June 10, 2012 sermon - Does The United Church Still Matter?

“I made your name known to the people you gave me. They are from this world. They belonged to you, and you gave them to me. They did what you told them. Now they know that everything you gave me comes from you, because I gave them the message that you gave me. They have accepted this message, and they know for sure that I came from you. They have believed that you sent me. I pray for them. I’m not praying for the world but for those you gave me, because they are yours.  Everything I have is yours, and everything you have is mine. I have been given glory by the people you have given me.  I won’t be in the world much longer, but they are in the world, and I’m coming back to you. Holy Father, keep them safe by the power of your name, the name that you gave me, so that their unity may be like ours.” (John 17:6-11)

     I want to begin this morning by saying that in general terms and in the normal course of things I have a natural aversion to the process known as “navel-gazing.”  I’m sure you know what that means. It means becoming fixated with ourselves and our own problems and issues to the point at which we forget that there’s a whole world out there that probably needs help far more than we do. So I don’t engage in a lot of navel-gazing. It strikes me as largely a waste of time and energy that could be used far more productively. Certain occasions, however, seem to lend themselves to the process of navel-gazing, and it seemed to me that this is one of those occasions. The 87th anniversary of the founding of the United Church of Canada at Mutual Street Arena in Toronto.These are perhaps appropriate times to look back to where we’ve been, to look around at where we are and to look ahead to where we might be going. I’ll be honest - I think the United Church of Canada engages in far too much navel-gazing. We gaze wistfully at the past and we lament the present state of the church and we fear what the future holds - and we do that at all levels of the church. So the General Council repeatedly expresses fears about declining membership, declining donations to the Mission & Service Fund, an aging ministry (never mind an aging laity) which has led to the average age of our ordained ministers now being 54 - which, happily enough I suppose, makes me still a young buck! Presbyteries worry about churches closing - and the biggest concern is usually what to do with the property and money when the congregation is gone! And at the level of the congregation we worry repeatedly about deficits and membership numbers and attendance and not enough young people. Everyone is aware that the church isn’t as strong or as prestigious or as influential as it used to be. We engage in interminable debates about various doctrinal issues that are less than central to our faith and various social issues that have far more to do with culture than with Scripture. Sometimes, I fear, actual ministry gets submerged into a culture of fear and despair that has gripped our denomination and shows no signs of wanting to let go and that threatens to paralyze us, to turn us into a private club with a fortress mentality that seeks only to hang on for as long as we possibly can, and in the midst of doing that we forget the good news of the gospel - that life always goes on in some way or some form; that resurrection is inevitable, and so we need not live in fear but rather we should live in joy; we need not be afraid of risks, we should be risk takers; we need not worry about our own life as a church, but rather we should worry about offering abundant life to those around us with all that we have for as long as we can. So, today - the 87th anniversary of the founding of the United Church of Canada - seems like an opportunity for a bit of navel-gazing. With all the challenges that we face, do we really still matter?

     First, let’s go back to the past. As Methodists and Presbyterians and Congregationalists gathered together for the First General Council in 1925, what were the hopes and what were the dreams? The 1920’s were a time of great hope. World War I - the war to end all wars - was over, peace was the way of the future and the country was in a time of great prosperity. Everything was looking good. We were the first inter-denominational church union in the world. There are a lot now - just a couple of weeks ago the United Protestant Church of France was established. But we were the first - the trail blazers. The church in Canada was influential and big - and the  United Church of Canada would be the biggest and most influential - the largest Protestant church in Canada (a title we still hold, by the way.) The United Church was founded with what was basically a 3-point agenda: to unify Canadian Protestantism, to Christianize Canada, and to proclaim the social gospel as the way of Christ. So, how have we done.

     The quest for unity, I would suggest, is gone. It lived until the early 1970’s, when the United Church almost worked out a deal to merge with the Anglican Church. Now, that would have been a denomination. But that quest for unity faltered. Why? Because there was no unity on certain issues - the place of bishops and the ordination of women were two of the big issues. Our two churches went their separate ways, and at that point, I believe, the dream of Christian - or at least Protestant - unity died. We became a denomination among denominations, in competition with everybody else for a declining audience, so to speak. We’ve become very insular in many ways, erecting ridiculously difficult barriers against things that should be as simple as offering recognition to ministers ordained by Presbyterian, Methodist or Congregational churches around the world and tending to look down our noses at those in less “progressive” denominations, so to speak, who we think are just a bit behind the times. On the Christian unity front, I think we’ve failed.

     We wanted to Christianize Canada. Oh yes, in its early years the United Church believed very strongly in evangelism - which has become a bit of a dirty word now in a lot of United Church circles. We wanted to make sure that Canada was and would continue to be a Christian nation - and that our country would grow more strongly Christian and more firmly based on those elusive "Christian values" that so many speak about but that so few can agree on. It's perhaps that latter point that renders that dream so difficult to actually achieve. We don't entirely agree on what "Christian values" are or what a Christian nation would look like. The sheer grandeur (and difficulty of achieving) such a goal probably rendered that an impossible dream from the start. In any event, it's clear now that Canada is not a Christian society, but a pluralistic society (with people of many faiths and with people of no faith.) But if we've failed in the task of "evangelization" we still have opportunity to bear witness to and to stand for what we believe the Gospel tells us to stand for. So, there are some possibilities for us in that regard. All is not lost!

     And we wanted to promote the "social gospel." This was the unique way in which the United Church tried to "Christianize" Canada. The social gospel has been defined as the application "of  Christian ethics to social problems, especially issues of social justice such as excessive wealth, poverty, alcoholism, crime, racial tensions, slums, bad hygiene, child labour, inadequate labour unions, poor schools, and the danger of war." We've held on to that. "Justice" may be the key word to United Church practice today. I would define our understanding of justice loosely as seeking to offer dignity to all people, regardless of their condition or of whatever differences may separate us. As a national church we do well at that; at the congregational level perhaps less so. That's because at the national level, it's a concept or a theory; at the congregational level the concept or theory has to be put into practice - and it's always easier to talk about something than it is to actually do it. I've noticed over the years, for example, that most United Churches talk a great game about standing with and supporting the marginalized, but then we back away when a marginalized person takes us seriously and shows up in our midst on Sunday morning or at a church social. It's always fascinating to see who's usually left to sit alone at church social events - and it's usually not the lawyer or the doctor or the teacher or the minister; those in the respected and respectable positions in society. It's usually not the happy family with mom, dad and 1.8 kids in tow who are stuck in the corner. It's the "others." To paraphrase Paul - we know what we should do; we just have trouble doing it.

     I think it’s fair to say that we’re not what our founders 87 years ago hoped we would become. Why? What went wrong? Is it our theology or is it how we put our theology into practice? Is the problem with us or is the problem with society? And why do we find the concept of real Christian unity so hard to grasp, even after 87 years as the UNITED Church of Canada? I don’t know that I have answers to those questions. And, truthfully, maybe nothing went wrong. Maybe this is just the way it is. Maybe it’s not even reasonable to expect that the vision of 87 years ago would still be the vision of today. Maybe we have to stop thinking that something went wrong or that something is wrong. Maybe we have to stop throwing our hands up in despair and start thinking about our possibilities. So, back to the original question - which should concern us all - does the United Church still matter? Is there hope for us, or should we just turn out the lights and lock the doors behind us when we leave today, and not bother coming back? There's always hope, of course, because there's always God - and God is a God of hope. And here's the thing: the point of the gospel and of a church that proclaims the gospel is not to be popular - it’s to be relevant, and to be relevant may mean to be unpopular because it means we have something meaningful to say that some people may not like. Let’s think about that.

     A church that actively seeks to break down barriers between people and engages in the ministry of reconciliation between people matters, even if we sometimes don't put that into practice as well as we should. If we do that we matter. A church that actively advocates on behalf of the marginalized in our society matters, because my perception is that our society is becoming a meaner, less compassionate and less caring society - and it's usually the marginalized who end up as the targets in such a society. And, yes - as uncomfortable as it makes many (including probably many here today) a church that advocates in such a way has to sometimes speak politically (although not in a partisan way) and has to both engage those with power and challenge them to act in a way that’s just and that offers justice and dignity to all. If we do that, we matter. A church that continues to proclaim the gospel of Jesus Christ - the life-giving and life-saving good news that God sent into the world (the message of grace and salvation and forgiveness and redemption and eternal life) is a church that’s offering hope. No matter how hard we try, we will never create the Kingdom of God on earth. Only God can do that - and so in spite of our efforts there will always be injustice, there will always be poverty, there will always be violence - and there will always be people who need to be given the hope that these things don't have the last word. Our task is to offer the hope of Christ and to hold up (as the prophets of old did) a vision of the world God wants, even if it seems far away. A church that makes God's word the last word and the only word is a church that matters. If we do that, we matter.

     We've changed in 87 years. We aren't what we were and we never will be what we were again. We aren't as large or as powerful or as rich or as influential as we used to be and we probably never will be again. But sometimes those things that we so often use as symbols of success are the very things that draw us away from the gospel and the pursuit of them blinds us to our true mission. Maybe being pushed to the margins of society (which is the reality of today) rather than existing at the centre of society (which was our founders’ hope) will be good for us. Maybe it's on the margins, in fact (offering hope to those who inhabit the margins with us) that we matter the most! So I would say - don't despair! Today’s question is "Does The United Church Still Matter?" The answer is - Yes. The United Church still matters. And so do we all!

June 3, 2012 sermon - Love Built In = Love Poured Out

Those who live according to the sinful nature have their minds set on what that nature desires; but those who live in accordance with the Spirit have their minds set on what the Spirit desires. The mind of sinful man is death, but the mind controlled by the Spirit is life and peace; the sinful mind is hostile to God. It does not submit to God’s law, nor can it do so. Those controlled by the sinful nature cannot please God. You, however, are controlled not by the sinful nature but by the Spirit, if the Spirit of God lives in you. And anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ, he does not belong to Christ. But if Christ is in you, your body is dead because of sin, yet your spirit is alive because of righteousness. And if the Spirit of Him Who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, He Who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through His Spirit, Who lives in you. (Romans 8:5-11)

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

     I’m going to make a guess that there are a lot of people in church today - not just here, but everywhere - who have come to church totally unaware that today on the church’s calendar is called “Trinity Sunday” - which is always the Sunday after Pentecost. As the name suggests, today is a day to mark that one doctrine in particular that marks Christianity as unique among the world’s faiths - a trinitarian God, Who exists as (according to the traditional language) one God in three persons. Since that is unique to Christianity, I suppose it’s worthy of having a Sunday set aside for its celebration, and yet the truth is that a lot of people, a lot of churches and a lot of clergy won’t touch it with a ten foot pole. I rarely dedicate a service or a even a sermon just to the trinity. Partly because I think the trinitarian nature of God is just something that flows through most of what I preach anyway; partly because the doctrine, if we go too far into it, is truly and completely baffling. It’s so baffling that I recently came across these words from David Lose, who teaches at Luther Theological Seminary in St. Paul, Minnesota: “Here’s my rule of thumb regarding the Trinity: People who say they understand it aren’t to be trusted. Which means, I think, that trying to explain the Trinity in a sermon is a really, really bad idea.” Fair enough, I suppose. The doctrine of the Trinity is baffling. It’s led to a lot of debates, divisions and conflicts over the centuries. There are those who believe that the Islamic faith exists today because Mohammed was exposed to early Christianity, kind of liked some of the beliefs, but fundamentally misunderstood the Trinity, believing that Christians were worshipping three gods - Allah, Jesus and Mary - instead of one God revealed in three different ways. So the Trinity is difficult to understand. There are all sorts of analogies that supposedly try to help us - H2O can be water, ice or steam (but they can’t be all at the same time.) An ancient formula talked about the Trinity as being like the sun in the sky - the actual sun, the light that shines from it and the heat we feel from it. (I like that one because all three depend on each other; you can’t have one without the other two.) An analogy I sometimes use is to compare the Trinity to a man who is at one and the same time a father, a husband and a son (one man in three distinct persons, but with the three persons always intersecting.) But in general I agree with David Lose. It’s impossible to truly understand the Trinity. Analogies help, but they’re never perfect. So, why bother with Trinity Sunday then?

     Not that God needs a defence, but I suppose that foundational doctrines that guide us in what we believe do sometimes need a defence. I don’t want to get bogged down in doctrine. I think doctrine is important, but sermons aren’t the best times to get overly doctrinal. Still, I suspect some of you have probably heard that the doctrine of the Trinity is unbiblical; that it never appears in the Bible. If you’ve heard that, it’s not entirely true. In Matthew 28:19 Jesus says that we should go and baptize “in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.” Some say that was put on the lips of Jesus by an early church that was developing the doctrine and wanted to justify it. But it’s there, so you can’t say it’s unbiblical. But I think there are stirrings of trinitarian language in the Bible long before that was written. When I want to consider the earliest Christian thoughts, I always turn to Paul, because most of his letters were written before any of the Gospels were written, and I have always found myself intrigued by today’s passage - not because of its emphasis on the sinful nature but because of the way Paul speaks of God. He doesn’t say anything explicit about the Trinity as we speak of it. There’s no “Father, Son and Holy Spirit,” but there are those first stirrings I mentioned. Paul here uses the terms “Spirit of God” and “Spirit of Christ” basically interchangeably and he says that “Christ is in [us]” and that “the  Spirit of God lives in [us].” To me that’s trinitarian. Paul is already struggling (even if unconsciously) to come up with a way to speak of this God revealed in three different ways. So I believe the concept of the Trinity is biblical, and therefore it’s good doctrine grounded in Scripture. And that’s all I want to say about doctrine because David Lose says you can’t trust me if I claim to understand the Trinity, and I want you to trust me, and I don’t understand it fully, anyway! What I want to concentrate on isn’t the doctrine of the Trinity, but why it’s important to us. What difference does it make? How does it affect our lives? In this sense, I think it’s very important. If the crucifixion and resurrection are the heart of the good news, the Trinity may be the soul of the good news.

     That’s enough doctrine. Suffice to say that I believe God is Father, Son and Holy Spirit. I actually want to talk about another “God is” phrase - and this one’s definitely in the Bible, found in 1 John 4:16, where we’re told that “God is love.” I want to talk about that on Trinity Sunday because I believe it’s relevant to that idea. I don’t believe that “love” is another “person” of the godhead; I believe that love is the very essence of God, and because of that the Trinity is important. To say that “God is love” is a very bold statement. Martin Luther King, Jr. once said that “only ‘God’ and ‘love’ are joined by ‘is.’” In other words, the boldness of the statement comes from the fact that it can be said of no one or nothing except God. To say anything about God with such certainty is bold - but I believe it’s true. “God is love.” God is also eternal; God has always existed. There has never been a time or place in which God has not been present. Before anything else existed, God existed; everything that exists finds its origin in God. If God is eternal, then God has always been “Father, Son and Holy Spirit” and God has also always been “love.” There is no other way for a Christian to understand God’s nature.

     If, indeed “God is love,” then I invite you to think about this with me. Love by its very nature needs an object. Love needs someone or something to love. An eternal God existed before anything else existed, and yet God was still love, even when there was nothing but God, so God’s love must have had an object; there must have been some way for God to be in relationship, even though there was nothing except God. Even if we can’t understand it perfectly, the idea of the trinity was perhaps a way for early Christians to establish that God is perfectly self-sufficient in all things. God needs nothing. God doesn't even need an external object for divine love, because God is love, even in the absence of anything else. If God is love - then love is simply a part of God's being or nature. Love is perfectly expressed internally for God - not in a narcissistic, selfish way but in a healthy way in which God sustains and nurtures God's self even absent anything or anyone else. God cannot simply be one - because then there would be no object for God's love before God created; there would be no relationship possible. So relationship is foundational to the Trinity, and it’s therefore built into the godhead. The trinity is a Christian way of expressing that God is always by God's very nature expressing love outwardly. God's love is being extended and not reserved. So, “God is love” refers to an inner divine quality that necessitates relationship being a natural characteristic of God. That means that since love must be expressed outwardly and extended, God is self-sufficient. This can happen even if God has created nothing else. Speaking of Father, Son and Holy Spirit is a way to say that there is a healthy and outwardly expressed love that’s just a part of God. God doesn’t have to create anything to express love to, because “God is love” - and the Trinity helps establish that. But while God doesn’t have to create, God does create - and God creates prolifically! This leads to the second important thing we can say about the mystery of divine love contained within the Trinity.

     It’s perfectly legitimate and totally biblical to say that “God is love,” but love is more than just a characteristic of God. It’s not just internal - it's active. Love may be perfectly expressed within the godhead, but from God love is also outpoured. That’s why I said a moment ago that God’s love is never just narcissistic. It’s never just a self-consumed love that blots everything else out. Narcissus, of course (in Greek mythology) was the man who fell in love with himself looking at his own reflection in a pool of water. So consumed he was by love for his own reflection that he could never leave it, and he died by the side of the water. This is not God. That’s what I mean when I say that God is not narcissistic. In fact, God is so not-narcissistic that “God so loved the world.” God loves that which God creates. It’s important to understand that God does not “need” that which God creates, because love can be satisfactorily expressed within the divine nature, but God “wants” that which God creates - which includes you and me! A former Moderator of the United Church once said that “God needs us.” No, God doesn’t. I do not meet a need of God. God did not have to create me. God created me just because God wanted to; just because God chose to. And I can say the same thing about all of you. To be wanted rather than to be needed makes me (and you) very, very precious. If God needed us for any reason (even if God needed us simply to have an object to express love to) then our relationship with God would be strictly utilitarian. It would be mutually beneficial, but it wouldn’t be real love. We would exist only because God had no choice but to create us. But the concept of the Trinity tells us that God has no need for us. God just wants us. God just wants to love us. That's an incredible statement about God when you think about it. And it's good news! God is love and God really - REALLY!- loves us!     

     To me, that’s what’s so important about the Trinity. That’s why I take it so seriously as a part of my faith. It’s the absolute proof of God’s love for me and for all the world. I don’t really worry too much about understanding the technical aspects of the doctrine. David Lose is probably right - you shouldn’t trust anyone who claims to understand it, anyway. But you don’t have to understand it, because it’s part of the foundation of divine love - and since when was love ever understandable or rational? Just accept from the concept of the Trinity what’s really important about it. It’s a sign of and a witness to divine love - a love offered to you and to me!

May 27, 2012 sermon - The Sounds Of The Spirit

We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently. In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will. (Romans 8:22-27)

     “Sound is a mechanical wave that is an oscillation of pressure transmitted through a solid, liquid, or gas, composed of frequencies within the range of hearing and of a level sufficiently strong to be heard, or the sensation stimulated in organs of hearing by such vibrations.” So there you have it. Technically correct, but … I don’t really think that definition quite captures what we mean by sound. Sure, I understand that there’s a physical component to sound that can be captured in that type of technical language. But it still isn’t sound. It’s like describing a dog as a four legged animal. That doesn’t capture the feeling you have for the dog! And like dogs, sounds are about the feelings that they produce in you. Some of them are pleasant. Depending on your musical tastes, you might be moved by listening to a Bach concerto or the punk rock group “The Devil Dogs.” But whatever your tastes run to, either can be a moving experience. We listen to birds singing in the morning. Last weekend in Buckhorn, I listened to the call of loons across the lake at night as well as to the crackling of a bonfire and the laughter and chatter of children. All of which were wonderful. But then there’s also the sound of the construction that starts next door bang on 8 o’clock in the morning on the day you expected to sleep in, or the screeching of tires that makes you flinch at what might follow, or the wailing of a siren that startles you, or the wonderful sound of fingernails on a chalk board - a sound that makes me shiver a bit just to think about it! Sounds touch us both physically and emotionally, no matter how old or young we are. Sounds mean something. A little girl named Shaina wrote this poem in Grade 2:

Have you seen the sound of dark, mean thunder?

Or maybe the sound of solid, crystal wind.

Have you seen the sound of beautiful, sweet voices?

Or maybe the sound of leaves, carefully falling to the ground.

Have you seen the sounds?

If you haven't, 

This is what they look like.

If you look close to where the sounds are coming from

Little tiny, diamond - shaped crystals float away from the sound.

They look beautiful in the dark sky,

Rolling away from you.

Down the hill

They become...

Invisible.

     Shaina captures the idea of sound so much better than that technical definition I offered to open - wouldn’t you agree? Let me ask you: have you ever seensound? Maybe I have. I’m not sure. But I’ve experienced sound, and right from the beginning of creation, God understood just how important sounds were going to be, which is surely why we’re told in the Creation story that God created with the sound of a divine voice that spoke everything into being. Sound was around before we were around. And God still speaks. We believe that. Our sister denomination in the United States - the United Church of Christ - launched an ad campaign a few years ago using as the tagline the words “God is still speaking …” And that’s true. God is most certainly still speaking. - speaking tous and speaking throughus. But do we listen? Do we hear? That’s one reason I wanted to use the You Tube video for the reading of the Pentecost story. It gives a different sound to the reading than someone standing and reciting at a lectern; it reminds us of the power and drama and excitement of Pentecost - the coming of the Holy Spirit. Maybe it reminds us to listen - because two thousand years later God isstill speaking. The question, indeed, is whether we’re listening!

     Maybe we don’t hear because we don’t know what to expect. What would God’s voice sound like anyway? The ancient Hebrews were terrified by the sound of God’s voice at Mt. Sinai and begged never to hear it again! I remember an episode of the old TV series “WKRP in Cincinnati.” Dr. Johnny Fever thought that he had heard the voice of God telling him to give up his gig as a radio disc jockey and instead become a golf pro. He talked to Mr. Carlson about the experience, because Mr. Carlson was one of the few people he knew who went to church. Mr. Carlson told him that God probably hadn’t said that because “if God wanted to speak to you you’d know what He said!” I don’t think so. Mr. Carlson was wrong. Many of us spend much of our lives working on discernment - trying to discern just what exactly it is that God is saying to us. It isn’talways that clear. Or there’s the story of Elijah, who expected to hear the voice of God in an earthquake or in a mighty fire, but who was surprised to discover that God’s voice didn’t speak through either of those mighty and terrifying events but only revealed itself through a gentle, quiet whisper. How easy it is to drown out an gentle, quiet whisper? How easy it is to let other sounds drown out the sound of God?

     Two weeks ago I became interested in God’s voice - or in the sounds of the Spirit, if you will. If you recall, I preached on the story of Hannah - poor, tormented Hannah, abused and bullied, with nowhere to turn, who went into the temple and in great torment prayed her heart out - except that the sound was one of complete silence. I wonder if that wasn’t actually the Spirit of God speaking through her? We have enough evidence in Scripture to justify the belief that maybe the times when we have no words are the times when the Spirit is speaking most powerfully! Hannah prayed in silence, her lips moving but no sounds emerging, only to be accused of being pitifully drunk. But I wonder if the sound of silence wasn’t exactly the sound of the Holy Spirit, Who knew that at that moment and in those circumstances, what Hannah needed most was quiet respite? I wonder if just sitting and praying and moving your lips but making no sound isn’t a way of inviting the Holy Spirit to give you the peace and comfort you so desperately need? If you remember it worked for Hannah. Her spirits were immediately lifted. Silence isa golden sound sometimes. Quakers worship in silence. Did you know that. They gather together and they sit. No music. No singing. No sermon. No prayers. They sit. And they listen in the silence for the sound of God’s voice. And the silence is only broken if someone believes they’ve heard the sound of God’s voice and they want to share what they’ve heard. And sometimes the silence is never broken, and there’s just a moment when everyone understands that worship is over - and they leave, refreshed by the experience of listening. We, on the other hand, get uncomfortable with 30 seconds of silent prayer in the middle of an otherwise very verbal worship service. The Spirit speaks and the Spirit comforts in silence.

     It wasn’t silent, though, on Pentecost. There was a sound like the rushing of a violent wind. You know what that sounds like. We have wonderful wind storms here in Port Colborne sometimes, don’t we. Do you ever listen to the wind howling and wonder what you’re going to discover when it’s over? The one thing we know is that something will be changed. Trees might be uprooted, shingles might be blown off your roof. It can be frightening and destructive. It can also be creative and beautiful. The desert is an ever changing landscape of sand dunes sculpted by the wind that blows uncontrollably across it. When the Spirit sounds like wind, we’re being changed; the Spirit is getting our attention. That’s the work of transformation from what we are into what God wants us to be. It’s not an easy process. It’s not necessarily painless - emotionally or physically. Unlike the sound of silence, it’s not comforting; it can actually be shattering - at least at first. When the Spirit comes like the rushing of a violent wind we don’t know what to expect. We just wait to survey the landscape once the Spirit stops speaking!

     On Pentecost, the sound of the Spirit was also the sound of the disciples of Jesus suddenly breaking into the sounds of languages from around the Empire, even though they hadn’t learned the languages! What do we make of that? How is it even possible? How can you speak a language you don’t know? I don’t know of anyone who’s actually been able to explain this in a satisfactory way. The story stands there - unexplained, mysterious, amazing to all who heard it and bewildering to those of us who read it centuries later. And again, the same words that were expressed to Hannah in the temple - “they’re drunk.” But somehow, what was happening to those who listened, was that barriers were being broken down. Language and race and nationality didn’t matter anymore. The gospel was there for everyone; Christ had come for the world; His disciples had come with a message to all humanity. There could be - or at least there should be - no place for any feelings of superiority in the thinking of a Christian; the Kingdom of God was for all and was to be denied to none. Parthians and Medes and Elamites; Jews and Greeks and Romans; people from all parts of the Empire welcome to hear and be touched by the word of God. Canadians and Americans and Iraqis and Afghans. Europeans and Asians and Africans; people from all parts of the world welcome to hear and be touched by the word of God. Available to all; withheld from none.

     And then Paul says, in today’s reading from Romans, that “we do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.” Paul is probably talking here about that mysterious phenomenon most commonly associated with Pentecostal churches called “the gift of tongues.” But it’s not only for Pentecostals. I know United Church folk (good, solid, respectable United Church folk) who speak in tongues. Many people call it a personal prayer language. It sounds like babble; it makes no sense; it’s not a language - as we know it, anyway. It’s - well - sounds. Sounds that come deep from within and yet also far from above - the “groans” of the Spirit, reaching out to us when we just don’t know how or what to pray. Have you ever been in that situation? You know you should pray; you know you have things to pray for; but you just can’t find the words. Those are the situations Paul is talking about. Be open to the Holy Spirit and let the Holy Spirit speak through you. It doesn’t matter if you understand the sounds. It doesn’t matter if anyone else understands the sounds. It doesn’t even matter if someone looks at you and says that you’re drunk or crazy. They said the same things about Hannah and the disciples of Jesus. It doesn’t matter, because at that moment you’re communing with God. The Holy Spirit is interceding for you “with groans that words cannot express.” God never leaves us helpless. God even helps us to pray!

     Sounds are all around us. They fill our lives. If they’re not there - we notice it! But there’s one sound above all others that we need to listen for and hear and experience and be touched by. The sound of God’s Spirit, speaking tous and speaking throughus, pointing us and others to the Christ Who loves us and gave Himself for us.

May 13, 2012 sermon - "The Joy Of Unexpected Answers"

Once when they had finished eating and drinking in Shiloh, Hannah stood up. Now Eli the priest was sitting on a chair by the doorpost of the Lord's temple. In bitterness of soul Hannah wept much and prayed to the Lord. And she made a vow, saying, "O Lord Almighty, if You will only look upon Your servants's misery and remember me, and not forget Your servant but give her a son, then I will give him to the Lord for all the days of his life, and no razor will ever be used on his head." As she kept on praying to the Lord, Eli observed her mouth. Hannah was praying in her heart, and her lips were moving but her voice was not heard. Eli thought she was drunk and said to her, "How long will you keep on getting drunk? Get rid of your wine." "Not so, my Lord," Hannah replied. "I am a woman who is deeply troubled. I have not been drinking wine or beer; I was pouring out my soul to the Lord. Do not take your servant for a wicked woman; I have been praying here out of my great anguish and grief." Eli answered, "Go in peace, and may the God of Israel grant you what you have asked of Him." She said, "May your servant find favour in your eyes." Then she went her way and ate something, and her face was no longer downcast. Early the next morning they arose and worshiped before the Lord and then went back to their home at Ramah. Elkanah lay with Hannah his wife, and the Lord remembered her. So in the course of time Hannah conceived and gave birth to a son. She named him Samuel, saying, "Because I asked the Lord for him." (1 Samuel 1:9-20)

     This passage is not really about Hannah praying for a son! That was one of the first things that occurred to me when I started to take a close look at this passage. I had it in my mind that this was the point of the passage, and I originally chose this passage for Mother's Day, because – well – Hannah prayed to be a mother and I thought there would be all sorts of heartwarming content and reflections about motherhood in the passage. And then I read it again – and believe me, I wasn't reading it for the first time. I thought I was pretty familiar with this passage. I've read it a lot. We chose this name (“Hannah”) for our daughter – connecting us forever with this woman, because she's the only Hannah in the Bible. As long ago as November 13, 1994 I preached on this passage at the United Churches in South Brook, Hampden and Sop's Arm, Newfoundland. I re-read that sermon a few days ago and, sure enough, although the subject matter was about something else, the sermon seems to presume that the passage is all about Hannah being desperate to have a child. And this past week I discovered that I was wrong. Hannah's prayer in this passage wasn't really for a son. Yes, she asked God to “not forget Your servant but give her a son,” but that isn't really what she's praying for. That's the surface issue. That's the presenting condition, you might say. But to get to the real issue, you have to start to peel back some layers in Hannah's life and when you do that you discover that there's more going on here than simply a woman who wants to have a child. So the first lesson I learned this past week is that even after more than 2000 years and even when you think you've read and studied and preached on a passage long enough to now what it's about, Scripture can still surprise you when you take the time to really work with it! This is a living word that's always at work revealing fresh insights for modern people, not a dead word that just records the events and reflections of the ancients. So, if, in spite of her words, Hannah's not really praying for a son, then what is Hannah praying for and what does her prayer teach us? I've often felt that you learn a lot about people by hearing them pray. You learn their hopes and their dreams; you learn their fears and their disappointments. When we stand before God we can't hide. Things come out. Our souls are bared.

     To peel back the layers of Hannah's life and get to the root cause of her anguish and then take a fresh look at her prayer  we need to know a little more about this woman named Hannah and what her life was like. Hannah was one of two wives of a man named Elkanah. The other wife was Penninah. Penninah had children and Hannah didn't, but interestingly enough the story seems to suggest that it was Penninah who was jealous of Hannah. You see, Penninah may have had the children, but Hannah was the one who really held Elkanah's heart; she was the one he loved more. And because Penninah was jealous, she held the one thing over Hannah that she had - Penninah was cruel to Hannah because (in a society in which having children was seen as the ultimate sign of God's blessing) she had children and Hannah didn't, and so she spent her time rubbing Hannah's nose in that fact, so to speak. The way the story is written (and you have to read the verses right before what we read this morning to see this) I don't get the sense that Hannah was jealous of Penninah. She was simply tormented by her rival. The constant putdowns (in spite of Elkanah's efforts to make Hannah aware of how much he loved her) caused her to question her own worth and her own value. Her life started to seem meaningless. More than that, her life beame a torture because of the hell Penninah was putting her through. It's similar to a child being bullied. No matter how much your parents tell you that they love you, the constant putdowns hurt and eventually they kill the spirit. Finally, in her pain, Hannah turns to God. Here's where the learning begins for those of us who read the story many centuries after the fact.

     When in trouble or distress, turn to God. In fact when we're really in trouble and really in distress, where else is it that we can turn but to God if we want to have real hope of moving on. I think here of Jesus, who many years later said to His disciples, “Come to Me all you who are tired and heavy burdened, and I will give you rest.” It's only God – revealed to us by Jesus – who can take the loads or lighten our burdens or at least strengthen us enough that we'll be able to carry them ourselves. No one else can do that. Nothing else can do that. Only God. Hannah seemed to understand that. She was tormented and in grief, but rather than turning away from God, as so many are tempted to do in dark times she turned toward God. She didn't give up on God. She had faith – she turned to God in spite of the temptation to believe that God had let her down and didn't care.

     Faith she may have had, but the story suggests that this was no pious prayer. “In bitterness of soul Hannah wept much and prayed to the Lord.” She prayed from deep within her soul. Strangely enough and wonderfully enough, the passage once again surprised me. I may be quite familiar with this passage but for the first time as I read it I was reminded of the story of Pentecost. The Book of Acts tells us that on Pentecost the people thought the disciples of Jesus were drunk because they were speaking in tongues, and in this passage Eli the priest thinks that Hannah is drunk because he can't understand what she's saying. I wonder: when we come to God “in bitterness of soul” or in great anguish or – at the opposite extreme – in heights of joy and immeasurable bliss (when our prayers are passionate and from the heart rather than mere dutiful words directed heavenward) - is there something so wonderful about being "in the spirit" in that way (being so totally focused on prayer and on one's relationship with God) that others simply can't understand it or make sense of it and so they immediately dismiss it as unreal? But what we see here is that Hannah's words weren't important - in fact, the text suggests that she may not even have been speaking. So prayer is not about pious outward religious observance; prayer is about quietly but passionately opening ourselves to God and letting God fill us. And she wasn't embarrassed to be praying this way and she wasn't going to apologize for it. “Eli thought she was drunk and said to her, 'How long will you keep on getting drunk? Get rid of your wine.' 'Not so, my Lord,' Hannah replied. 'I am a woman who is deeply troubled. I have not been drinking wine or beer; I was pouring out my soul to the Lord. Do not take your servant for a wicked woman; I have been praying here out of my great anguish and grief.'” She defended herself, just as the apostles in Acts insisted to the poeple “we are not drunk as you suppose.” She was talking to God – and no one and nothing was going to get in the way!

     And the result was that her burden was lifted from her. “Then she went her way and ate something, and her face was no longer downcast. Early the next morning they arose and worshiped before the Lord ...” She was no longer downcast and no longer feeling tormented. - she could stand before God no longer in anguish, but to worship; to offer praise and thanksgiving. Her prayers were no longer mere petitions; they had become expressions of joy and gratitude – not because her prayer had been answered (because Samuel hadn't been born yet) but because her burden had been lifted. God saw the problem far more clearly than she did – and far more clearly than I have for many years. Hannah's problem wasn't that she didn't have a son; Hannah's problem was that she had been put down so much because she didn't have a son that she felt worthless. Hannah needed that burden lifted from her. That's the answer to her prayer. Yes, she eventually had a son, but that came later. What mattered was that she realized that in all her torment God was still with her and had always been with her. It was several hundred years before Jesus would be born, but Hannah would have understood His words - “Come to Me all you who are tired and heavy burdened, and I will give you rest,” because she had experienced their power. She came to God tired and heavy burdened and she went away rested and refreshed.

     All this happened before Hannah even had a son! Her prayers were answered - but not in the way she expected, because neither she nor we saw through to the real issue – at least not right away. Hannah didn't need a son. The birth of Samuel is almost secondary to the story (it's important only because of who Samuel became.) Samuel was a blessing. Let's not mistake that. Not everyone is called to parenthood, but for all those who are called to parenthood, a child is a blessing. We know that. But what Hannah needed wasn't a child, she needed peace in her troubled soul. The real meat of the story is that prayer allowed her to give up her burden and it strengthened her to go back to her home to deal once again with Penninah. She had no promise of a son; she had simply - through prayer - experienced the empowering presence of God - enough to see her through. Everything else was a bonus! Sometimes we find ourselves like Hannah – troubled and burdened and in torment. Hopefully, when those times come, we'll follow Hannah's example and we won't turn away from God; instead, we'll turn toward God in prayer. Hopefully, from time to time, our prayers will burst forth in praise and thanksgiving and gratitude. Hopefully, ultimately, our times of prayer will leave us grateful for what we have rather than grasping for what we're lacking. Hopefully.

May 6, 2012 sermon - "The Choice: CON-formed Or TRANS-formed"

"Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God - this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will." (Romans 12:1-2)

     For the last couple of weeks, I've been speaking about "life." More specifically, I've been speakng about life as God wants us to live it. A life freed from the things that enslave us and hold us in their bondage. A life in which we're lifted out of the troubles around us and freed to live abundantly as children of God who neither worry about nor fear the future, because we know that God is with us. I want to continue on with that general theme this week, continuing to look at how to truly live life as God wants us to live it. I don't think we should be satisfied with simply waking up every day and having just another day just like all the other days we've had. I don't think we should be satisfied with things the way they are and simply resigned to the idea that things can never be any different. I don't think we should be satisfied with just being followers of Jesus - I think we need to live as disciples of Jesus. To follow is a rather passive activity, but to be a disciple is more active, snd suggests that we're learning from what we're seeing as we follow Jesus, and that we're going to put into practice what we believe Jesus wants of us. That would be a wonderful, blessed and abundant life - but in all honesty it also wouldn't be an easy life. As I searched the Scriptures for an image that I thought might bring forth into our minds what this type of life might be, I was drawn to Paul's description of a disciple of Jesus as a "living sacrifice." There's a lot of imagery connected with those words - some of it challenging, some of it troubling, some of it promising - all of it helpful as we try to discern what it is God seeks from us and the kind of life God calls us to.

          The whole concept of a "living sacrifice" seems to be a contradiction. Perhaps that's not surprising. Paradox is a big thing in the life and ministry of Jesus after all. He tends to turn things upside down; He tends to surprise; people were constantly amazed that He didn't do things the way others did them or the way they expected Him to. But I still find myself struggling with this a bit. A "living sacrifice." "Living." "Living?" In my mind I have to work with that image. Sacrifices are dead! I can't read those words without my mind immediately going back to the Old Testament and the complex system of animal sacrifices that the people of Israel lived with and depended on. Those animals were killed. But, of course, that's only partially true, isn't it? The sacrifice has to be alive until it's actually sacrificed. A dead sacrifice would be meaningless. Nobody ever sacrificed a dead goat or a dead bull in ancient Israel. They needed a live one. So maybe there isn't as much of a paradox there as I thought there was. If we are "sacrifices" of any sort, then surely we have to be "living sacrifices" because if we're not living we're not of much practical use to God. Of course, the biggest difference is that the implication of Paul's words would seem to be that as a "living sacrifice" we'll continue living. The old sacrifices of the old covenant didn't. They died. It was part of the required mechanism for the forgiveness of sin, which isn't necessary any more, of course. Christ did away with that. So "sacrifice" today means something completely different. So, perhaps the issue isn't the tension between the words "living" and "sacrifices." The issue, perhaps, is what kind of sacrifice we are. What does it mean to say that our bodies are “living sacrifices?”  What is the sacrifice of our bodies meant to accomplish? Even more basic - how do we sacrifice our bodies?

     The more I think about what Paul wrote, the more I realize that maybe he means nothing more than that we should be offering ourselves to God by not offering ourselves to the world. A sacrifice is also called an offering. We offer something to God for God's use. We're called to offer the best we have for God's use; the most precious thing we have for the service of God. What's more precious than our very selves? It's easy to sacrifice a bit of money or time or effort. Those sacrifices aren't unimportant. But they only point us to what we're really called to – which is to sacrifice ourselves. Giving something that belongs to us is the symbolic reminder that we're really called to give ourselves; our very being; the best of what makes us who and what we are. Maybe this is about making us what we should be by changing the whole way in which we view life. Maybe this is about formation. God asks us to be “living sacrifices” to remind us that the “things” we sacrifice aren't enough to enable us to enjoy a full and abundantly rich life as a child of God. To do that, we have to give “everything” - as Jesus said to the rich young man who came to Him saying that he had given and done everything God had asked for but still needed to know what he needed to do to have eternal life. You have to give “everything” Jesus said. In essence, He said, “you have to give yourself.” I don't believe Jesus was speaking of martyrdom, and I'm certainly not talking about martyrdom. I'm talking about understanding that everything – up to and including our very lives – belong to God and need to be available for God's service and for God's work. And as much trouble as I might have had at first coming to grips with the seeming paradox of being a “living sacrifice,” Paul actually goes on to explain what he's talking about in very simple terms.

     “Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” There's the choice for those who truly want to be disciples of Jesus. You have to be willing to stand out. It isn't a matter of pride. It's not about saying “look at me.” It's not about showing others how good we are or how religious we are. It's about pointing others to God by the simple way in which we live - freed from all those things that others still struggle with and are still held captive by. This choice is how we start to understand what Paul meant by calling us “living sacrifices.” To be conformed is no sacrifice at all. To be conformed is to live as people expect us to live. This means not standing out, accepting the status quo, not making waves. This is passive. It requires no effort; it asks little of us. But to be transformed is different. To be transformed is active. It's perhaps even radical. We're being made into something different; we're running the risk of standing out and being noticed, with all the risks and dangers that implies. If we allow ourselves to be transformed, we may change the world - or at least our little part of it. If we settle for being conformed, then we guarantee that nothing will ever change.

     "Sometimes it's safer to fly under the radar" is an old saying. To CON-form is to do that; to hide our presence; to blend in; to be unchallenging and unchallenged. To TRANS-form is to be gloriously above the radar for all to see. If we're transformed, then there will be no mistaking that we're there; no mistaking who we are and no mistaking whose we are. This means we will both challenge and be challenged! If nobody notices you, you'll probably stay quite safe and secure – but at the risk of the life God wants you to live. If you stand out, then you are automatically “living sacrifices,” because to live a transformed life is an inherently risky and costly business! But it's God's call upon all our lives – and it's the only way to live life as God wants us to live it – freely and richly and abundantly and truly in the service of others!

April 29 2012 sermon - An Abundance Of Abundance

Therefore Jesus said again, "I tell you the truth, I am the gate for the sheep. All who ever came before me were thieves and robbers , but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. He will come in and go out, and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." (John 10:7-10)

     I have to challenge an increasingly prevailing viewpoint right from the start: sometimes newer is not better! I remember many years ago watching an episode of the old TV series “All In The Family” in which Mike and Gloria are unpacking a bag of groceries. As they do so, Mike pulls a can out of the bag and looks at it and then he looks at Gloria and says, “Look at this can. It say 'new and improved.' Everything you buy these days says 'new and improved.' What were we using before? 'Old and lousy?'” You sometimes get that feeling don't you? If you don't have the newest, most up to date of every single thing then you're behind the times. You may even be running the risk of becoming “old and lousy!” Apple started taking pre-orders for their first I-Pad on March 12, 2010. On March 7of this year (a little less than two years after Apple started taking pre-orders for the I-Pad 1, the I-Pad 3 went on sale. And people started scrapping their I-Pad 2's because now they were old and outdated. It's a little bit crazy. Just because something's newer doesn't mean it's always better. In today's Scripture reading, Jesus says “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” Those are nice words, but they don't quite capture what Jesus was saying. Newer isn't better in this case. I want you to hear the version of those words that comes from the King James Bible: “I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.” I want to draw your attention to the word “abundantly.” It's pretty important.

     I don't want to bore you with a lot of New Testament Greek, but this really is important if we're going to understand the passage the way John wrote it. The Greek word he used is perisson. I checked the word out, and to make a long story short basically it means “beyond.” It means to go above and beyond something. It means something that is “excessive.” Although I usually shy away from the King James Bible because of its dated English, in this particular case older is better, and “abundantly” is right! John in this passage isn't talking about something that's merely full, he's talking about something that's full to overflowing and yet is still being filled. That's how John is choosing to describe the life we gain from Christ, and here's where the King James Bible gets it right. Having life “more abundantly” means something a bit different than simply having life “to the full.” John is saying not just that God meets our needs but that God goes beyond our needs. It means that God gives and gives and gives to excess – of the things we really need to live life as God wants us to live life. That's why I've entitled my comments today “An Abundance Of Abundance” - because God doesn't just give, and God doesn't even just give abundantly. God gives us an abundance of the things He gives – and God gives that abundance abundantly!

     But what is it that we gain abundantly from God? Maybe we have to eliminate some of the alternatives first. Usually, we make our own decisions about what we need, and then we devote ourselves to the pursuit of whatever it is that we've decided upon. When we do that, in a way we're playing God with our own lives; we've made ourselves our own god. We've decided that we know better, and the end result is that we enslave ourselves to the pursuit of these other things. I want to share another Gospel passage with you. This comes from Matthew's Gospel: “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” So Jesus challenges His followers to decide what it is that's important to them. So many people make the wrong decision. There are so many things that people believe will make their life worth living or at least barely live-able if they can only have those things in abundance. But neither “worth living” nor “barely live-able” are abundant living. What earthly things do we “store up” - or at least depend on, in the wrong-headed belief that these are the things we need? If the name of the demon who inhabited the man who lived among the tombs in Mark's Gospel was “legion,” then there may be a demonic element to this, because there are a legion of things we depend on that aren't God!

     Let me say that I don't throw around words like “demon” and “demonic” lightly – nor do I intend them as a joke. I'm quite serious. I have an open mind to what the New Testament means when it refers to demons – whether they're actual supernatural entities with an independent existence or whether it's a way of referring to those often everday things which by their very nature get in the way of our relationship with God. What I can't deny is that the New Testament refers to them – over and over and over again, and in a number of ways; not always with the word “demons.” When Paul speaks in Ephesians of the “principalities and powers” he's referring to the same things. And, in today's passage from John (echoed in that passage from Matthew that I shared with you), the “thief” Jesus referred to is, I believe, the same sort of thing. We may not know exactly what a demon is, but we know from all these references what a demon does. A demon steals from you. If something takes away your freedom rather than enhancing it, it's demonic. If something ties you to the service of a “cause” (however noble the cause may be) so that your identity revolves around the cause, rather than freeing you to be a disciple of Jesus and a child of God, it's demonic. If something restricts your life rather than allowing you to live it, it's demonic. And so many things do that - so many everyday things.

     How many things are there that can control us and enslave us? Countless – or, dare I say it – legion! How many people depend on money to the point of serving it? Greed is a demon. What about health? By all means eat right and exercise properly, but some people become so fearful about their health that they lose their enjoyment of life because they're so afraid of losing their life or their quality of life. Hypochondria is a demon. Some people depend on food. For some, food becomes the only thing that calms them – we all know the phrase “comfort food.” And for others, food becomes a deadly enemy, and they do everything possible to lose more and more weight by avoiding it. At either extreme, both gluttony and anorexia are demons. Some people are totally dependent on drugs or alcohol to find their way through life and to ease some sort of pain from their past or their present. Addiction is a demon. Some people are obsessed with the pursuit of power and they'll go to almost any ends to achieve it, regardless of what those ends might be. Corruption is a demon. Some are dependent on numbers. We put our faith in numbers. We need numbers. We measure success by numbers. The church is especially guilty of that – almost obsessive about how many members we have, how many attend services. The “number” becomes a demon. They all become demons because they all draw us away from God; they all disfigure and defile our lives rather than enhancing them. They're all things that may make life more live-able, but they don't give us life to abundance. The only way to satisfy ourselves with them is to be enslaved to them - or at least to their pursuit, so that our entire life revolves around them. “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy.” By enslaving us to the pursuit of things that will never truly satisfy and that can never be a guarantee of anything, that's exactly what happens. But the good news is that there is a choice. We don't have to surrender to these demonic forces that are all around us, whatever they may be for each of us individually. We don't have to, because we can choose Jesus, and Jesus gives life and freedom.

     “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. ” Or, as the King James Bible puts it: “I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.” Jesus offers us an abundance – and an abundance of that abundance. And what does He offers us an abundance of abundance of? Himself! He's the One Who frees us, Who liberates us, Who enhances our lives, Who gives us and dignity and respect. Anything that takes away from those things is the work of “the thief,” and if we find that our lives lack those fundamental qualities – then we're victims of “the thief” and if we seek to take away those things from others, then we're in league with “the thief.” But no more! It doesn't have to be that way! We live as children of God. God has given us Jesus. He fills us with His life and He releases us from the power of “the thief,” who only takes away from us and leaves us unimaginably and desperately needy. Jesus on the other hand fills us to overflowing with goodness and mercy and love and compassion and joy and peace and hope. Jesus grants us an abundance of dignity and respect – and He does it abundantly. This is life as God wants it lived – with an abundance of abundance of all the things that really matter and that set us free from all that steals and kills and destroys.

April 22 2012 sermon - Christ Is Risen So We Are Rising

This is the account of the heavens and the earth when they were created. When the Lord God made the earth and the heavens – and no shrub of the field had yet appeared on the earth and no plant of the field had yet sprung up, for the Lord God had not sent rain on the earth and there was no man to work the ground, but streams came up from the earth and watered the whole surface of the ground – the Lord God formed the man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being. (Genesis 2:4-7)

     Since – as the children know - this is, indeed, Earth Day, this passage – which speaks of the creation of the earth and all things on it, including us – seems appropriate. This passage is about life – it's about God creating life, sustaining life, nurturing life. The passage is a reminder to us that life itself comes from God, and therefore it's a reminder to us that we're supposed to celebrate life in all its diversity – with both its promise and its challenge – and that we're supposed to live life in such a way that we also celebrate the God who's given life to us. We're also meeting here today two weeks after Easter Sunday and now in the midst of the Easter season – which is perhaps the greatest celebration of life there is. Easter is not just a celebration of life, and it's not even just the celebration of Jesus' resurrection (although it's certainly that.) Easter is a celebration of victory. Easter celebrates hope's victory over despair and life's triumph over death. Easter is the promise of eternity given to all of us because Jesus' resurrection was for all of us. Jesus' resurrection demonstrates to us that God chooses life. Long ago, the Book of Deuteronomy tells us that a choice was placed before the people of Israel by Joshua: “... I have set before you life and death ... Now choose life, so that you and your children may live and that you may love the Lord Your God, listen to His voice, and hold fast to Him. For the Lord is your life ...” The good news that we celebrate today as followers of Jesus is that this choice is no longer before us. Why is that good news? Because the choice has been made for us – by God! In the resurrection of Jesus, God chooses life for His people. That's what resurrection is about. “Because I live, you also will live,” Jesus said. There's no choice there. We don't have to wonder. We don't have to be unsure. Assurance doesn't have to be an elusive thing. “Because I live, you also will live.” Sounds pretty definite to me! And it's supposed to sound pretty definite to us all! The choice has been made. It's been made by God. There's no doubt about it. Life wins! Every single time. It never goes to overtime and there are no seven game series in this. Life simply wins – because God chose life for us by raising Jesus from the dead! That's why proclaiming that “Christ is risen” is so important – because if Christ is risen, then so will we be raised – not just to eternal life (although I believe that's also assured to us) but to a new quality of life and a new way of life right now. Rising to that new life is both our challenge – because we're the ones who have to live it, after all – but it's also our destiny – because it is, in some way, God's will for us. It's always been God's will for us. That's why, in this morning's reading, I took us all the way back to the Bible's beginning, where we learn that it's always been God's will to raise us to life.

     a-dam . That's the Hebrew word. It can mean a lot of things. In English we think of it as a name – Adam – which has caused us perhaps to misinterpret what the passage has been trying to tell us for thousands of years. In Hebrew, it's not commonly used as a name. I did a bit of research and discovered that it's really not in use in Israel, for example, as a name – because in Hebrew it's a word. It means broadly “mankind” or “humanity.” If we think of the word in that way, we start to see that the story we read isn't about the creation of a specific person; it's about the creation of all humanity – it reveals truths about humanity (about our nature, our origins and even our destiny.) It also tells us about ourselves and about how to live this life God has given us.

     a-dam comes from the earth. We – humanity – are essentially of the same stuff as the earth. That's  basic science these days, and it's revealed here to be true as well. The word a-dam comes from another Hebrew word “a-dam-ah” which means “earth.” We are of the earth. We have a kinship of sorts with the planet and with all the creatures on the planet. We're all of God. When the United Church's New Creed tells us to “live with respect in creation,” that's presumably a part of what's meant – if we can't live with respect in creation, we can't really live with respect with one another because we are all of the same stuff. And if we can't live with respect with one another, then there's no real relationship, and that's what God seeks to create – relationship. We were created to be in relationship – with God and with one another. That's our destiny. Relationship with God. That's our present reality – the relationship with God guaranteed us by the resurrection of Jesus, which promises that Jesus wasn't only “God with us” at the manger in Matthew 2, but that He remains “God with us” long after the empty tomb – because He's still with us. God desires relationship with us. If life is about living with respect and right relationship how do we do it? How do we achieve it? The creation story is rich with advice.

     Of course, literally Adam is brought out of the earth (formed out of the earth; one with creation) but it seems at first that nothing happens. The story in that sense is pretty bare bones. It seems as if Adam's body is formed but it lies lifeless in the dust; little more than a corpse – until something happens. God “breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.” point here is that our life comes from God. There is no life until God's breath enters us. This isn't God's Spirit, although it's a similar concept. The word for God's Spirit in the Old Testament carries the idea of an uncontrollable wind. This word means a controlled breath. The point is that God's work in creating Adam and all humanity is deliberate and planned and purposeful. There is a point to our existence, and right from the start that point revolves around relationship with God. Think about the imagery. How do you breathe life into someone else? “Mouth to mouth!” What an intimate portrayal of the connection between God and humanity! And the end result is not just that Adam and humanity is formed out of the earth – we're lifted from the earth and granted special status as those with authority over the earth – a word that means we have responsibility and accountability for how we live out our relationship with the rest of creation, because we really are of one stuff with the animals, the plants and the earth and with one another. No true spirituality can promote mere exploitation of anything. Real spirituality acknowledges the connections and ensures that we care for each other and for the earth from which we came. The earth is for us. It feeds us and nourishes us and provides us with a home. But we are also for the earth. We have to take care of it, because God has entrusted it to us. But there are so many things that can get in the way of the relationships we enjoy with God and with all that's around us. 

     Remember that Adam had to be lifted out of the earth; in a way placed above it by the very breath of God. We're still in the process of being lifted; of rising with Christ from death into life. One of our problems is that we get stuck in so much muck and mire in our every day lives that we often miss out on every day life! We become so consumed by the details of what's happening at any given moment that we miss the big picture. Sometimes – too often in my own life, I admit - we even let those details get in the way of God. Think about this. a-dam had to be lifted out of the earth - and not just formed from the earth - by the very breath of God in order to become a living being. If we want to extend this concept to our own time and circumstance, does the Spirit of God in a way not have to lift us out of the earth and set us apart (not above) for a very special purpose? Is it in this purpose that we find meaning in life. What is the purpose of life – in simple terms? "The chief end of man is to glorify God" says the Westminster Catechism. We are called to enjoy a relationship with God; we were created for that very purpose. We cannot enjoy that relationship as long as we are stuck in the mud and mire around us, as a-dam was before the breath of life came from God. In the same way, God gives us life; God lifts us above the everyday problems and trials and challenges (not freeing us from them, but lifting us above them) to be able to see God in the midst of it all and to be able to proclaim God to all who need to be freed from that which enchains and imprisons them - everything from actual human oppression to the simple but powerful demands of the time clock which often keep us too busy to really enjoy our relationship with God, instead demanding that we be constantly moving on to something else, some higher purpose, some more meaningful activity than fellowship with God and God's people. This breath of life that God breathes into us frees us to focus on our real purpose - to be in relationship with God, and when we do that we find ourselves also in relationship of one sort or another with all that God has created, seeking to liberate it as well - fellow humans, animals, plants, the land itself - to glorify God rather than to simply serve us.

     That's called life. That's life as God intended it to be – at peace, at liberty. It's we who choose to be enchained and imprisoned and reduced to mere existence by what goes on around us. The Spirit of God wants to enter into us, just as the breath of God entered into a-dam. The Spirit of God wants to free us from mere existence and raise us to actual life. God brought a-dam forth from the earth into life, where he found himself with God. God raised Jesus from the tomb into life where He found Himself with God. God raises us from whatever holds us in bondage and oppression and into life where we find ourselves with God. That's life. That's life as God intended it to be. Freed from mere existence to enjoy life with God. It's one of the lessons of creation – we are one with all that exists and called to relationship with all that exists. It's one of the lessons of Easter – that Christ is risen, and as a result, we are rising!

April 8 2012 sermon - Because Death Could Not Hold Him

Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, to God’s elect, strangers in the world, scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia, who have been chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, for obedience to Jesus Christ and sprinkling by his blood: Grace and peace be yours in abundance. Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade—kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls. (1 Peter 1:1-9)

     Easter's tough on a preacher! I mean, think about this with me for a moment - what do you say that hasn't already been said? What can you say that hasn't already been said? And when I contemplate that dilemma, I find myself finally wondering - is it even necessary to say something that hasn't been said, or should the principle, in the words of an old hymn we sing from time to time, be simply "tell me the old, old story"? The church desperately engages in an ongoing quest for new and exciting and contemporary things but I wonder if perhaps freshness and originality are over-rated concepts – at least on Easter Sunday! At the very least they're probably unrealistic expectations on Easter Sunday, and maybe trying to find something new and original to offer isn't even a good approach. The truth is that maybe the basic old, old story is enough. So it's about the resurrection. Jesus overcame death. Maybe what we do today needs to be nothing more complicated than proclaiming and celebrating that – because, after all, the idea of someone being raised from the dead is probably complicated enough as it is. But still, we're here – and I do have something to say! We heard one of the traditional Gospel passages about the resurrection earlier. I deliberately chose Mark's version to go along wth my “keep it simple” philosophy this year, because Mark's version of the resurrection is the simplest and the shortest. He keeps it simple – so simple that some years after the Gospel of Mark was written, somebody decided to add on a few more verses because it must have seemed too bare-boned, and perhaps it left too much hanging, but we don't really need to discuss that right now. Mark isn't the focus for my comments today anyway. I want instead to move into a later part of the New Testament – the Epistles, we call them; the letters that were written to various communities of early Christians in the years after the Easter event (some of them written even before the Gospels) in an attempt to put flesh on spirit – to give practical advice about the teachings of Jesus and the implications of the story of Jesus. So for today? Resurrection, yes, obviously - but a practical application of the resurrection. The Gospel is what we believe; the Epistles are how we put what we believe into practice and they describe the effect it should have on our day to day lives. Today I ask - how should the resurrection change us? Why does it make a difference? I think that we are different, and I think that the world is different – and all because death could not hold Him!

     Truthfully, there aren't that many single events over the course of history that have really changed history dramatically. Great wars get fought, but often the issues that caused the great wars just keep going on and on and on and lead to more great wars. Great people come and go, but their legacies are usually short-lived, often restricted to their own time and place. Huge disasters happen, but the effects are generally temporary. These things are remembered as curiosities. They give jobs to university professors who make a living off lecturing about them, but they don't necessarily impact our day to day lives very much. But then there's the resurrection of Jesus. The effects of that haven't been restricted to one time or one place or one people. Still today, two thousand years after the event, people have their lives changed and their way of looking at life changed by the resurrection of Jesus. You may believe in the resurrection or you may not – but the world you live in is a different world than it would have been had the story never been told, or had it been forgotten; tossed into the dustbin of history; hopelessly mythologized. You see, I don't believe that the resurrection of Jesus is a myth. I believe it happened. I believe there may be mythic components to it (myth being understood as stories that form a way for us to understand the world around us and to organize what we see around us into those understandable bits) but I also believe that the resurrection of Jesus was a real event in history. I believe it happened. I believe that Jesus rose from the dead. The Roman Empire executed many of Jesus' original disciples because they insisted on proclaiming the resurrection, and I simply don't believe that not a single one of them would have cracked in the face of death – but none did, and you can be quite sure that if even one had it would have been remembered by history. But those original disciples died, because they had seen death defeated with their own eyes. They had seen Jesus die, and they had seen Him alive after. All else aside, that's why I believe in the resurrection. The story of Jesus and the growth of the movement that had sprung up around Him doesn't make sense unless there was a real resurrection connected with it. And the world has been changed. I admit that the Jesus movement hasn't always changed the world for the better. The church has done a lot of bad things over the centuries – and still does sometimes, basically because we might be Christians, but we're still humans, and – like all humans – we're not perfect. But as I've said to many people, on balance, I believe that the church (the Jesus movement, if you will) has done far more good than evil and I for one wouldn't want to live in a world where the hope contained in the gospel and in the resurrection wasn't being offered by someone. And that's our job. You see, we offer hope to the world – and to the many people in the world who all too often live without hope, either because they have so little that they can't imagine anything better; or because they have so much that they can't imagine actually having enough. But we as disciples of Jesus who proclaim Him as both crucified and risen offer hope to this sometimes hopeless world. As bad as it might seem, something good is rising out of it. As tightly sealed as the tomb was, the tomb was still empty. As dead as Jesus was, He was still seen alive. A dark as life might sometimes seem, there's always light – because there's always Jesus, who said He was “the light of the world” and who asked us who dare to be His disciples, to be “the light of the world.” And we take up that challenge and that mission. Why? Because death could not hold Him! And if death could not hold Him nothing should be able to hold us back!

     But that's history. In practical terms – what about us? What difference does this make to you and me in our every day lives. Peter, I thought, got to the heart of that question in his letter. He addresses his comments to all those who belong to God – not just those who attend church, or to those who pray every day, or to those who do all sorts of good deeds – but to all those who belong to God, and he sums up the power of the resurrection in our individual lives in this way: “in His great mercy He has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade—kept in heaven for you ...”

     Peter tells us that God is a merciful and kind and loving God who has given us a completely new life – a new birth as he describes it – which lifts us out of hopelessness or despair or grief and which gives us a “living hope” - a hope that will never die or be taken away from us. This hope frees us from fear or uncertainty; this hopes frees us from the power of death itself because it is a hope founded on “the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead,” which is the sign and the promise of death's ultimate powerlessness. And if we can claim the promise that death has been defeated as our own, what else is there that could possibly hold us back?

     This is “salvation.” That word has acquired a bit of a negative connotation in recent years – partly because the church hasn't always proclaimed it properly. Often the concept is used as a tool to instill fear: “look what's going to happen to you unless you get saved,” or it's used as an excuse for arrogant pride: “look what I have and you don't!” But it's really just a gift of God. I say “just” a gift from God not because it's not important, but because it's really so simple. God has given it to me, and it's intimately connected with the resurrection of Jesus. If we trust that He was raised from death, then we know the power of God to save us from anything. That's “salvation.” Because death could not hold Him, life and all its challenges cannot hold me – and neither can it hold you. You've been set free – not simply to do as you wish, but to live as God desires – in love and at peace and with grace to be extended to all whom we encounter – friends or enemies, rich or poor, black or white, Christian or Muslim, Hindu or Jew, male or female, young or old – because Jesus died for them all. And because death could not hold Him!

April 8 2012 (Easter Sunrise) sermon - Surprise!

Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance. So she came running to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one Jesus loved, and said, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don’t know where they have put him!” So Peter and the other disciple started for the tomb. Both were running, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent over and looked in at the strips of linen lying there but did not go in. Then Simon Peter, who was behind him, arrived and went into the tomb. He saw the strips of linen lying there, as well as the burial cloth that had been around Jesus’ head. The cloth was folded up by itself, separate from the linen. Finally the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went inside. He saw and believed. (They still did not understand from Scripture that Jesus had to rise from the dead.) Then the disciples went back to their homes,  but Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb  and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot. They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?”  “They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.”  At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus. “Woman,” he said, “why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?” Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.” Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means Teacher). Jesus said, “Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet returned to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am returning to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: “I have seen the Lord!” And she told them that he had said these things to her. (John 20:1-18)

     I love all of the Gospel accounts of the resurrection, of course. Each have their own spin and tell the story in different ways. Mark is short and to the point – the whole story of  the resurrection in 8 verses. Just the facts, you might say. Matthew and Luke focus on the empty tomb itself and the stone being rolled away and the angel who brings news of this great event to those who arrived. And then there's John. John focusses on the unexpectedness of the event – on the sheer surprise of it all. There's the women confronted by the unexpected and who have no clue what to make of it, and who run to tell the disciples that Jesus' body is gone. There's Peter and John who race to them tomb and look inside and see the mysterious sight of grave clothes neatly folded and who walk away scratching their head, because they cant make sense of it. And there's Mary Magdalene, who stayed at the tomb in despair, and who sees Jesus. But not being able to make sense of it, she doesn't recongize him, and assuming that he must be the gardener, she says “Where is he? Where did you put him?” Then he speaks one word - “Mary!” And her eyes were open, and she knew. It was as if Jesus had looked at her with a smile and said “Surprise!” A gloomy morning had turned happy and joyous! Jesus had risen!

Welcome, happy morning! Age to age shall say:

Hell today is vanquished, heaven is won today!

     Those are the opening words of one of our traditional Easter hymns – actually, it's the hymn we're going to open our 10:00 service with this morning. It's a hymn of victory. Hell today is vanquished! Heaven is won today! Indeed. Easter is victory over all that would oppress us and hold us down and drain the joy out of the lives God has given us. As much as we now – after 2000 years – anticipate its arrival on an annual basis, at its core, Easter is about surprise – because the things over which Easter is victorious are the things that we think shouldn't be beaten.  They're the things we can't overcome – ultimately, it's about victory over death itself - which awaits us all, but which has no victory over any of us, because we are in Christ, and the Christ who died lives again – defying all expectations, beating the odds, making possible the impossible. “Surprise” is a great Easter word!

     Our God is the God of surprises. Our God is the God who can do the most unexpected things. Our God is the God who can't be held hostage to our expectations. Our God is the God Who can't be contained in the little “God-boxes” we build in our minds to restrict what God is to what we want God to be. So often we doubt, because the things God does in such abundance are the very things that we ourselves can't do, and so they surprise us. God surprises us! There are so many chains that entangle and imprison us that we can't escape from – but God has a way of setting us free, even though we think freedom is impossible. I once heard someone say that if God had a last name, God's last name would be "Surprise." Early on Easter morning, that works!

     Today we mark the surprise of the early morning at the tomb on that very first Easter morning. We're a small gathering – but that's appropriate, because it was only a few who could face the prospect of travelling to the tomb that morning. Most were so defeated by the events of the preceding couple of days that it was probably all they could do to open their eyes. How often do the mornings beckon us that way. The day to come holds the unknown; we don't know what to expect; maybe we expect the worst; maybe it's hard to get out of bed. Early morning can be the most ominous time of all, because we have an idea of what the day ahead might hold, just as those who travelled to the tomb probably walked slowly, dreading the duty they were going to perform of ritually anointing the dead body of someone they loved with oil and spices. But sometimes the early morning holds the most wonderful surprise of all.

     Early morning held a surprise for the women who went to the tomb. They didn't discover what they thought they would discover. The darkness of night suddenly lifted, and the light that replaced it with the sunrise revealed the most amazing thing – the most unexpected thing of all. They found life where there should have been no life. They found hope where there should have been only despair. They found joy where there should have been only grief. Those are the surprising things still today about the early morning encounters we have with God when we awaken and once again face whatever fears or concerns or apprehensions we have about the day ahead. God suddenly comes to us and drives away our fears and calms our troubled hearts and says “do I ever have a surprise for you!”

     Maybe there's not much more than that to be said. After all, it's a Sunrise Service. The light of the sun has replaced the darkness of the night, and we travel on with hope, with joy and with faith, no matter what else might be happening around us. Why? Because Christ died, but now Christ is risen! Surprise!

April 6 2012 (Good Friday) sermon - What A Gift!

For Christ’s love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And He died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for Him who died for them and was raised again. So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, He is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come! All this is from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to Himself in Christ, not counting men’s sins against them. And He has committed to us the message of reconciliation. We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making His appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God. God made Him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.  (2 Corinthians 5:14-21)

     It seems a bit strange to talk about Good Friday as a gift, doesn't it.  What sort of gift is a rugged wooden cross that was basically used as an intrument of torture and death?  This certainly isn't the Christmas story, and if it were I doubt that we'd want to find a rugged wooden cross - the sort on which Jesus was crucified - under our tree, in the same way that we likely wouldn't want to see an electric chair (perhaps the closest modern relative to the cross) under our tree. No, really, the  cross is a hard sell. Good Friday is a hard sell. Why bother? Most people just want to get to the good stuff - Easter Sunday - and even then, most people in the world are content  to mark it with bunnies and eggs and chocolate rather than with thoughts of resurrection - because resurrection implies death. You don't need to be raised unless you've first fallen. So, where's the gift of Good Friday? What's so “good” about Good Friday?

     I'm very taken with the words of Paul in 2 Corinthians, when he wrties that “one died for all.” The loose theme that's been holding our services together throughout Lent has been “building healthy relationships.” The last couple of weeks I've talked about our relationship with God, and even more specifically, about reconciliation. Good Friday is the culmination of that theme. On the cross – as gruesome as the image might be for us (although, unfortunately, it isn't really, because the modern world has sanitized the cross and turned it into a wardrobe accessory rather than a sign of sacrifice) – we see reconciliation taking place at its most powerful. Christ is the concrete sign of reconciliation. In His death, he breaks the barrier between ourselves and God. I remember an image that I was taught by one of my professors when I was in theological college - the image of the cross as a bridge extending across a wide chasm from God to us. A few days ago I saw a news report about the opening of one of the longest suspension bridges in the world. It's in the province of Hunan, in China. It spans a huge canyon between two very tall mountains. The bridge is about a mile and a half long and it's several hundred feet high. The news report took us partway across the bridge with a camera – perhaps we only got partway across because the cameraman couldn't take it anymore. The pictures I saw were terrifying, as one looked over the side of the bridge into what could only be described as an abyss. Sometimes that seems to be a way of defining our own relationship with God. The distance between us can be so deep and dark and the chasm can seem so wide that it seems almost impossible to overcome – until we encounter the cross. And the cross can be terrifying as well – just as that suspension bridge in Hunan is terrifying. It's terrifying because of its sheer ugliness. As I said, we miss that. Even most of our hymns about the cross miss that. So the cross becomes “wondrous” or it's just “an old rugged cross” - something to be lifted “high.” It's as if we don't want to acknowledge its reality; its gruesomeness.  And when someone tries to remind us of the sheer brutality of the cross, we shy away in horror. We don't want to see it. Think of some of the reactions to Mel Gibson's movie “The Passion Of The Christ.”  I had ministry colleagues who condemned that movie without even seeing it. They wouldn't watch it – it was too violent, too bloody, too gruesome – which was the point. It's about a crucifixion. It's not a nice piece of business. But, ultimately, it really is that terrifying bridge that crosses the gap; it really is where the divine meets the human - because what's both more human and less divine than death? But in the cross of Jesus (perhaps even more than in His birth) we see the divine and the human come together, with all the differences between that which is human and that which is divine set aside and done away with. On the cross, we see God experience as gruesome a fate as any of us could possibly imagine – so that there's nothing left for us to experience that God can't understand, can't relate to and can't walk through with us. That reinforces my own theology of the cross – that the cross isn't so much a sacrifice for sin (although sin is clearly involved with the cross as this passage points out) but rather that the cross is the final sign of divine-human solidarity. God (in Christ) submits to that most human of experiences that God had no need to experience. It's only through the cross (with divine incarnation in Jesus as a prerequisite) that God can finally and fully understand what it is to be us. This is a sign of love beyond our ability to fully comprehend – not so much that Jesus died for us, but that God experienced death with us!

     So, as Paul said, “one died for all.” There's reconciliation right there. The world had a need that Jesus could meet, and Jesus met it. It's not my intention to introduce something rather flippant into our Good Friday reflections, but I can't help when I read Paul's words but to think about Mr. Spock's death scene in Star Trek II. Having sacrificed himself to save the good starship Enterprise and its crew, in some closing words with Captain Kirk before his death, Spock says “the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.” And Kirk replies, “or the one.” “... Christ’s love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them ...” That “one died for all” is a sign of love, and it teaches us that a real love is that which reconciles us to one another and to God, because as followers of the One Who “died for all,” we also are called to walk that walk of sacrifice for each other. This is why the cross is a gift. As ugly as it is, it brings us together and it overcomes the walls of separation and division that have been built up between us. For all the ugliness of the cross, this is the gift of the cross.

    So here (in and through the cross) we find reconciliation - and here (in and through the cross) we find the challenge of Good Friday. In the cross (which is the ultimate sign of Jesus' ministry) we are reconciled to God. And as Paul tells us, as the Body of Christ we are now the ones to whom the ministry of reconciliation has been entrusted. “And He has committed to us the message of reconciliation. We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making His appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God.”

     Ambassadors have to present credentials before they can begin the job of representing those who have sent them. If we are Christ's ambassadors, then we also have to be able to present our credentials to the world. Our credentials are the new life that the cross has opened for us. “if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!” The cross – by its very example of selfless sacrifice – is our example of what that new creation should look like as it shines forth from us. It should be that which reconciles; that which reaches out; that which loves; that which does not count the cost. It should be that which gives true life and dignity to all and that saps the life and dignity from none. That is the gift revealed on the cross; the gift that has been given to us by God; the gift we are called to offer on behalf of God. What a gift it is!