Holy Communion, using the bread and wine as his body and blood. “Do this in remembrance of me,” he tells his friends.

Then in Garden of Gethsemane as Jesus goes to pray, we see his vulnerability as he awaits his betrayal.

In the Judgment Hall of Pilate, Jesus is brought before the power of Rome. But he says little in his defense.

When he faces the Jewish religious leaders, the chief Priest and the elders, there is another confrontation, but Jesus doesn’t blink.

Then there is the mocking, scourging and beating at the hands of the Roman soldiers before the harrowing trip through narrow city streets carrying the cross to Calvary.

On that hill Jesus faces the almost unimaginable pain and suffering of a slow death on the cross.

This is a familiar story. But it bears repeating. It is our story as Christians. It touches us deeply.

I pray that as you listen, you will let the power of the story both inspire and move you, as we continue on our journey as followers on the risen Christ.

Raising Lazarus, and what it means for us

2011-04-13T03:19:00.000-07:00

Homily Lent 5, Yr. A 2011
This is one of the most dramatic moments in John’s gospel. Jesus goes into the tomb of his friend Lazarus. He shouts in a loud voice, Lazarus come out. Then Lazarus. Who had died four days ago and was wrapped in burial cloths in the tomb, comes out.

What a scene that must have been in the small village of Bethany, just outside Jerusalem.

Jesus had already turned water into wine, fed thousands with a few loaves and fishes, healed the sick, as well as teaching and preaching. Now he raised a dead man to life.

In the gospel of John, which is the only gospel to mention the rasing of Lazraus from the dead, this is the turning point in Christ’s ministry. It is the seventh and greatest sign in John’s Gospel.

From now on Jesus faces persecution, betrayal and death at the hands of the Jewish religious authorities and their Roman masters.

In raising Lazarus from the dead Jesus demonstrates, he has the power over life and death, a powerful message which ultimately leads to his own death and resurrection.

As this story begins Lazarus is ill. He’s the brother of Mary and Martha and they are among the followers of Jesus. So the two sisters send a message to Jesus to let him know their brother is ill and needs him.

But Jesus doesn’t drop what his is doing to come running. He lets nature run its course. And then he uses the death of Lazarus as an opportunity. “This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.”

That seems perplexing. Or it certainly did to Mary and Martha. They were aware he had healed others. They had expected him to come heal their brother.

Now we should remember here this story is only in the Gospel of John. The author uses the raising of Lazarus as both a sign that Jesus is the Son of God, and the final provocation of the religious authorities which would lead Jesus to the cross.

On the cross Jesus would be glorified, using John’s language.

After the healing, the disciples urge Jesus not to return to Judea…to go back to Palestine where he would be safer. They say his opponents are just looking for an excuse to stone him to death.

Jesus responds to the with one of his more cryptic sayings: Are there not twelve hours of daylight? Those who walk during the day do not stumble because they see the light of the world. But those who walk at night stumble because the light is not in them.”

The only way to understand this is to look at the whole story in John’s Gospel. Throughout the narrative Jesus is referred to, and refers to himself as the “light of the world.” Those who don’t believe in him are in darkness. This contrast between darkness and light is everywhere in John.

Before they leave to go to Lazarus, Jesus tells his disciples “he has fallen asleep. But I am going there to waken him. They can’t understand what he means when he says, “if he has fallen asleep he will be alright."

Then finally Jesus says “Lazarus is dead. For your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe.”

So the raising of Lazarus is a way to help them understand not only who Jesus is, but what power he has.

Martha comes out to meet Jesus when he finally arrives. In tears and distraught, she laments his absence. “Lord if you had been here my brother would not have died.”

Jesus responds with reassurance. “Your brother will rise again.|”

Martha doesn’t quite understands so she responds: “I know he will rise on the last day.”

At that time many Jews agreed with the teaching of the Pharisees which foresaw a resurrection on the last day.

But Jesus wasn’t talking about the end times. He was talking about the here and now.

And to spell it out we have one of those powerful “I am” statements which characterize John’s Gospel.

“I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, though they die, will live. And everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

Martha replies: “Yes Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.”

This encounter with Mary is not only an opportunity for Jesus to proclaim who he is, it is a chance to display his more human side, his compassion, his emotion. Mary and all her friends are weeping for their dead brother—four days in the tomb. Jesus shares their pain. The text says Jesus too began to weep.

We can surmise that Jesus was not only weeping for the loss of Lazarus, who he would raise from the dead, but for his followers, his countrymen who would abandon him as he went to Calvary.

It is one of the few times in John’s gospel Jesus shows such emotion. And the author also reports he was “greatly disturbed” as he left for the tomb.

What should we make of this remarkable story? We must remember it is not the same as the resurrection of Jesus. Lazarus is resuscitated after death. He goes on to avoid the Jewish authorities who want to kill him too.

When Christ rose from the dead, we believe it was not just a resuscitation, but Jesus in a new transformed body. He appeared and disappeared, and came through walls. Thomas was able to touch him. Yet he was not a ghost.

So the story of Lazarus is a key moment on the way to Calvary, but not a foretaste of Jesus rising from the dead.

Before Lazarus, Jesus could have been dismissed by the Jewish religious authorities as another healer, prophet and itinerant preacher who had a significant following.

After Lazarus he was a dangerous threat—a rival for religious leadership. Caiaphas, the chief priest, said on hearing of the miracle---“it is better to have one man die for the people rather than have the whole nation destroyed.”

Caiaphas and his fellow Jewish religious authorities felt threatened by Jesus. They misunderstood and feared him.

The story of the raising of Lazarus shows not only the Glory of God, but God’s love for and compassion for us. Jesus weeps for Lazarus.

And Jesus weeps for us as we struggle with the difficult things life sometimes brings us. But Jesus also rejoices with us as we find faith and joy in Him and in our neighbours who he has asked us to love and serve, as we would like to be loved and served.

About 1700 years ago, Gregory of Nansianzus, one of the fathers of the early church wrote this of Jesus in this story:

"He prays, but He hears prayer. He weeps, but He causes tears to cease. He asks where Lazarus was laid, for He was Man; but He raises Lazarus, for He was God."

Let us give thanks for the proclamation of the good news of the Gospel, and seek new life and renewal in our own lives through Jesus, our Saviour.

Who is blind anyway?

2011-04-05T16:12:00.000-07:00

Homily- Lent 4 Yr. A- Mothering Sunday 2011

The story of the healing of the man born blind from John’s gospel is not only one of the most lengthy accounts of healing in all four gospels---it deals in great detail with what happens after the healing.

It seems that even when something as wonderful as the healing of a lifelong disability happens, it is hard for everyone involved to let go of what they are used to.

Change is difficult. We can’t get around that.

For the man who was born blind, the encounter with Jesus plunged him into a new life. And it wasn’t easy. He immediately had to face the fury of the Jewish religious authorities, who challenged him, and his healing story, and sought to discredit him, and his parents.

The Pharisees were furious Jesus had again healed on the Sabbath. Even the act of leaning over to pick up the dirt to mix with spittle to rub on the man’s eyes was illegal under strict Jewish Sabbath law.

The religious authorities were frightened by change, and the threat they perceived from Jesus, who was defying them at every turn.

One of the most audacious statements from the narrative is the formerly blind man’s answer to questioning from the authorities. He wonders if they too want to follow Jesus. We can picture them exploding with anger at the boldness of this uneducated man.

We learn from this story of the man born blind that in the encounter with Jesus, everything can change.

The man didn’t know Jesus. Then Jesus healed him. At that point the man understands Jesus is a prophet and a healer.

But when he encounters Jesus again, he learns from Jesus that the man who healed him is the Son of Man, the Messiah, the Saviour long foretold.

So the man not only gains his sight, he gains his spiritual sight.

This is contrasted to the Pharisees who can see with their eyes, but are spiritually blind to Jesus and his teaching.

The Pharisees doubt the truth of the healing. They challenge the man and try to involve his parents.

Finally they end up challenging Jesus for healing on the Sabbath.

By the Pharisees own admission they don’t understand Jesus: “We know that God has spoken to Moses, but as for this man, we do not know where he comes from.”

Then the Pharisees order the former blind man out of their sight because he has seen more clearly than they—the learned religious authorities-- have.

To appreciate how remarkable this scene is—- how would we react to being called in front of three Judges and asked to explain an event when they clearly didn’t believe our account?

The former blind, who has lived his life as a beggar, displays great insight in his testimony, reported by John:

“Here is the astonishing thing. You do not know where he comes from, yet he opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to sinners, but he does listen to he who worships him and obeys his will. Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a person born blind. If this man were not of God, he could do nothing.”

The man who has been blind all his life sees better than the learned religious leaders. Jesus says: now that you (the Pharisees say “we see” your guilt remains.”

The Pharisees are certainly not alone in their spiritual blindness. The disciples ask Jesus when the see the man born blind—“Rabbis, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind.”

We have to understand that the Jewish tradition taught that the sins of the parents could be visited upon their children.

Jesus is challenging the traditional teaching. He tells the disciples neither the man, nor his parents sinned, but that the man was born blind so that God’s works could be revealed in him.

Now some people would interpret that to mean God means some people to be born with disabilities, so that God’s power can be shown.

This interpretation doesn’t accord with our belief in a merciful and caring God.

The presence of disabilities, such as blindness, is one of the mysteries of creation.

What Jesus means is that a disability such as blindness can be an opportunity to reveal God’s works, either in healing, or in caring.

What is more important than physical blindness is spiritual blindness.

Do we, like the Pharisees, let our pride get in the way of new spiritual insight?. Do we fall back on that excuse: we’ve always done it this way, or thought about it this way?

The former blind man—testifying to the healing power of Jesus—gets nothing but hostility—from his family, his friends, and the religious authorities.

They don’t know what to make of his healing and conversion.

In the same way we have to consider how we accept change and new insights in our faith communities. We,like the Pharisees, can be too caught up in seeing ourselves as the guardians of the truth, rather that opening ourselves up to the work of the Holy Spirit.

But, like the former blind man, we can also be open to spiritual growth and insight. We can display courage, as he did. And we can rejoice in our encounter with Jesus, who is with us always.

The Living Water of Jesus

2011-03-28T06:09:00.000-07:00

Water is essential for life. Yet we can easily take a plentiful supply forgranted here in Canada, with one of the largest reserves of fresh water in the world, and many lakes and rivers and underground aquifers.

But in the desert Moses and the Hebrews wandered in, the story of Exodus, and in the land of Samaria, where Jesus encountered this unknown woman at the well, water was not taken forgranted. It was highly valued.

In our scriptures water is a symbol of life, both for the Hebrew people of Exodus and for the Samaritan woman.

Yet the Hebrews and the Samaritan woman had a thirst which couldn’t be quenched by the water the earth provided, but only by the grace and love of God.

When Jesus met the Samaritan woman, the furthest thing from her mind was that her life would be transformed by meeting this Jewish stranger.

Who knows what she was thinking as this man approached her and asked for water.

Up until that point she seems to have led a challenging life. That’s why she’s gathering water in the heat of the day, when no-one else is around.

What strikes us about this remarkable story, one of the longest dialogues in the Gospels, is that God reaches out to this woman through Jesus, offering her grace and healing she has never found before.

What makes this all the more remarkable is that Jesus, as a Jewish man, would never have been expected to have any contact or conversation with a Samaritan, let alone a Samaritan woman.

Samaritans and Jews were bitter enemies. They did not share things in common.

Samaritans built their own Temple at Mount Gerazim in competition with the Temple of Jerusalem. Jewish troops destroyed the Samaritan temple in 128 BC.

So this meeting broke all society’s unwritten laws, a man speaking to a woman, a Jew speaking to a Samaritan.

And the well was the domain of the Samaritan woman.

John tells this story at length to show the world the good news of Christ—the living water—is for all of us, men and women, of all racial and ethnic backgrounds.

Jesus breaks down the barriers which keep us apart to bring the living water of Salvation.

This is part of the signs and wonders Gospel we are now studying each Monday afternoon.

John was written about 90AD in the context of an early Jewish Christian community which had been expelled from synagogue and Temple worship.

The Gospel writer makes it clear Christ is the saviour, not just of the Jews, but of Gentiles as well, and even hated rivals, such as the Samaritans.

In fact, it is the Samaritans, represented by the woman at the well and her fellow villagers who are the first to recognize Jesus as the Messiah, the saviour, the Son of God.

Perhaps one of the most misunderstood parts of the story is the conversation between Jesus and the Samaritan woman over her past. Jesus tells her she has had five husbands. Some commentators have used this to suggest she was of questionable moral chracter.

But we notice that Jesus doesn’t say anything to her about sin, and forgiveness, as he does in other stories, like the woman caught in adultery.

Perhaps the Samaritan woman had suffered enough from her bad choices in life.

Jesus gave her the peace and strength she needed to carry on. He gave her the living water of salvation by revealing himself to her as the Messiah after she had first called him a prophet.

Now I’d like to go back to the story from Exodus. We have those murmuring, grumbling, complaining people of Israel, whining about a lack of water. Rather than rejoice that they have escaped slavery in Egypt they are giving Moses a hard time, demanding action.

We’d be better off back in Egypt, they said. At least we’d have water.

The people of Israel are suffering from a crisis of faith. They knew God had brought them this far, saved them from Pharoah’s army.

But the desert was a scary place. They were thirsty. And they began to doubt whether God would provide the water they needed to stay alive. They were in a foreign land. Their fear turned to anger with Moses and with God.

Sure God had parted the Red Sea. But that was past. Now they were thirsty, and someone had better do something about it.

As they were to learn, with God all things are possible. In spite of their lack of trust in God, the rocks explode with living water when Moses strikes them.

God reached out to those grumbling Hebrews, and he reached out to the Samaritan woman.

As Christians we believe God reaches out to us through Jesus, providing us with the living water we need, our faith through the Holy spirit.

Each of us probably has a story about a thirst we can not quench through the water of the world. And we each probably have a story of the saving grace of God which we have finally accepted.

The reassuring thing about the story of the Samaritan woman is its offer of redemption to those who are rejected by the world.

The Samaritan woman begins the journey to faith by sharing her encounter with her friends and neighbours, who come to meet Jesus too.

This unnamed woman becomes a disciple of Christ, despite her faults.

So we can all be disciples, whatever our shortcomings. One interesting footnote to the story is that the disciples who were not with Jesus when he encountered the woman, are shocked that he would speak to her. But when they learn about this meeting, they are afraid to ask him about it.

Henri Nouwen, a well known Christian author, coined the term “wounded healer” to refer to the ministry we undertake in following Christ.

We admit that we are all wounded in some way, and try to offer what we can to love God and love our neighbour.

Let us give thanks during this Lenten pilgrimage that God’s grace is a gift, whatever wounds we bear.

Transfiguration for us?

2011-03-21T05:13:00.000-07:00

Homily Lent 2, March 20, 2011

I don’t know about you, but watching the earthquake, and tsunami, and nuclear tragedy unfold in Japan has been difficult for me.

It is hard to watch the suffering and death among my fellow human beings. Thanks to modern technology we have a much clearer idea of what is happening---the devastation, the shock and sadness of the faces of the people.

Perhaps that’s why I’d like to begin my meditation on the Transfiguration of our Lord Jesus Christ with a brief story to brighten your morning:

A teacher in a Sunday school class was reading the story of the Transfiguration of Jesus from Matthew’s Gospel, and she notice one little boy seemed confused.

When she finished reading she asked him: “Johnny, why don’t you tell us where Jesus was in the story?”

“He was on a mountain,” he replied.

“Yes, that’s right,” the teacher said. “Now, do you remember why he was up there?”

“I guess that’s where his math class was,” said Johnny, still looking a little confused.
The teacher looked at him and wondered what he was talking about. “What do you mean— Jesus didn’t have a math class.”

“Well,” Johnny replied. The Bible said Jesus went up the mountain and he began to FIGURE.”

Well we won’t be having math class here this morning. Instead of figuring, we are considering this mountain top experience---this transfiguration of Jesus and what it means to us in our spiritual journey this Lent.

When Jesus takes Peter, James, and John on top of the mountain—he is transfigured before their eyes—which means his appearance changes to pure white—whiter than they had ever seen.

And the spirits of Moses and Elijah, the law and the prophets, appear along with him.

The voice from above says: “This is my beloved son in whom I am well pleased.”

When we marked the Baptism of Christ at the beginning of Epiphany, the celebration of Christ as the light of the world, the voice from heaven used these same words.

The second time God adds: “Listen to Jesus.”

Following the Transfiguration, Jesus begins his final journey to Jerusalem, towards the Cross on Calvary. We follow him on this path each year as we mark the Lenten season.

The Transfiguration is an important story in many ways. It vividly depicts God’s light shining through Jesus to prepare his disciples for the challenges ahead.

It also teaches us that we can’t stay on the mountain top in our spiritual journey.

The disciples didn’t have an easy time listening to Jesus. Peter, who later denies Christ three times, testifies to Christ’s power and glory in the transfiguration story.

Indeed in his letter—now part of scripture-- he mentions the story of the Transfiguration, the only mention of it outside the Gospels.

The Transfiguration story also reinforces the Jewish roots of our Christian faith, being patterned on the story of Moses meeting God on the mountain in the Book of Exodus.

The story of the Transfiguration, with its supernatural character, is a key moment in the Gospel story, not so much for Jesus as for his most trusted disciples.

It was, for them, a sign. After all, while they had accompanied Jesus in his ministry of teaching and healing, they would need the Transfiguration: this vision of God shining in the face of the man they knew as their master and friend to inspire them on their journey.

Perhaps this vision gave them more clarity, more capacity to see God’s hand at work through Jesus, and then shining forth through their own efforts.

Rather than focus on the darkness of the world, the Transfiguration offers us an image of God’s light breaking in dramatically, transforming, enlivening and energizing God’s people—a light in the midst of darkness.

On that mountain-top Jesus is temporarily transported into the timeless cosmos—a vision of God’s love for humanity. But, like the disciples, we can’t stay there. We have to live in a hurting world.

And we are reminded that despite the apocalyptic or end times scenes of death and destruction, through wars, earthquakes, fires, and floods, that we are called to live in the present as God’s faithful servants, and continue as Christ did, on our journey.

As a parish celebrating 85 years of mission and ministry this year, we need to also consider the lessons of the Transfiguration.

We can’t compare what our parish life was in the 50’s, 60 and 70’s—when the Sundays schools and pews were full, and the church was a centre for the surrounding community, with the hall in constant use.

Perhaps that was a mountain top experience for the church in some ways; for Canon Davis and for many other parishes.

However, times have changed and we have to deal with the same reality Jesus and his disciples dealt with when they came down from the mountain, a hurting world in need of healing.

Perhaps our vision of what our life as a parish has to be Transfigured, so we can find new ways of shining the light of the love of Jesus in this community.

We have to think outside the box, and try new things. Let us pray as we observe our Lenten journey that we find strength to love and serve Jesus.

Lent 2011: Facing Temptation

2011-03-13T13:11:00.000-07:00

Homily Lent 1 Yr. A

Sackcloth & ashes & psalms penitential,

bowing & scraping, looking reverential.

ashes on foreheads, repenting of sins –

these are a few of our Lenten things..

Downcast expressions & copious masses,

Beating of breasts & whipping of lashes,

No chocolate, no fun, no drinking of gin –

These are a few of our Lenten things..

When the sun shines,

When our hearts sing,

When we're feeling glad,

We simply remember our Lenten things,

& then we feel quite bad.

(to the tune of My Favourite Things, from Sound of Music)

Well, I don’t think those will ever be sung on stage anywhere. But that’s perhaps the popular impression of Lent, a season when Christians are supposed to drop their alleluias and glorias from worship, give up something, preferably a vice, and engage in prayer, confession, and study to prepare ourselves for the Easter feast to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus.

There’s some truth to the popular impression. Lent, for those Christians who observe it, is an important time of self examination and penitence. It is a yearly reminder of the cross we bear as Christians. We are connected to the journey to the cross, and the sacrifices made by Jesus, as he offered up his life on our behalf.

Since Lent is a time of self-examination for individual Christians, it is also a time of self-examination for Christian communities—congregations who are called to mission and ministry in God’s church.

Here at Canon Davis we are in the midst of a critical time in the 85 year history of this parish. The parish has not had a full time rector for a full year since 2008. Parishioners decided to seek out a new priest so the parish could continue its mission and ministry, and explore new directions in a new decade.

On behalf of the parish lay leadership I would like to keep you posted regularly on how we are doing. And that means talking about money. It is inevitable.

Money is the subject talked about almost as often as love in the Bible—there are more than 2,000 verses directly related to money in scripture.

Yet as Anglicans, we are often reluctant to talk about money, especially in church.

But the wardens and I think you need to know we are already facing a serious shortfall in 2011. Since I arrived last fall we have had a significant shortfall each month— and for the last two months—about $5,000 each month.

It means our current account is down to around $11,000 early this month----down from $30,000 when the year started.
W
e are already trying to make economies as much as possible, but we have a budget without significant spending to trim.

Most of our money is spent on building and rectory maintenance and services, and staff salaries. Our projected deficit for 2011 was $17,000 at the vestry meeting in late January, but at this point unless giving improves it will be much more.

What it boils down to is asking everyone who cares about Canon Davis to consider if it might be possible to increase your level of support.

But that isn’t enough and we recognize that. We need to attract more parishioners. We need everyone to invite friends, neighbours, relatives to join us for worship at the beautiful church.

Since it is our 85th anniversary, we hope to make a focal point for this year a celebration of the anniversary on June 5. We don’t want to wait until the fall for our customary anniversary Sunday.

This week some of our members are phoning people who are on our list but haven’t been active in recent months, to invite them to try us out again.

Our Lenten season offers not only a parish Bible study, but a study on the six marks of Mission which will include five churches from three denominations.

On Holy Week our friends at St. Bart’s are coming here for the Good Friday liturgy, and there will be an all-Sarnia Anglican church Easter Vigil at St. Bart’s at 8pm.

We, as the parish leadership team, are asking for your support both by your presence, and by your givings, as we continue with this process of renewal of the parish.

Now I’d like to turn back to our readings for the first Sunday of Lent---particularly the story of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden and Jesus being tempted by Satan in the wilderness.

The common element in these two stories is temptation. When tempted, Adam and Eve chose the path that led to death. They thought they knew better than God, so they could eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

Then even before encountering God, they tried to hide themselves.

Think of that in contrast to Jesus in the wilderness. Confronted with hunger, he is asked by the devil to turn stones into bread.

In other words –he is asked to yield to temptation and take the easy way out, after 40 days of fasting and prayer.

Then the devil challenges Jesus to throw himself off the pinnacle of the Temple, so he can be rescued by the angels and convince people of he is the Messiah.

But that temptation—which would have reduced Jesus to participating in a side-show—a spectacle, would have also taken him away from his mission—suffering in the wilderness, preparing himself for the journey to come.

And finally the challenge to bow down before the evil one, in order to achieve power over all the kingdoms of the world. That temptation dramatically demonstrates the devil’s misunderstanding of Christ’s mission.

So the question we are asked this Lent is: how do we respond to temptation?

Do we go along with the ways of the world, which value material well being over anything else, which see power and wealth as objectives, which ignore or downplay the needs of the poor, the widows, the orphans, and other disadvantaged groups?

Or, do we follow Jesus, who brought good news to the poor, who wants us to love one another as God loves us, who ate with tax collectors and sinners, and defied the conventions of his time?

We are seduced in many ways by our culture—by the internet, television, cell phones, retail stores, credit cards, the cult of celebrity which makes a sick and thoroughly obnoxious man like Charlie Sheen into a household name.

We can—like Jesus—refuse to submit to temptation—and live a different way. We have to use the wisdom, and the love God gives us to discern how to live out our faith in this often misguided culture. That’s an important thing for all of us to think about, and pray about during this season of Lent.

A Firm Foundation

2011-03-07T05:22:00.000-08:00

Homily Proper 9 March 6,2011

The parable of the wise man who built the house on a rock, at first hearing, seems pretty elementary.
After all, who would be dumb enough to build a house on sand, in a world where wind, rain and floods are all too common.
As a carpenter’s son Jesus knew the power of nature, and undoubtedly learned what precautions to take to best withstand the elements when building.
Jesus really isn’t talking about building here. He’s talking about his teaching. He’s saying it’s all well and good for you to listen, and say Lord, Lord, but now you have to do something about it.
If you don’t act on what Jesus is teaching, then you are like the fool who builds on the sand. You don’t have any foundation. You won’t last.
On the other hand, if you not only listen to Jesus, but take what he says seriously and live your life as he called you to…then you will be like the man who built a house on the rock with a firm foundation.
It’s interesting that we have this Gospel on the same day that we have Paul’s teaching that salvation comes through faith alone.
The two teachings, first by Jesus, then by his most ardent follower, do appear to differ.
This is a debate that the church has struggled with throughout its existence. In the letter from James we are told faith without works, is dead.
On the other hand, Paul argues Salvation is by faith alone here, and elsewhere in his letters.
In Matthew’s Gospel, it seems clear Jesus requires not only faith, but action based on that faith.
Listen to what he said again: “Not everyone who says to me, Lord, Lord, will enter the Kingdom of Heaven, but only the one who does the will of my father. Many will say to me on that day, Lord, Lord, did we not prophecy in your name. Did we not drive out demons in your name. Did we not do mighty deeds in your name?”
Spiritual exploits don’t seem to impress Jesus. Instead, he calls for faith which lives out his teaching in every day life.
So how do we understand Paul’s teaching and the teaching of Jesus as expressions of the same faith.
Perhaps the best way is to look at the context Paul is working in when he spreads the Gospel. He is trying to build a church, which unlike traditional Judaism is not based on the law.
While accepting the Hebrew law inherited through scripture, Paul sees the ultimate foundation of the church as faith in Christ crucified—the message of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit working in the world offering salvation to all who believe.
As a missionary to the Gentiles, Paul preaches Christ as salvation for Jews and Gentiles alike, and rejects the exclusivity of the Jewish Christians.
Salvation through faith alone, is an effort to avoid seeing God’s action as a quid pro quo…. which rewards our efforts…something we earn.
Instead, Paul sees God’s saving action through Jesus as an unmerited act of Grace.
And looking at Jesus, and what motivated this closing section of what we call the Sermon on the Mountain, a three chapter collection of Jesus teaching---we have to understand that Israel at that time was full of prophets, teachers, miracle workers, different factions of Judaism, and other religions brought in by the Romans and through commerce.
Jesus wants those who hear his teaching, not only to listen and say “what a great preacher”---he wants them to be ready to live out what he teaches. A new law, a law of love of God and love of neighbour.
In the beginning of the eighth chapter of Matthew, which follows this text, Jesus comes down from the mountain, and great crowds follow him.
In Matthew’s Gospel this is a pivotal moment in the story, and precedes dramatic healings, and other miracles.
Jesus has moved to a new stage in his ministry.
As we listen to the gospel week by week, as we worship, as we read our Bibles, as we pray, how do we take it to the next stage—and act on it?
That is something that we have wrestled with in the church for many years.
Some Christians put more stress on piety—that is dutifulness in religion. Others have put stress on caring for others, the social gospel. Still others have put more emphasis on spiritual gifts, and ecstatic worship. That is what the Pentecostal movement is all about.
What are we to make of these different manifestations of faith?
Perhaps the biggest danger is to have tunnel vision and declare that one size fits all; that we all have to live out our faith the same way.
In that respect, Anglicanism has always included great diversity as the middle way between Roman Catholicism and Protestantism.
As we enter this period of Lent, a time for self-examination and renewal of our faith, this passage calls us to look at our faith carefully, and not take it forgranted.
That’s why we are trying to offer many opportunities during Lent for worship and study. As we prepare for the great Easter feast, the coming of spring, the birth of new life, let us use Lent as a chance to check out our own foundations.
Is our faith built soundly? Or does it need remedial work?

Who Do We Serve?

2011-02-27T12:37:00.000-08:00

Homily Feb. 27/2011

Consider the birds of the air, the lillies of the field. The poetry and simplicity of this teaching of Jesus can obscure its powerful message.

It is tempting for us to go on about our lives in this increasingly complex world and say that Jesus set out an impossible ideal—don’t worry, serve God not money. Live for today. Strive for the Kingdom of God, and God will provide for you.

It all sounds to good to be true. Too idealistic. Too remote from our complex and fast moving reality two thousand years later.

But if we look at our current situation—especially the economic crisis which grips much of the world in different ways and to a different extent, the principles Jesus set out are a way we can better understand what is right and wrong, and how we should live.

The first principle Jesus sets out is that all things belong to God. Surely that means that having been entrusted with God’s creation, and the gifts to provide for us, we need to use the resources of our created world wisely, for our benefit and for future generations.

That means rather than just assess the short term profit, we need to look at long term costs and benefits of how we live out lives. Viewed from this perspective environmental issues—pollution of our air, our water, our land--are vital.

Second, Jesus says people are always more important than things. Wherever we live in the world, rich nation or poor nation, this is vital. Some of the greatest evil in the world is when people are exploited, injured or even killed simply for the sake of greater profit.

In terms of our daily lives this comes into play when we devote so much effort to gaining material well being that we lose out in what is far more important—our relationships with family and friends.

The third and last principle that Christ has teaches us here us about material possessions, is that wealth is always a subordinate good. The

Bible does not say: ‘Money is the root of all evil,’ it says that the "love of money" is the root of all evils. In other words, just having wealth is not a sin, but it does come with responsibility. If someone owns many things, it is not so much a matter for congratulation as it is a matter for prayer, that they may use them wisely, for the good of not only themselves, but others.

Now the other challenging part of this passage is Jesus and his teaching that we must not worry. We must live for the present. Let tomorrow take care of itself.

Now you might say that is fine for an itinerant preacher in Palestine in the first century, in a much more uncomplicated time and place.

After all there was no internet, no television, no modern communications of any kind.

It must have been easier to live for the present.

But Jesus grounds this teaching in our faith in God. God gave us life, created us, made us in his own image, so surely we can trust in him to provide for us.

Jesus uses the example of birds, who don’t worry. Indeed they don’t have the capacity to worry. So they don’t attempt to build up goods for the future. Their planning is limited to building nests for them to raise their young until they can fly.

Jesus says worry is useless, because ultimately our life is a gift from God, and worrying won’t alter it.

When Jesus speaks about the flowers and he speaks about the wonder of God’s creation. The lilies of the field were the scarlet poppies and anemones. They bloomed on the hillsides of first century Palestine; and yet in their brief life they were clothed with a beauty which surpassed the grandeur of Solomon, the greatest of the Hebrew kings.

When they died they were burned. The point is this. If God gives such beauty to a short-lived flower, how much more does he care for us.

Connecting faith and worry, Jesus sees worry as characteristic of those who do not know God, or distrust God. In other words, they rely on human strength. This means worry in the face of an unreliable world.

So at its root, worry is distrust in God.

Realizing they we are all susceptible to worry, Jesus offers a way to lift our worries.

First is to seek the Kingdom of God. When we live out our lives, loving God and loving our neighbour, worry no longer can dominate our lives.

We can be calm in the face of adversity.

Second, we can live for the present. Taking one game at a time is a sports cliché. Living one day at a time may seem like a trite saying—but what good does it do us to become preoccupied with past failures or successes, or live with our minds in the future. Living for today means being present to those around you. Caring for others. Caring for yourself.

Why worry about a past you can’t change, or a future which may not happen in the way you expect.

Now having said all that, this is probably some of the hardest teaching of Jesus. I struggle with worry. Sometimes a lot.

But I know through personal experience that the worry is not productive or helpful to a resolution of problems I’ve faced. And in the end, I wonder why I worried in the first place.

But in the end, it wasn’t worrying which helped me find new direction in life, it was dedicating myself to serving God, and trusting that whatever the obstacle I would find a new life.

Trust in God--rather than worry. It sounds simple. But it is our greatest challenge as Christians, especially in a world where so much is about “me” rather than “us.” About self-fulfillment and entertainment, rather than serving God.