More than facts - do tell!

Easter Day, April 24, 2011 (Matthew 28:1-10 with Acts 10:34-43

 

Have you ever tried to nail something down? It's an expression you know. Sometimes we say, "we nailed it", when we have eventually figured something out, or scored very well on an exam, or  made, to our way of thinking, some kind of conquest. Often, it feels good "nailing it". It feels for the moment at least like we are in control. Or if we "nail it" often we may have grandiose visions like "I'm the man", or "you're the woman". We're winning baby!

 

But there is reality in life that interrupts any and all such "nailing down". Cancer, heart disease, kidney stones and other painful realities. They can sweep over us. Suddenly anything that we had "nailed down" before doesn't seem to much matter at that point.

There are other realities too – wonderful realities that can unsettle any certainties that we thought we had. The birth of a child, particularly your child is wonderful. It's amazing . But now there is one who continually reminds us that we are not the center of the universe – that everything we thought we knew can be challenged and ultimately will be.

 

Then of course there is also death. Most days we may claim that we want to know just the facts. Many people in this postmodern time will call into question whether or not there are any absolute facts. Regardless of what camp we are in, death still comes. And when that one's heart, especially when your beloved's heart stops beating or their brain ceases any and all activity – well then any kind of "facts" or "lack thereof" just don't matter. Death's reality then ushers in darkness – a darkness that has the order of a definitive finality.   

 

If you doubt me ask the child whose parents have just been killed in an automobile accident. Now that young boy or girl sits in a hospital chaplain's office crying. They will never be the same. He or she will need to move on at every level, to someplace else.

 

Beyond the shadow of a doubt, death is powerfully real. Ask the loved ones of those who have had loved ones killed in Afghanistan. Ask the children whose homes have been bombed, those who have been maimed, those who have lost brothers, sisters, parents. Nor does death come alone. Death brings with it, its accomplices: pain, suffering, perhaps bitterness, anger, hatred, despair.

 

Mary Magdalene and the other Mary know about death. They know about the facts of death. Jesus has been killed. But they also know much more than just the "facts".

They know the heartbreak of watching one whom they loved being tragically executed. They had watched his pain. They felt their own pain – so great, it is incomprehensible to us. As we meet them this morning, they are on their way to the tomb. Matthew tells us that they come "to see the tomb". The tomb is the place where Jesus' dead body lies, is encased. It's a fact!

 

But God can change facts. With God new realities emerge. Realities like earthquakes. Realities like stunning messages that are not delusions. Messages that do not have human origins. Messages conveying reality which changes everything. Now the Mary's receive such a message. Yes, they are at the tomb, the tomb that had held Jesus' broken body. But now a messenger from God speaks to them. They are afraid! If God was speaking to you, what would you do? As God spoke to you, what would you feel?

 

The messenger addresses their reality: "Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who WAS CRUCIFIED. He is not here; FOR HE HAS BEEN RAISED, as he said." And then, "Come, see where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples, 'He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee'."

 

Now the women can leave the tomb. It no longer holds their Jesus. They quickly exit. They leave with mixed feelings: fear, reverence and awe. They are running, maybe even stumbling over each other. As they run, He meets them. It is the risen Jesus! Now they grab onto his feet, worshipping him. My God, could it be true? Death could not hold him. And if death could not hold him, if the tomb isn't the final fact – well, everything is new. Everything has changed! Women can be witnesses. Children and slaves are valued. Maybe there doesn't have to be slaves. Jesus reiterates the angel's message: "Don't be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee. There they will see me."

 

Supposedly Jesus had been nailed down. He had definitely died. Death had its way with him.. For sure, for sure. But now death cannot hold him. Death cannot hold, cannot claim any whom Jesus holds. And he wants to hold, to embrace us all!

 

Yes He wills to hold us through any and all of the tombs of life. Through the cancer, the heart disease and the kidney stones. Through major surgeries, the birth and death of children, parents, spouses, relationships. This isn't magic. This can't be explained or even described. But this is true! Christ is alive. He has been raised! He comes to people in so many ways.

 

We know its true not because we see Him rise from the dead. No one did. Rather, we know he's alive because even now we experience Him in our lives and the lives of others. He goes ahead of us to "Galilee" – to those places where we are living, where we have been, where we will live. He goes ahead of us to those places where we experience incredible hardship and loss. We can work at being honest about them now: those places where we come to the end of our rope and cry out, "We just can't do it anymore!", or even "My God, my God where are you, why have you forsaken me?"

 

It is especially in those places, those seeming tombs of our existence, that God intervenes bringing us new life. This new life is not a resuscitation but actually new life that rises up from the ashes of such death.

 

See the early disciples. Before and as Jesus is being nailed down they are cowards, blowhards, people wanting to be over others. But after Jesus is raised from the dead and encounters them they begin to become witnesses and servants. They no longer seek money or status. Instead because the risen Jesus is speaking to them, naming them as his brothers and sisters, freeing them from fear because he accompanies them no matter what, they are given courage to tell and show others that He lives! Neither fear nor any form of death can any longer control them.

 

It's Easter morning. Easter isn't so much about history – about what happened back there or how it happened. Easter is not so much about understanding or even attempting to explain any of that. Rather Easter is more like the act of creation. You can't see it originate but you do experience its ongoing reality. Easter is about experience, ours and others, about being encountered by the risen Lord right where we are – in joy and pain, with doubts and fears, with hopes and dreams. Easter is about sometimes being filled with fear as we encounter God but then also even at the same time experiencing great joy. Easter is about the One who was dead coming to us and telling us not to be afraid. Instead go and tell the others, yes all the others that He is alive. Because he is alive we too can actually live.

 

It's the craziest message beyond any and all kinds of logic, beyond so many facts that one could nail down. But then the one who seemingly was nailed down, Christ the Lord is risen. HE IS RISEN INDEED!                 Do tell.      Amen. 

             

Good?

Good Friday, April 22, 2011 (John 19:1-42 with Isaiah 52:3-53:12 in b.g.)

Have you ever really wanted or even attempted to see yourself as you are? It's not easy.

 

John's passion narrative holds before us a mirror – of humanity. Nor is this done in some kind of general way, but in specifics that are difficult to digest. Seeing ourselves as we are requires courage. Seeing ourselves as we are demands openness to another and even others.

 

At first glance Pilate appears powerful. He has it all – political clout, military might, judicial prudence. And yet as the so-called trial proceeds we see beyond the outer cloak to Pilate's reality. Bit by bit his lack of courage, his own abiding fear is revealed.  Do you remember as I mentioned some weeks ago – that in John's Gospel the word "Jews" does not mean Jewish people as we would understand if were to use that term.  Rather in John's Gospel the word "Jews" is often a code word for those who are opposed to Jesus (who by the way was Jewish himself) and any who followed him, many who also were Jewish. As John's passion account unfolds we hear Pilate ask Jesus if He, Jesus is the King of the Jews. Jesus responds  by saying has someone else told you about me or do you say this of your own accord? Pilate responds with a question that seems to demand a strong no, but in John's Gospel is a paradox. Pilate asks Jesus, "I am not a Jew, am I?" Now Pilate is Roman – but he is opposed to Jesus – in fact ends is the person who ends up ordering Jesus to be crucified. So, in this sense using John's code word – the question is rhetorical. Pilate is a "Jew".

 

Add to that the dynamic that Pilate who is all powerful in terms of his position becomes afraid of those religious authorities who are under him – betraying his own conscience which dictates that Jesus is innocent. Instead of honouring this innocence Pilate orders Jesus to be crucified.

 

From the outside Pilate is the Roman governor: reasoned, strong, unafraid. But looking closer in Pilate's encountering Jesus we see that Pilate waffles. Pilate is afraid. He will compromise himself to supposedly save his position.

 

Similarly with the chief priests, the main religious authorities of the Jewish people: they take great pains to remain ritually clean. Nevertheless they are so filled with anger, with hatred towards Jesus that when push comes to shove they will do anything to get rid of him. And I do mean anything. In fact at one point they claim to have no king, no Lord but Caesar, that very leader of Rome who made claims for himself that he was god, the saviour of the world. They are willing to jettison the core conviction of their faith to get rid of this Jesus to maintain their position, retain their authority and in essence save face. From this mentality they literally scream, "Crucify him, crucify him!"

 

It may be easy for us to judge, even to condemn Pilate or the chief priests. But as we remember Jesus hanging on the cross for the world, as we hear Isaiah's claim that all like sheep have gone astray, we need not spare ourselves from an honest examination.

 

How do we respond in the light of God's holiness, God's call upon our lives for justice, mercy, love? We can rationalize or compare ourselves to others in our own mind's eye. But that's not what Jesus is about. Jesus is about reality and truth – reality as seen by more than just us, as viewed by God, which includes what is going on inside our heads and hearts as regarding the needs of all people and all creation.  

 

Do we, are we loving our neighbours as ourselves? Do we, are we loving God with all our hearts, minds and strength ? Looking around at the world – at the creation groaning because of our usage, at people fighting with one another while hurting and even killing each other – not only in the Middle East but here at home – in domestic disputes , in inter church bickering – in ignorance between and among religions, well,  we will have to admit that we too miss the mark often by a long shot. As we view Jesus hanging on the cross we need to see and admit that we need help, forgiveness, new beginnings that will involve a change of heart and mind for ourselves again and again and again. In this way Good Friday and Jesus' crucifixion are like a mirror that speaks to us quite honestly. Dealing with these realities are  INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT.

 

But this speaking from the events of Good Friday, from Jesus being on the cross, do not end there. THANK GOD!

 

Do we hear Jesus speaking from the cross today? In John's account he doesn't say much verbally. But his few words are deep – deeper than the ocean. Jesus looks at his mother and at the disciple he loves. He realizes that he must leave them. But he will not leave them, ALONE! He gives them each other, even as he is emptying himself for them and for all people, for all creation. WOMAN, HERE IS YOUR SON. Then to that disciple, "HERE IS YOUR MOTHER!"

 

On the cross Jesus allows us as we human beings are to do our worst to him. But miraculously on the cross from such vulnerability and weakness, His incredible love as God's Word in the flesh shines through. He embraces us. He dies so that we can live – not just survive, not necessarily keep our positions and certainly not our pretence – but so that we could be embraced by the love and forgiveness of God and begin again, honestly, to be opened to the reality that we are not God. Instead, but God revealed in this dying One on the cross loves us and the world. He wills to lead us through our pretence and our obsessions with death to something new, something very different.

 

So, dare to come to the cross of Jesus today. While there see and hear, be open to reality, to truth – not as we might like it, but as it is. By the grace of God in Jesus Christ, this, then is GOOD FRIDAY. Amen.  

Stinky Feet 'N All

Maundy Thursday, April 21, 2011 (John 13:1-17, 31b-35 with Exodus 12:1-14 and I Cors. 11:23-26 in b.g.)

Main Thought – Jesus' love is beyond affection – it is for those disciples – it is for us- it is all in – and it is box destructing.

Have you ever washed anyone's feet when they were really dirty? Have you ever fed anyone a meal when they couldn't feed themselves – or cleaned up after them when they weren't in control of their bodily functions? If you haven't, I hope that you get to sometime.

 

You see we don't undertake such tasks unless we truly care about that person – unless we believe they have inherent value – and matter to us, to others, to God.

 

Jesus' disciples had gathered for a meal. It was near the end of his life, very near the end. I am not sure that they realized this – but somehow he did. In fact John tells us this: "Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end."

 

We get a glimpse of that love tonight. In Jesus' time only slaves watched other people's feet – or – the host may provide you with a basin of water so that you could wash your own. But never did a free person, a person of any free standing wash someone else's feet. I mean the feet were at most in sandals. They trekked through the grime of the streets – not just dirt, but often open sewage. And so when they came into someone's home, they needed washing. That's what slaves were for. Or, if necessary of course you could do your own obligatory washing.

 

And yet that night Jesus showed them a different way. It was really only the tip of the iceberg. Tomorrow the whole thing will be lifted up out of the water – His different way, His love that is so far beyond affection or like that sometimes we can't even begin to comprehend.

 

Peter objects. Jesus was not going to wash Peter's feet. But Jesus points even beyond the literal. If I do not wash you, if I do not give you from the totality of myself as a free and undeserved gift, you do not share in me. And Peter, God love Peter, ever so literal, ever so quick with his tongue, sometimes before his mind engaged responds, –"Not only my feet Lord, but my hands and my head."

 

Peter doesn't 'get it' – there's no such thing as a partial gift from Jesus. He gives his all. Having loved his own – he loved them to the end.

 

Do we "get it"? Can we?

 

We have our boxes don't we? Rich and poor? Fat and slim? White, Asian, European, Black! Employed, unemployed, retired, young, old, believer, unbeliever, kind, selfish, smart, stupid – first world, second world, third world. I could go on ad nauseum.  We love our boxes. So often we construct them unconsciously. We put people and often ourselves in such boxes. And we allow, sometimes we want the boxes to separate us from one another, to provide what we think we need , some kind of order, some kind of logic, structure.

 

And when we die we get put in a box of some size, shape or form.  Many think are convinced, that's the way it is, just all these boxes, including this very last one, I mentioned.

 

But, my God, Jesus comes in his self emptying love, trusting fishermen and tax collectors, men and women, rich and poor – all of us who are missing the mark that God intends. And yet in Jesus, God chooses us. To wash us, to give us himself – in order to have us open the boxes, to realize we don't need them, they can't hold us or others, to have us mentally throw them away. In that  we too might know, in the deepest sense that we are loved – by Him, this Word of God!

 

So, see him not only put that towel around his waist. But see him tonight embrace us and the world in His meal. See him tomorrow move onto die. We talk about love, we sing about love, we think we know about love. But, my God, we can only know love as we are loved by Him.

 

Let's not be afraid to love others – whether that's in the washing of feet, or the listening beyond words to tears and pain, to joy and deliverance. Let's stop thinking about others as "other", but begin to realize that we are all united as ones whom Jesus loves.  Having loved his own who were in the world he loved them to the end – not just the end as the terminus of his life – but the end as in the goal of his mission. And what a goal – that the whole world, the cosmos would be loved unconditionally and hopefully by God – so that all can be new. Boxes will be done with! In Him we are One.

 

Listen for his voice in our ears knowing that it emanates from his self emptying love for all – "By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another!"

 

Would it be so among and through us. Amen.

Sick But Trusting?

5^th Sunday in Lent, April 10, 2011. The Gospel is John 11:1-45 (the raising of Lazarus). Secondary text is Ezekiel 37:1-14 (valley of dry bones)

Now a certain man was ill. No kidding. It's one of the understatements of John's Gospel. For only a few verses later we find out that Lazarus is dead. Lazarus may have even been dead when we are introduced to him in verse 1 of chapter 11. Now a certain man was ill.

 

But he wasn't the first man to be ill nor the last. Kevin has been ill from before he was born. He was born with a congenital heart defect. Local doctors told his parents that he might live to be 10 or 12 years old. And unfortunately there was nothing they could really do about his heart defect, except give him the best possible care and the most love available. Which both the doctors and his family did. But Kevin was one of those people that just kept defying the odds. He did most of his schooling at home. Even confirmation was undertaken at home. But his 10^th birthday came and went. His 12^th birthday came and went. In his late 30's he received permission to take his driver's license. What a driver he is. Look out world. He trained himself to be a musician – to play a fiddle, a guitar and to dabble on keyboards. This is all amazing because Kevin's fingers – well the ends of them are at least 50% larger than most people's due to his heart defect. Kevin has played in a number of bands. He is also a ham operator and has made a few CD's that have done Ok commercially. But through all of this Kevin's health was gradually deteriorating. About a year ago now, it was discovered that Kevin may be a suitable candidate for a double lung and heart transplant in Edmonton. There have been about 30 of these done in Western Canada in history. Kevin was faced with a decision. Should he risk his life – to say that the surgery is risky – that the recovery is risky – is an understatement. Or should he maintain the status quo – continue to live as he has for the last now 50 years and suffer from gradual debilitating health until he dies. What would you do?

 

You know we all suffer from degrees of illness. The truth is, we are all sick unto death. I was reminded of this every day when our girls were very young. We lived in the country on a 7 acre parcel of land. On one side of this piece of land was our house. On the other side was the church. But between the house and the church was a grove of trees and then the church cemetery. Spring, summer and fall I would cut across the cemetery to get to the church. And some days our 2 and then 3 year old would hold my hand as we came home at night. One day she asked me, "Does everyone and everything die, Daddy?" What a profound question. And what an earth shattering (to me) answer, "Yes, my princess, everyone and everything dies".

 

Not only that but death can come in many forms – from our hearts stopping, to brain activity ceasing. Nor is death only physical. Death can also claim our emotions, our thoughts, our feelings. Buy into these proverbs and we are being claimed by the power of death: You can't teach an old dog new tricks. What goes around comes around. You only pass through once.  Such proverbial thinking is fatalistic. Such thinking denies the possibility that human beings can be changed, that sometimes, in fact often, there is something called grace where we receive so much more than what we deserve. Do any of us deserve to be born, to be loved, to have friends or to be blessed with a child? 'Tis all grace!

 

Nor does death only speak to us as individuals or as people. Death can come to institutions as they lose their purpose for being. This includes the church as we know it. If we cease to be about loving as Christ has loved and loves – about being honest about ourselves and others – about advocating for those who cannot advocate for themselves, we will certainly die.

 

We also need to know that death comes to empires, to nations. They rise and fall – and sometimes bless and curse. This is true – it is happening in our world as we speak.

 

There was man who was ill. His name, Lazarus. Not only was Lazarus ill. His sickness was unto death. Now Lazarus was blessed to have 2 sisters, Martha and Mary. They are devastated by his death. I suspect that their grief was happening on a number of fronts. The one they loved had died. The one who gave them status and could earn money had died. Much was lost. They have sent word to their friend Jesus. As he approaches Martha runs out to him. She says what many of us think, what many of us want from God – magic, prevention of pain, even of death: "Lord if you had been here, my brother would not have died".

 

If only! But Lazarus had died. He was dead. Jesus tells Martha, "Your brother will rise again." Martha says in effect,  I know – on the last day. But that promise doesn't particularly help her right then. Jesus responds with some amazing things: " I am the resurrection and the life.
Those who believe in me, even though they die will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this, Martha?" She says that she does.

 

But later when they come to the tomb where Lazarus had been for 4 days and Jesus tells people to remove the stone guarding its' entrance Martha isn't so sure. She states the obvious - Lord, he'll stink. Jesus looks at her and again questions, "Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?" So, the stone is removed.  

 

Well, the rest of the story, at least as we have it in the lectionary reads like a fairy tale. Jesus yells at the corpse for Lazarus, come out. Then Lazarus bound and wrapped stumbles out! Jesus says unbind him. Lazarus was dead but is alive. There would have been loud rejoicing for a time.

 

And yet, Lazarus at some time would still die, later, maybe much later on.

 

But even more than that – if we were to read on only a few verses, we see that the opposition to Jesus grows. People are conspiring to kill him – this one who brings new life, who speaks truth, who cares about all people. We have to know that he is killed. Before there can be any Easter, before there can be any new life, we human beings do our worst to this one of God, this human one who is also divine.

 

His claim sometimes slaps us in the face if we actually hear Him. "I am the resurrection and the life." You see for there to be resurrection death in all its forms must be taken into account. This includes our own death and the death of others, our obsession with death, our willingness to watch death and spend more money on death than on life, love and forgiveness.

 

Jesus comes to us in the middle of our lives – where all our struggles, our joys are and asks us – "Will we trust that he is the resurrection and life, here and now?" Are we open to Him filling us with His Spirit, having parts within and around us die, so that there may be new life? This new life is real – and attached to God forever. All else eventually fades, blowing out like a candle in the wind.

 

Whom are we trusting? Amen.   

 

 

Here's To Mud In Your Eye

4^th Sunday in Lent, April 3, 2011; John  9:1-41 (with I Samuel 16:1-13 in b.g)

What a rich story/account. Some preamble before I say what God has given me to say. This is not an account that bashes Jews! Even in this specific account not all of the Jewish people were opposed to Jesus. Lying behind this account is a historical struggle: where did the early Christians many of whom were Jewish people themselves fit within the boundaries of Judaism and the synagogue as they continued to be convinced that Jesus is Lord? Secondly this Gospel account in John's purpose is not to wrestle with the origin of sickness or illness. In this account Jesus certainly does say that many illnesses cannot be directly linked to sin (i.e. people not obeying God, individually or even collectively).

 

Having said all that, what is this Gospel about? So many things! I select only 1 or 2 to hold up for you.

 

Firstly I share 2 vignettes: Peter was in his 70's. He deeply loved his family – his children from his first marriage and his children from his second marriage. As a grandfather, he and his wife provided daycare for many of their grandchildren. And I mean what a daycare. They would pick the children up from school every day as well as often take them to school, since the children's mothers worked. A number of the mothers were single mothers. Peter and his wife, loved their grandchildren deeply.  And those children varying in age from3-15 loved their grandparents. There was an affection within this group that I have rarely seen in my 30 + years as a Pastor.

 

But then one day Peter received BAD NEWS. He hadn't been feeling well.   He had gone to the doctor. A battery of tests had been run. And the results followed the biopsy. Peter had cancer – a large tumour in his abdomen. It didn't look good – at all. In fact the night they called me for prayers, to be with the family – to talk it all over – there were lots of tears. The next day the tumour was to be removed. A course of chemotheraphy was soon thereafter to begin. Can you imagine my surprise when Peter's wife phoned me later that day to tell me that the surgeon couldn't find any traces of the tumour? When Peter and his family in the midst of their rejoicing asked "how this could be?" – the surgeon smiled and shook his head saying that he didn't know how the tumour could "disappear". All he did know was that it had been there and that now it was gone. We all rejoiced. Peter lived another 10 years before he died. How his grandchildren grew over those 10 years.

 

Jan had been a nurse for over 30 years. She had been an amazing nurse and was an amazing person. I had known her for about a year. She was the mother to 2 wonderful adult children and a number of grandchildren who lived in various places around Canada. She and her husband went to see them whenever they could. When I met Jan and her husband they had just retired. Life was good. They were living life to the fullest.  Now Jan hadn't been feeling well for awhile. She went and had some tests. The results were not good. She had contracted ovarian cancer. She underwent many treatments riding a roller coaster of ups and downs for over a year. During that time she procured a video about ovarian cancer. She made presentations to various groups all over BC. She pleased to be able to do this. It mattered so much to her. Around mid October the cancer began to ravage her body in new ways. I would visit with she and her family often. Very often she was gracious and smiling – although struggling mightily. As Christmas neared she told me how much the prayers of her congregation meant to her – the prayers of so many different people. The prayers she said gave her strength and hope – not to live necessarily longer – but to live trusting God, trusting Jesus that nothing could separate her from his love. And she told me, "I have one wish Tim – not to die on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. I don't want my death to be the memory my children, and my grandchildren have of those amazing days." Jan's wish and prayer were granted. She died on December 22.

 

I wonder what you see as you look around? What did you hear and see as I told you a little bit of Peter and Jan's stories?

 

I sometimes wonder if I truly want to see – not only with my eyes, but with my heart: others, the beauty, the wonder, the miracles of life – the struggle, the pain, the brokenness within and around? Do I want to see and hear the cries of joy and pain – the miracle of life, the power of death?

 

In our account from John today a man born blind is healed by Jesus. Oh yes, there was mud and spittle involved – things that according to Jewish religious law weren't supposed to be used on the Sabbath. But my goodness, the man who had been blind could now see! You'd think that the rejoicing by him, by his parents, by his friends and even by those who remotely knew him would have been grand – greater even that the celebration that might happen in Vancouver in about 2 months.

 

But it wasn't! Instead of celebrating the new sight given this man – so many wondered, how/why? Surely THIS SIMPLE TEACHER couldn't have done this, and on the Sabbath? And almost everyone then misses what is happening. That one born blind can now see. Jesus somehow grants him sight!

 

Did you notice  that the man not only can see with his eyes but that he also begins to see so much more? He begins to see Jesus. As this sight gradually grows, becomes focused, the man is humbled and enabled to see others in new ways. He becomes quite humble himself. He comes to trust Jesus. The once blind man, now seeing, falls down and worships Jesus – not I think necessarily as a beggar or as a dog who has been beaten but as one who has been deeply touched by the grace and mercy of God.

 

What do you see and hear these days? Surely we couldn't be blind or deaf could we – not like our fathers or mothers or grandfathers or grandmothers? Surely our vision is clear – our hearing acute?

 

But be careful. Is it possible for a tumour to disappear? If not, why not? Can God, the Creator of the universe do anything? But if that's true, why don't all tumours disappear? My friend Jan came to the point where she could accept her death – not in despair or even in resignation – but in hope and even thankfulness for what had been and what yet would be. She could somehow see Jesus in the midst of her suffering and pain.

 

We gather under a cross. It's not a decorative symbol or even a good luck charm. The cross reminds us of the power of death and empire to attempt and often to succeed in eradicating anyone and anything that dares to proclaim or believe in a different way than might and power dictates. We live in a world that attempts to deny the power of death and even the reality of that which is beyond our sensory perceptions of sight, sound, smell, touch, understanding. And yet, if our eyes are being opened, if our ears can actually hear, if our minds are expansive we can by the grace of God begin to see, to hear and to think in absolutely new ever expanding ways.

 

As Jesus suffers and dies He reaches out to those who were so filled with fear that they had abandoned him or sold him out. As He touches them they are moved beyond their fear to faith, to joy and love for people that once they simply didn't care about. Might that happen among us too?

 

There's still lots of mud and spittle around. We claim that Jesus has risen from the dead. I suspect that Jan and Peter can see him even more clearly now. By God's grace may we too see and worship this one, this very Son of Man. And by God's greatest miracle may we also trust Him with the very living of our lives. Amen.

Not Coors Light

Lent 2a, March 20, 2017 (John 3:1-17)

What do you know? That question used to be a kind of salutation, kind of like, "How are you?" We know, don't we, that when someone asks us how we are while they are passing us on the street or in the hallway that they aren't really interesting in finding out how we are? They are usually just attempting to say, "hi".

 

But I want to ask more. What do you know? I mean, what do you know personally, intimately? Whom can you absolutely put your trust in?

 

It's a hard but very important question. For we human beings there's always a certain amount of uncertainty. Uncertainty in finances: investments, pension plans including Canada and Old Age Pensions. Uncertainty in education. Is what is being taught as "true" today, will still be "true" tomorrow? Uncertainty in health care: will there be enough skilled people, nurses, doctors, x-ray staff, physiotherapists, to care for us and our loved ones, should we or they need such care? Uncertainty in the work force: who will have a job tomorrow and at what wages?

 

For young people the uncertainty races and expands. In some ways young people know "more" than ever before. They scan the net. Many of them read voraciously. They tweet. Some of them have already travelled extensively. I mean I was almost 21 before I travelled by "air". Our children had already been to such places as Halifax, Toronto, Minneapolis, Seattle, and Alaska before they had reached their 15^th birthdays. By their early 20's they had travelled and lived in such places as South East Asia and a variety of places in Europe. And yet, what will the future hold for them: in terms of work, opportunities? What will the "family" look like 50 years from now? There have been times when others have said to me, "I'm sure glad that I'm not growing up now! There's too much uncertainty with absolutely no guarantees." What may be booming today may yet disappear tonight.

 

Nicodemus thought that he knew a lot. In some ways he did. He was a devoutly religious man. He may have "known" the first 5 books of the Law by memory. He would have given a significant percentage of his income to the work of his religion. He prayed. He fasted. He know "lots".

 

But then he heard about Jesus. His curiousity is piqued. He has a hunger that isn't being satisfied. Nicodemus has a yearning, a wonder. So, he comes to Jesus by night. Maybe he doesn't want others to know that he is looking. Or, maybe the darkness of night is John's way of saying that Nicodemus and maybe even some others who will hear this Gospel, don't know as much as they think they do. They may still be in the "dark".

 

Nicodemus begins his conversation with Christ: "Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God." Ah yes, Nicodemus thinks he has Jesus figured out. He attempts to place Jesus in a particular box in his own mind.

 

But Jesus cares about Nicodemus. He won't allow Nicodemus to stay in that place, confined, even entrapped by the limits of his own mind. Jesus responds to Nicodemus directly: "No one can see the kingdom of God without being born form above." And a little later, "No one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit." ... Then lastly, "The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit."

 

Now Nicodemus is moved. He is moved beyond his certainty – beyond the deadly illusion that he has all things, including God, figured out, neatly packaged in the box, the finite space of his mind. Now Nicodemus is being moved to an honest question for Jesus, "How can these things be?"

 

So, what do you know? Sometimes it's tempting to appear to be humble and say, "absolutely nothing." But if that is the case, what have we been doing throughout our life? Haven't we been watching, listening, interacting, even learning? Don't we also feel the wind, rubbing our faces, seeing the leaves blown as the wind whistles over their branches. Don't we see the lakes' waters ripple and become waves whipped by the wind?

 

And what of God? Do we know God? Like Nicodemus we may have heard all kinds of things about God – from our parents, siblings, teachers and television. We may have formed opinions about God – about God's power and might, about God's love and judgment, about God's presence or absence. But do we know God? Do we realize that God doesn't have any grandchildren only children? Are we being born as Christ puts it, from above, by the gifts of God's own Spirit?   Do you experience God's presence in the middle of your life now? Do you trust God with everything you are and have, realizing that somehow, miraculously this all is a gift from God? Or, are we like Nicodemus, thinking we sort of have things figured out, while ignoring our deep hunger within – a desire to not just know about God, but to actually know God? Do we dare ask Jesus ourselves, "HOW CAN THESE THINGS BE?"

 

If we are to be open to Jesus, to actually "following" him we will need to have our own categories redefined, our pet "boxes" about God and ourselves dismantled. The Spirit of God may well blow us into places that we have not dreamed of, possibilities we may have not yet imagined. See Abram and Sara. See Paul.

 

Let me tell you a story – profoundly true. In the early days of the AIDS epidemic, one of NYC's most courageous and tireless workers against the disease was a physician by the name of Joyce Wallace. To help stem the tide of the virus, Dr. Wallace allowed herself to be blown by the wind of the Spirit in new directions: she followed the light of God into dark places, not only treating infected patients but also cruising the West Side of Manhattan in a specially equipped medical van, paying men and women engaged in prostitution $20 to be tested on the spot for AIDS. Though she experienced the scepticism of many of her medical colleagues and the daily disappointments of watching patient after patient die, she refused to be dissuaded from her mission or confined by the conventional definitions of what was possible and impossible.

 

She drew inspiration from her own mother, a teacher of brain injured children. One particularly powerful memory was when her mother had her class stage a production of My Fair Lady, and she gave the lead role to a little girl in a wheelchair. It never occurred to her mother, Dr. Wallace reported, that the audience, so conditioned by life's boundaries of possible and impossible, would weep when the little girl rolled herself across the stage singing, "I could have danced all night"...

 

"If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe", Christ asked Nicodemus, "How can you believe (know?) if I tell you about heavenly things?" Jesus was not moving Nicodemus toward a new theology so much as toward a new life, a new way of wonder, a new way of wonder and worship. The point is not for Nicodemus to replace his old understanding, his so-called "knowing" with a better version of knowledge or knowing about, but to fall on his knees, turning to God for forgiveness, for all his arrogant thinking. Then the Spirit's breeze blows new life into him and through him.

 

There is a place (many places) for thinking seriously about God and life – but always these need to be tempered with humility. All of our thoughts and experiences of God are still only glimpses of the blazing light of God.

 

And what of Nicodemus? We meet him at the end of John's Gospel. Jesus is dead. He has been crucified. Then Nicodemus comes, not seeming to know everything about Jesus, but rather as a disciple, as one who would follow this Light of God. Now Nicodemus does not say, "We know". Rather he doesn't say anything, but comes, bearing spices of worship, praise and hope for this One who has died. The aroma of Nicodemus' offering will be carried by the wind of the Spirit of God, that blows where it will.

 

I wonder: what do we know of God, of ourselves? Will our lives become opened as was the life of Nicodemus, so that the Spirit of God may blow us also where it will?    AMEN.   

 

 

 

 

A Blown Certainty

Lent 2a, March 20, 2011 (John 3:1-17)

What do you know? That question used to be a kind of salutation, kind of like, "How are you?" We know, don't we, that when someone asks us how we are while they are passing us on the street or in the hallway that they aren't really interesting in finding out how we are? They are usually just attempting to say, "hi".

 

But I want to ask more. What do you know? I mean, what do you know personally, intimately? Whom can you absolutely put your trust in?

 

It's a hard but very important question. For we human beings there's always a certain amount of uncertainty. Uncertainty in finances: investments, pension plans including Canada and Old Age Pensions. Uncertainty in education. Is what is being taught as "true" today, will still be "true" tomorrow? Uncertainty in health care: will there be enough skilled people, nurses, doctors, x-ray staff, physiotherapists, to care for us and our loved ones, should we or they need such care? Uncertainty in the work force: who will have a job tomorrow and at what wages?

 

For young people the uncertainty races and expands. In some ways young people know "more" than ever before. They scan the net. Many of them read voraciously. They tweet. Some of them have already travelled extensively. I mean I was almost 21 before I travelled by "air". Our children had already been to such places as Halifax, Toronto, Minneapolis, Seattle, and Alaska before they had reached their 15^th birthdays. By their early 20's they had travelled and lived in such places as South East Asia and a variety of places in Europe. And yet, what will the future hold for them: in terms of work, opportunities? What will the "family" look like 50 years from now? There have been times when others have said to me, "I'm sure glad that I'm not growing up now! There's too much uncertainty with absolutely no guarantees." What may be booming today may yet disappear tonight.

 

Nicodemus thought that he knew a lot. In some ways he did. He was a devoutly religious man. He may have "known" the first 5 books of the Law by memory. He would have given a significant percentage of his income to the work of his religion. He prayed. He fasted. He know "lots".

 

But then he heard about Jesus. His curiousity is piqued. He has a hunger that isn't being satisfied. Nicodemus has a yearning, a wonder. So, he comes to Jesus by night. Maybe he doesn't want others to know that he is looking. Or, maybe the darkness of night is John's way of saying that Nicodemus and maybe even some others who will hear this Gospel, don't know as much as they think they do. They may still be in the "dark".

 

Nicodemus begins his conversation with Christ: "Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God." Ah yes, Nicodemus thinks he has Jesus figured out. He attempts to place Jesus in a particular box in his own mind.

 

But Jesus cares about Nicodemus. He won't allow Nicodemus to stay in that place, confined, even entrapped by the limits of his own mind. Jesus responds to Nicodemus directly: "No one can see the kingdom of God without being born form above." And a little later, "No one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit." ... Then lastly, "The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit."

 

Now Nicodemus is moved. He is moved beyond his certainty – beyond the deadly illusion that he has all things, including God, figured out, neatly packaged in the box, the finite space of his mind. Now Nicodemus is being moved to an honest question for Jesus, "How can these things be?"

 

So, what do you know? Sometimes it's tempting to appear to be humble and say, "absolutely nothing." But if that is the case, what have we been doing throughout our life? Haven't we been watching, listening, interacting, even learning? Don't we also feel the wind, rubbing our faces, seeing the leaves blown as the wind whistles over their branches. Don't we see the lakes' waters ripple and become waves whipped by the wind?

 

And what of God? Do we know God? Like Nicodemus we may have heard all kinds of things about God – from our parents, siblings, teachers and television. We may have formed opinions about God – about God's power and might, about God's love and judgment, about God's presence or absence. But do we know God? Do we realize that God doesn't have any grandchildren only children? Are we being born as Christ puts it, from above, by the gifts of God's own Spirit?   Do you experience God's presence in the middle of your life now? Do you trust God with everything you are and have, realizing that somehow, miraculously this all is a gift from God? Or, are we like Nicodemus, thinking we sort of have things figured out, while ignoring our deep hunger within – a desire to not just know about God, but to actually know God? Do we dare ask Jesus ourselves, "HOW CAN THESE THINGS BE?"

 

If we are to be open to Jesus, to actually "following" him we will need to have our own categories redefined, our pet "boxes" about God and ourselves dismantled. The Spirit of God may well blow us into places that we have not dreamed of, possibilities we may have not yet imagined. See Abram and Sara. See Paul.

 

Let me tell you a story – profoundly true. In the early days of the AIDS epidemic, one of NYC's most courageous and tireless workers against the disease was a physician by the name of Joyce Wallace. To help stem the tide of the virus, Dr. Wallace allowed herself to be blown by the wind of the Spirit in new directions: she followed the light of God into dark places, not only treating infected patients but also cruising the West Side of Manhattan in a specially equipped medical van, paying men and women engaged in prostitution $20 to be tested on the spot for AIDS. Though she experienced the scepticism of many of her medical colleagues and the daily disappointments of watching patient after patient die, she refused to be dissuaded from her mission or confined by the conventional definitions of what was possible and impossible.

 

She drew inspiration from her own mother, a teacher of brain injured children. One particularly powerful memory was when her mother had her class stage a production of My Fair Lady, and she gave the lead role to a little girl in a wheelchair. It never occurred to her mother, Dr. Wallace reported, that the audience, so conditioned by life's boundaries of possible and impossible, would weep when the little girl rolled herself across the stage singing, "I could have danced all night"...

 

"If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe", Christ asked Nicodemus, "How can you believe (know?) if I tell you about heavenly things?" Jesus was not moving Nicodemus toward a new theology so much as toward a new life, a new way of wonder, a new way of wonder and worship. The point is not for Nicodemus to replace his old understanding, his so-called "knowing" with a better version of knowledge or knowing about, but to fall on his knees, turning to God for forgiveness, for all his arrogant thinking. Then the Spirit's breeze blows new life into him and through him.

 

There is a place (many places) for thinking seriously about God and life – but always these need to be tempered with humility. All of our thoughts and experiences of God are still only glimpses of the blazing light of God.

 

And what of Nicodemus? We meet him at the end of John's Gospel. Jesus is dead. He has been crucified. Then Nicodemus comes, not seeming to know everything about Jesus, but rather as a disciple, as one who would follow this Light of God. Now Nicodemus does not say, "We know". Rather he doesn't say anything, but comes, bearing spices of worship, praise and hope for this One who has died. The aroma of Nicodemus' offering will be carried by the wind of the Spirit of God, that blows where it will.

 

I wonder: what do we know of God, of ourselves? Will our lives become opened as was the life of Nicodemus, so that the Spirit of God may blow us also where it will?    AMEN.   

 

 

 

 

Hungry Reflections

March 13, 2011 (Lent 1a, Matthew 4:1-11)

What do you do when you are hungry?

 

What do you do when you are thirsty?

 

Ah, but what do you eat and what do you drink?

 

Jesus was hungry and very likely thirsty. To be sure, these were his own choices. He had been fasting a long time. Fasting is not in vogue these days. But at its best fasting is intended to deny oneself some basic needs in order  to focus on the goodness of God, to ask God to open our hearts and minds to God's presence and to be honest with one's self in doing so. You can be sure that after a significant time of fasting that  Jesus was hungry and thirsty.

 

It's then that the tempter comes to Jesus – and to us. When we are most vulnerable. I don't know about you but when I'm hungry I can be a bear. In my hunger I am less patient, less kind, more demanding, more prone to rage. Similarly when I am tired my behaviour is often less than exemplary. Or when I am particularly singled out for what I have said or done I am more prone to do things that are destructive to myself than when I am experiencing much acceptance. There are many times and circumstances in which I become more vulnerable. How about you?

 

So we meet Jesus. He is hungry and thirsty. At times we are also "hungry" and "thirsty". It is often in those times that the tempter draws near. At first glance, temptations may seem harmless. What could be wrong with satisfying one's hunger? Surely God wouldn't want us to be hungry?  If Jesus had decided to do what the tempter was so seductively inviting him to do – make bread out of stones, a kind of magical thing – who knows how many could have been fed? I am sure that the bread so made could have benefitted many people.  Similarly today in places like Japan,  Libya, many areas of Africa and in many soup kitchens and food banks in  Canada. The tempter's word to Jesus seemed so straight forward. It was either "If you are the Son of God" .... or, "Since you are the Son of God". The tempter's word was a challenge to Jesus' identity – to Jesus' trust of God the Creator. Prove that you are who say you are, the tempter is saying.

 

Thanks be to God that Jesus does resist the tempter. In doing so Jesus points out a fundamental truth – lifted from the Scriptures: one does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God. Wow!  In Jesus' response to the tempter we see that Jesus is very clear about whom he trusts.

 

But the tempter does not give up. Once again the tempter challenges Jesus identity. If you are the Son of God or since you are, throw yourself down from a very high holy place. Surely God will take care of you, since you are God's son! But once again Jesus resists the temptation, the challenge to, in some sense, prove his identity. He responds to the tempter, "Do not tempt the Lord your God!"

 

Once again the tempter is foiled. But he does not give up. He ventures into the political realm.   Wouldn't you like magical power over all the realms and machinations of the world without having to suffer or really do anything for it? If we could magically have such power, what would we have done?

 

But Jesus will not cut a deal. He will not trust anyone else before God regardless of their power. Jesus cuts to the chase, "Away with you Satan, for it is written, 'Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him'."

 

With that the tempter withdraws – but not forever.  

 

In some ways all of this seems surreal – or at the very least long ago and far away. But is it?

 

What are you hungry and thirsty for? What do you yearn and long for? Escape from responsibility? Peace and quiet? A respite from financial worries? Assurance that you will be physically or mentally well? Magical deliverance from any pain or struggle?  Relief from compulsion and compunction to overeat or under eat, to purge or even to seek thrills without any repercussions?

 

An important part of being human is that we have longings, yearnings, sometimes almost an insatiable thirst or hunger. These "drives" may be for many things. They may take on many forms. We are very often  like the old country singer used to twang,  looking for love in all the wrong places. I suspect that lyricist knew something about the reality of temptation.

 

St. Augustine also knew something about temptation.  He said something like this (I paraphrase) – our hearts are restless until they find their rest in thee – meaning in God.

 

God has created us to be in relationship – with God, with others, with creation. This yearning is deeply embedded in our beings. Some might even say that in some mystical way, these yearnings are part of the makeup of our DNA. But too often we think, we feel that we can  control the fulfilment of such yearnings ourselves. Then we take the piece of "fruit".  Overstep-ping our boundaries we place our trust in ourselves or someone or something else, rather than  God. Then instead of loving God  others we seek to love things and use people. We forget whose we are and then lose sight of who we are.

 

I have to tell you it's not  easy to remember whose we are  and to live that way. Even though most of us have had the cross marked on our foreheads for a long time and even though in that moment God promised to seal us with the Holy Spirit forever, there are other spirits at work in this universe. Such spirits are similar to that first tempter who addressed Adam and Eve and then who "seductively invited Jesus" to throw himself down for a kingdom. Such spirits seek to worm their way into our hearts and minds: to deceptively manipulate us into thinking that we are in control when in reality they are seeking to control us. 

 

But beware people, giving into such temptation leads only to momentary "highs" accompanied by long and depressing lows resulting in ultimate emptiness and heartbreak both for us and others.  

 

As human beings we cannot escape temptation. Nor will we will  always be successful in resisting temptation. This is sad but true.

 

But this One who marks us in our baptism with Christ's love and victory over sin, death and evil in the sign of the cross, loves us deeply. This One, this God in the flesh, keeps on seeking us, calling us to remember whose we are, inviting us to follow His Son in obedience.  

 

So I invite you, you who are hungry and thirsty. Be sure to be honest with yourself and with others. Know that there is food which fills, enabling us to be healthy – to love and be loved, to forgive as we are being forgiven, to care with all we have even as Jesus has cared for us by emptying himself. This is the food and the drink that God wills for us. May we eat and drink of these slowly and deeply.  We still will be far from perfect – but in our humility, by God's grace, we will be enabled to live as God's children. Who knows by God's grace some others may even see the face of Christ reflected in our faces.  Amen.