A Thought For The Week Of July 27, 2015

"Then Agrippa said to Paul, 'Do you think that in such a short time you can persuade me to be a Christian?'" (Acts 26:28) Paul was bold. He had known King Agrippa (a descendant of Herod the Great) for only a short time but almost immediately had begun to share with him the story of Jesus. Agrippa's reply is above. Paul had been challenging Agrippa to let go of what were probably long held beliefs and to adapt both a new way of living and a new way of living. To me, that says "boldness." It was a very bold move of Paul to seek to bear witness  to Jesus right off the bat - something that I suspect most Christians today would be uncomfortable doing, and that some Christians might even find offensive. But for Paul it was second nature. Whether uncomfortable or offended, many Christians today would shy away from following Paul's lead because, after all, we live in a pluralistic society and we don't want to be disrespectful. Well, it's worth noting that the same could be said for Paul - and yet he often received a favourable response when he shared the gospel. People were interested to hear what he had to say, because he shared respectfully. In response, he would get a hearing. Those who listened to him wouldn't always agree with him, but they would listen. And perhaps even more important is to note what Paul's agenda was: it was witnessing, plain and simple. It wasn't conversion. That, of course, was his hope, but Paul understood that faith came from God and that he had to leave the response to his message - whatever it was - to God. We see that in Paul's reply to Agrippa in the next verse: "Short time or long - I pray God that not only you but all who are listening to me today may become what I am ..."  In other words, Paul was saying that the response to his message was out of his hands. His only goal was to share the gospel. How long it would take to have an impact on his listeners was between them and God. That, to me, sums up what the strategy and goal of evangelism should be: to share the good news with a heartfelt desire that those you share with will respond, but to leave the results to God. We do want people to respond. After all, we have to believe that what we're sharing is important or else we can't share it effectively.So we share with the earnest desire that somewhere along the way - at a time known only to God - what we share will have a positive impact on the lives of those we share with.

July 26 2015 sermon - Expectations

Some time after this, Jesus crossed to the far shore of the Sea of Galilee (that is, the Sea of Tiberias), and a great crowd of people followed him because they saw the signs he had performed by healing the sick. Then Jesus went up on a mountainside and sat down with his disciples. The Jewish Passover Festival was near. When Jesus looked up and saw a great crowd coming toward him, he said to Philip, "Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?" He asked this only to test him, for he already had in mind what he was going to do. Philip answered him, "It would take more than half a year’s wages to buy enough bread for each one to have a bite!" Another of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, spoke up, "Here is a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish, but how far will they go among so many?" Jesus said, "Have the people sit down." There was plenty of grass in that place, and they sat down (about five thousand men were there). Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish. When they had all had enough to eat, he said to his disciples, "Gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted." So they gathered them and filled twelve baskets with the pieces of the five barley loaves left over by those who had eaten. After the people saw the sign Jesus performed, they began to say, "Surely this is the Prophet who is to come into the world." Jesus, knowing that they intended to come and make him king by force, withdrew again to a mountain by himself. When evening came, his disciples went down to the lake, where they got into a boat and set off across the lake for Capernaum. By now it was dark, and Jesus had not yet joined them. A strong wind was blowing and the waters grew rough. When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus approaching the boat, walking on the water; and they were frightened. But he said to them, "It is I; don’t be afraid." Then they were willing to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the shore where they were heading.

(John 6:1-21)

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     Expectations. Let’s be honest. We’ve come here this morning with expectations. You have expectations of me, and I have expectations of you. That’s a part of any new relationship, isn’t it. The author Marianne Williamson, whose words I included in the order of service today, wrote that “every ending is a new beginning.” And new beginnings are exciting. And so, we have expectations. High expectations. All of us have been through an ending a few weeks ago. I assume it was an emotional ending for you here; I know it was an emotional ending for me in Port Colborne. And now we’re together. And there are expectations. We expect a lot of each other. Truth be told - we may expect too much of each other.

     Most of you have heard of Mahatma Gandhi. He was truly one of the great men of the twentieth century. A Hindu, he became an Indian nationalist, and led India to independence from Great Britain in a non-violent revolution. As a young man, he lived and practiced law in South Africa. It was before the days of formal apartheid, but racism was well entrenched in South African society at the time, a nominally Christian society though it may have been. While he was there he read and was captivated by the Gospels and was attracted to Christianity. There’s a story that Gandhi at one time tried to attend a service in a South African church. He was turned away at the door - forbidden to enter because he was Indian - or “coloured” in the vernacular of the day - and the church was for “whites only.” He never showed interest in the Christian faith again. Years later, he was asked why, since so many of his teachings seemed consistent with those of Jesus. It had come down to expectations. “I admire your Christ,” Gandhi said, “but you Christians are so unlike your Christ.” Frankly, he had a point, and that’s where expectations about new relationships in the church tend to crash and burn.

     Jesus could do miracles! Some have their doubts about that, but I don’t. Incarnation - the belief that Jesus was in fact God in human form - is the centrepiece of my theology, so I believe that Jesus could do miracles. Today’s Gospel reading focussed on a miracle. It’s known as the feeding of the five thousand. And stories like it can lead to expectations. John Wimber was the founder of the very charismatic Vineyard movement. Wimber started his life of faith attending a very traditional Church of England congregation. After a while he went to the priest and asked “where’s the stuff?” “What ‘stuff’,” the priest asked in reply. “You know. The stuff Jesus did. The miracles. Where are they?” Wimber had expectations that we in the church should be like Jesus; that the things that happened when Jesus was around should be happening among us.

     I want to make one request of you today. Just one for now. Please don’t expect me to be Jesus! I won’t be Jesus. I’m not going to feed five thousand people with a few loaves and fishes. I’m not going to walk on water. I’m not likely to heal the sick and I’m even less likely to raise the dead! Please don’t expect me to be Jesus. That’s my one request of you this morning. And I make one promise to you today. Just one for now. I won’t expect you to be Jesus either. I’ll expect you to be a congregation with strengths and weaknesses, as long as you expect me to be a minister with strengths and weaknesses. And I’d like to both ask and promise that we celebrate each other’s strengths and forgive each other’s weaknesses. That’s a lot better than starting with unrealistic expectations.

     But I do want to suggest this. If we can start by agreeing that I’m not Jesus, and neither are you, I do want us all to consider the possibility that WE - together - are Jesus, to this community and to the world. We have strengths that can compensate for each other’s weaknesses - and we want to combine our strengths so that we don’t ever become that church Gandhi encountered that turned him permanently away from the Christian faith. And, if we can do that - then, together, we can be Jesus to those we encounter.

     How do we be like Jesus? Do we have to do miracles? Do we have to live up to that expectation? Maybe - but what was the miracle in this passage? Setting aside the drama, what really counted was the end result. Hungry people were fed; frightened people were calmed. Everyone was saved from the greatest need they had at that moment. That’s our ministry. That’s how - together - we become like Jesus. We have to live with our eyes open to the needs around us - the physical needs, the emotional needs, the spiritual needs. Jesus encountered five thousand people who had needs. We focus, I think, too much on the drama - on the five loaves and two fish - and I think we miss the point because of that. The story doesn’t actually say that five loaves and two fish fed five thousand people. It tells us that Andrew found one boy who had five loaves and two fish. There may well have been others who had food. The problem was that there were also many who were hungry, and some have suggested that the real miracle here was not that Jesus fed five thousand people with five loaves of bread and two fish, but rather that Jesus convinced those who had food to share it with those who didn’t. Perhaps there was more than enough food - it just wasn’t accessible to everyone - which isn’t actually a bad analogy for the world today. Those who have a lot tend to hold on to it and end up having more and more, so that those who have little actually end up having less and less. Jesus met a physical need - he fed the hungry - but he also met a spiritual need - he freed others from the tyranny of self-centredness and selfishness and created a bond between people that moved them to help and share with each other. He created a community out of a diverse group of people who had different ideas and different priorities and maybe even different beliefs - and Jesus overcame those differences and made that great crowd of people one. That’s what we do if we live like Jesus. Paul wrote that “... I pray that you and all God’s holy people will have the power to understand the greatness of Christ’s love - how wide and how long and how high and how deep that love is.” We bring that love of Jesus - not to mention his compassion and grace and presence - to every situation - and that makes us one, bridging our differences and creating a welcoming environment to everyone who wants to join us.

     So, once again, don’t expect ME to be Jesus, just as I promised that I won’t expect YOU to be Jesus. But let’s also remember that the world expects US to be Jesus - and that God empowers us to be so. For all our differences, God gives us all gifts and talents and abilities and if we use them together then we function as the Body of Christ. Paul wrote in Ephesians, “I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.” If Christ dwells in our hearts then Christ should be shown through our hands and voices; through our missions and ministries; through our actions and attitudes; through our worship and witness. And, honestly, if the world doesn’t see Jesus in us and through us, then the world will - and should - turn away, but in those shining moments when Jesus really is revealed in us and through us - when, as a church, we’re at our best -  people will respond, and people will be transformed, and our community will be the stronger for it. Of that I have no doubt.

     So - it’s a new beginning, and it’s time to get started!

A Time Between Churches

I decided to start my ministry at Pickering Village United Church with three weeks of vacation - 21 days that end today.  Tomorrow I head into the church office for the first time as Lead Minister (well, officially anyway, although I have visited a couple of times.) There have been moments when I wondered if this time off was a good idea. Every now and then I've found myself a bit anxious to get started,  and it seems to have been a long time. But I think it was a good idea.  I had been at Central Port Colborne for a long time, all things considered - closing in on 11 years,  and I think I needed a break from a long term ministry before I could start somewhere else. So I've concentrated on moving in, helping set up the house and getting to know the community we're living in and the surrounding area just a little bit. And I went to church here in town.  Only once, but it was a very different setting than I had been accustomed to obviously. And I have to get used to things being different.

I had become very comfortable at Central. Comfortable with the liturgy, comfortable with the traditions, comfortable with the people.  Comfortable is nice. I knew what I could push for and how far I could push for it. When complaints emerged, I knew who I should really listen to (because they would be listened to) and who I could just allow to let off steam and then press forward. I knew what was worth fighting for in that context and what I should just allow to pass by. I was very comfortable.  That's part of why I moved on. Comfort isn't necessarily a good thing in ministry - and it was important to have some time away from that comfortable environment so that I could embrace the opportunity to do something different (and therefore challenging) without feeling the need to force how I've been used to doing things on an unsuspecting congregation. So I've had to let go of my comfort zone a little bit.

Hymns. I have no idea what hymns Pickering Village knows. They use Voices United, so I'm guessing they know the standards. What their favourites are, though,  I have no idea. And they use More Voices - a hymnbook I know only from limited usage at meetings of Niagara Presbytery. But when in Rome - so I've picked one hymn from More Voices for my first Sunday. It's called "Jesus Laughed Out Loud." I'm going to use it with the children. And there are some simple things about the liturgy that are different. Pickering Village has a Prayer of Approach and a Prayer of Confession, whereas I've combined them as a Prayer of Approach and Confession, which I've just called the Opening Prayer. And Pickering Village has the Lord's Prayer near the end of the service, whereas I've always had it near the beginning. When in Rome ... And I've usually just used one Scripture reading; Pickering Village uses two. Small things. No big deal. If I were sitting in the congregation I probably wouldn't even notice.  Well, I would but I wouldn't care. Leading worship with a different format than I've used for years will be strange - but when in Rome ...

That's why the break has been good.  I highly recommend it to others who change pastorates. Leading worship in one environment one Sunday and then in a completely different environment the next Sunday would be a bit jarring and I don't think it would be a service to the new congregation. It would feel odd; I'd feel like a visitor; a stranger. I did it when I moved from Sundridge to Port Colborne. I'd be standing in the pulpit thinking of them as something other than my people. It would be like being a guest preacher. There will probably still be a bit of that feeling,  but I think this time away from the familiar and comfortable has served its purpose. I realized that a few days ago. I don't remember the context, but my wife made reference to "the church." She was referring to Central; my mind went immediately to Pickering Village. Appropriately so.

The break has been good. It's accomplished what I wanted it to accomplish. I'm thinking of myself as the minister of Pickering Village United Church. I'm anxious to start. Tomorrow I'll head to the church office - and enter MY office. I need to do a few things with it to make it feel like mine. The desk needs to be moved. I want to work facing the office door and not the window. And I have phone calls to make - about some baptisms and a wedding. Possibly even a funeral,  although I won't find out about that until tomorrow morning. And there are people to get to know - and I have to learn who it's important to get to know. And I'll probably wander the building a few times over the next few weeks,  just to familiarize myself with where everything is.

The time between churches has been good and it's filled me with enthusiasm for what I'm beginning tomorrow.  I'm not leaving the past behind.  The past is part of me. All that I've experienced and learned as minister of Central United Church, and of the Sundridge Pastoral Charge, and of the Green Bay South Pastoral Charge comes with me. All that I've experienced and learned as an intern at Central Avenue United Church and as a lay person at Victoria Park United Church and as a student at Emmanuel College and through my doctoral studies in Chicago comes with me. But it's in the past. Reality as of tomorrow is Pickering Village United Church. There's a lot more to learn. There's always a lot more to learn.

June 28 2015 sermon: A Time To Come ... And A Time To Go

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace. What do workers gain from their toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil - this is the gift of God. I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that people will fear him. Whatever is has already been, and what will be has been before; and God will call the past to account. 

(Ecclesiastes 3:1-15)

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     A colleague of mine who was leaving her congregation after several years of service posted the following words on Facebook not too long ago: “Where is the good in good bye?” It’s a fair question. It’s one I’ve been struggling with for 105 days now, since I told you all on March 15 that I’d be leaving. At the time it still seemed like a long way off. Now, all of a sudden, here it is. My last service at Central United Church. I feel that I should have something wise and powerful or uplifting and enlightening to share with you today. But ever since I read it, I’ve been burdened with that question: “where is the good in good bye?”

     Well, the more I think about it, the more I realize that there might in fact be nothing good about good bye. Good byes are hard - personally, I hate them! But it’s a little bit like what I was talking about last week - good byes may be hard, but they’re also inevitable. The simple truth is that in one way or another every single relationship we’ll ever have is going to end with some sort of good bye. And usually it’s not good. After all, if it’s someone you’ve taken the time to want to say good bye to, then you’re probably not doing it joyously. There’s an element of grief involved in good byes; an undeniable sadness. I look out at the congregation here today and I see folks here with whom I’ve shared wonderful times of celebration; but I also see folks with whom I’ve shared terrible times of grief. Those experiences create a bond between people - and pastors create more of those bonds than most people just because of the nature of the vocation. And to say good bye to those of you with whom I’ve shared those moments is very hard. So, is there anything good about good bye? Probably not - but if good bye isn’t good, we can still say that good bye involves God. That’s something to reflect on.

     Ecclesiastes 3 is one of my favourite passages of Scripture. It’s a favourite of mine because it doesn’t shirk things. It just gives us a whole list of the sorts of things that people might face in life, usually in contrasts - love and hate; peace and war, birth and death, etc., etc. - and it just tells us that there’s a time for all of them. I don’t think it’s trying to say that God is the cause of all of them. It’s just saying that things happen in life, and it’s reminding us that, really, there’s not much we can do to stop them, and I think it is assuring us that while God isn’t causing these things, God is with us in them all - celebrating with us in times of joy and grieving with us in times of sorrow. Understanding that God is with us but not controlling us means that sometimes we have to do the hard work of discernment. We may not get to decide when we’re going to be born or when we’re going to die, but sometimes we do have to discern when it’s “a time to search and a time to give up, [or] a time to keep and a time to throw away [or] even a time for war or a time for peace.…” And there’s one thing that Solomon forgot to put in his list. We also have to discern when it’s a time to come, and when it’s a time to go. And it’s not easy.

     Over the last 105 days I’ve had people ask me why and how I made the decision to move on - and it isn’t always easy to explain, except that I felt that I had done what I had come here to do - whatever that was, because sometimes we wonder what our impact has been or what our purpose was. Lots of people - ministers as much as anyone - wonder what their purpose in a particular place and at a particular time is, and sometimes we worry about whether we’ve been successful or not. We develop bonds, we put down deep roots, we stand with families in good times and in bad times - but is that it? And if that is it, well - that isn’t a bad thing. Being a pastor is a great privilege that only a few get to experience, and I’m grateful to have been one of only 33 people since 1859 to have worn the title of “Lead Minister” of this congregation - and only Rev. George Knighton (who a few of you remember) was here longer than I’ve been. And to go is hard. But it’s time. It’s not that there isn’t more work to do here. It’s just that I have no more work to do here. I believe that I’ve done the ministry that God brought me here to do. To stay longer than necessary would be to spin my wheels, to drift, to keep on keeping on you might say - and that wouldn’t be healthy for either me or the congregation. So, for me at Central United Church, there was a time to come. Of that I have no doubt. God brought me to this place at a certain time to do a particular ministry. And now is the hard part - the time to go, and I do suspect that on July 26 I’m going to be standing in the pulpit at Pickering Village United Church for the first time, looking out at a sea of unfamiliar faces, and thinking to myself (just a bit anyway): “what have I done?”

     “No one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end,” Solomon wrote. True enough. God is a mystery sometimes. We see dimly, but only as in a mirror was the way Paul described it. We act in faith and in trust and we believe that God has some sort of purpose for us to fulfil, and if, after having discerned God’s call and done the work we feel called to, we can say with Solomon that “I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil - this is the gift of God” then we have done well. My time here at Central has been a gift to me. I have learned far more from you than I have ever been able to teach you, and I will carry my memories of Central with me to whatever ministries God calls me to in the future.

     I know that quoting yourself seems a little bit prideful, but - hey - it’s my last Sunday, so just try and fire me for it! On February 6, 2005 - the very first time that I preached from this pulpit, I said that “everyone has a concept of who and what the ideal minister is, and the simple fact is that I cannot and will not meet those ideals.” That was prophetic. I haven’t met those ideals. I confess that. I’ve made my share of mistakes and for those mistakes and for where they may have caused hurt I apologize and I seek your grace and your forgiveness. But none of those mistakes were the result of a lack of caring or a lack of compassion. And we have had some wonderful successes together. I shared with the Needs Assessment Committee that one thing I’m very proud of is that so many of you have become so much more hands on in terms of mission engagement; that when I came here the understanding of mission seemed to be of special collections three times a year with the money being given away to some other organization. And that’s fine and worthwhile - but I wanted people to learn that mission meant sometimes just helping the person you pass on the street every day; that mission meant seeing the needs that touch your life regularly and responding to them. And I have seen so much growth at Central in that respect and I hope that I was a part of bringing that about.

     I suggested at the outset that I felt that I should have something wise and powerful or uplifting and enlightening to share with you today. I don’t know if I succeeded. But I say this - be Christ in all that you do; be Christ to all whom you meet. I want to leave you with these words of Paul - the last words he wrote to the church in Corinth to whom he was so close:

Finally, brothers and sisters, farewell. Put things in order, listen to my appeal, agree with one another, live in peace; and the God of love and peace will be with you. Greet one another with a holy kiss. All the saints greet you. The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.

June 21 2015 sermon: Everything Changes - Except Jesus!

... be content with what you have, because God has said, "Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you." So we say with confidence, "The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can mere mortals do to me?" Remember your leaders, who spoke the word of God to you. Consider the outcome of their way of life and imitate their faith. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.

(Hebrews 13:5b-8)

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      Today is the first day of summer. The seasons change. They never stop. In a few unfortunately short weeks, it will be fall, and not too long after that, winter. Then will come spring and summer again. A constant cycle of change from one season to the next. It's the way of the world. Everything changes. I suppose you’d have to say that it’s one of the most obvious axioms of life: everything changes. It’s been put in various ways by various people. Louis L’Amour - a famous American author best known for westerns but who wrote in a variety of genres and was known as "America’s storyteller" - perhaps put it best when he said that "the only thing that never changes is that everything changes." Change is inevitable - and it happens everywhere. The world changes, the church changes, people change. It’s just reality. We may see change for the better - and perhaps sometimes we see the changes in other ways - but we can’t deny the reality of change. It confronts us every day of our lives.

      There’s a lot of change happening right now at Central United Church. I don’t have to tell you that, either. Today, as we celebrate Bob’s 35 years of music ministry and as we wish him well on his retirement, we’re confronted by change - and within a couple of weeks from today Central is going to be a very different place. To what end? I suppose that’s the question isn’t it as the congregation begins a cycle of three weeks in a row marked by change. Bob will retire and Darlene will step in. I’ll move on and Donna Howlett will step in. And in one sense things won’t change too much - I suspect that somehow Central United Church will survive without Bob and I and at 10:00 every Sunday morning there will still be a collection of faithful people who gather together to worship God. But in a way everything will be different, because ultimately church is about people - and as people come and go the church changes. Is that good or bad? It’s probably neither. It’s just inevitable. It’s something we have to adjust to. Today is never exactly the same as yesterday, and tomorrow simply will not be today. There will be change. The only thing that really matters is how we respond to change - do we embrace it, or do we try to flee from it?

      As hard as we might find it to embrace change, change is important. That which is new comes from something that was old; that which will be comes from that which was. Everything we are today is the result of a lifetime of change. We move through the stages of life: infancy, childhood, adulthood, old age - and, yes, eventually death. Those are all changes. But as Christians we believe that even death doesn’t put an end to us; it just changes us. And the way we live our life and manage these transitions represent the impact we have on others - which we all hope is for the better. The Indian author Amit Ray wrote that "in every change, in every falling leaf there is some pain, some beauty. And that's the way new leaves grow." Even the changes that seem to us to be the hardest to accept and the most difficult to get through lead us to something. For some people, I suppose change seems like an enemy - something to be avoided and fought against. We want everything to stay the same, at least in our nice, comfortable little corner of the world. But change shouldn’t be an enemy. Change should be a companion - it should be the thing that leads us into wonder and curiosity, because there will always be something new awaiting us - new adventures, new people, new experiences. As Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians, "if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!" And I’m not convinced that Paul just saw that as a one time thing. He understood that even Christian life was a never ending progression moving us always closer to Christ.

      So it’s right there in the Bible. Change is inevitable. We should be able to embrace it - but, really, we can’t. At least not very often. Change may be inevitable, and it may lead to something good, but we don’t know what the process is going to be for getting us there - and that piece of mystery that’s involved in constant change means that more often than not change is frightening. The reality is that when you’re comfortable and settled, you want things to stay the way they are. Sometimes even if you’re not comfortable and settled, you want things to stay the way they are because you’re afraid they might get worse. "Better the devil you know …" as has been said - although I don’t think I’d want to use that analogy specifically with regard to either Bob or myself! But there is a certain comfort involved in seeing the same faces around you and knowing basically what to expect from them. And when that changes, it can be very unsettling - whether it’s in the church or in life in general. And, while there are many other reasons, maybe that’s at least one reason that God sent Jesus.

      I find myself thinking about an old gospel hymn:

Will your anchor hold in the storms of life,

When the clouds unfold their wings of strife,

When the strong tides lift and the cables strain,

Will your anchor drift or firm remain?

      And then the song goes on: "we have an anchor that keeps the soul steadfast and sure while the billows roll." The anchor is Jesus - the same Jesus who, as we read in Hebrews, "is the same yesterday, today and forever." Sometimes in the midst of all the change swirling around, you need an anchor. Hebrews tells us to "remember [our] leaders" - and I guess Bob and I qualify on that count - but Hebrews emphasizes even more that we need to look to Jesus as our anchor. He’s "the same, yesterday, today and forever." People come and go - music directors and ministers and everybody else quite frankly - but Jesus is always here. He’s the anchor. No matter what other things change, Jesus is always with us.

      It’s been written that "you’ll never be the same person you are now ever again because every day, everything changes." The same thing can be said about the church. It’s never the same week by week. Any congregation on any given Sunday is just a snapshot of that portion of the people of God at that particular moment in time and it can never be perfectly recaptured, because change just keeps coming - and it keeps coming quickly. More quickly as time goes on it seems, and in order to get along, you need something to give you a reference point, a framework, an identity. You can’t know where you’re going or what you’re going to do until you know where you are. Jesus is that for us. He’s the one who is "the same, yesterday, today and forever." He’s the calm in the midst of the storm of change that’s constantly blowing around us. He not only tells us where we are, he tells us whose we are. We are the ever changing children of the unchanging God, who holds us close forever.

June 14 2015 sermon: The Measure Of Success

He also said, "This is what the kingdom of God is like. A man scatters seed on the ground. Night and day, whether he sleeps or gets up, the seed sprouts and grows, though he does not know how. All by itself the soil produces grain - first the stalk, then the head, then the full kernel in the head. As soon as the grain is ripe, he puts the sickle to it, because the harvest has come." Again he said, "What shall we say the kingdom of God is like, or what parable shall we use to describe it? It is like a mustard seed, which is the smallest of all seeds on earth. Yet when planted, it grows and becomes the largest of all garden plants, with such big branches that the birds can perch in its shade." With many similar parables Jesus spoke the word to them, as much as they could understand. He did not say anything to them without using a parable. But when he was alone with his own disciples, he explained everything.

(Mark 4:26-34)

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     I was talking with the children about champions, and how you become a champion. Winning a Stanley Cup helps, I guess. Actually, when you think about sports, winning game in and game out is how you measure success isn’t it. It’s all about the numbers. Whoever scores more goals or more points is the winner. It makes it all pretty simple. It’s all neat and tidy and very, very clear-cut.

     We want it to be that way in the church. We want a worldly and therefore obvious yardstick for measuring the success (and, by extension, the failure) of the church. We want it to be as clear-cut as it is in the world of sports. You win or you lose. You’re a success or you’re a failure. It sounds pretty easy - like something we should be able to do. And yet, if we look at it that way we’re going to get pretty depressed pretty quickly. How do our "numbers" look? Attendance? Finances? Hmmm. And it’s not just us. Pretty much every church has to deal with troubles in attendance or finances. And there’s no magic solution either. If I could give one piece of advice as you look ahead at the next few months - you’re not going to call a new minister and magically solve those problems. It’s an issue with society, and it affects almost all churches. So, what do we do? Do we declare it hopeless, lock the doors, close the church and go about our daily lives? I’d say not. I think we need to figure out a new yardstick for measuring success. After all, this isn’t a hockey game, and there’s no Stanley Cup that’s going to be awarded. Visible signs of success aren’t the real measure of success for a church or a community of faith. In fact, we often wonder what the so-called "mega-churches" are doing right - as if they’re doing something right just because they’re mega-churches, and we seem to easily forget that the measure of success in the church isn’t the number of people in the pews or the amount of dollars in the plate. In fact, Jesus said that the wide gate - the one that most people choose - is not the one that leads to life. That in itself should caution us about looking at numbers as the measure of success. Even in today’s passage, Jesus speaks of the mystery involved in growth: "This is what the kingdom of God is like. A man scatters seed on the ground. Night and day, whether he sleeps or gets up, the seed sprouts and grows, though he does not know how." We don’t really know how success comes about and it isn’t always obvious when it does. A lot of the growth of a plant takes place out of sight, under ground, as roots begin to spread out. We don’t see it, but buried under the soil are the signs of life.

     God works that way. God doesn’t measure things - including people - in worldly terms. There are all sorts of examples of that. Moses said that he couldn’t speak well and couldn’t do God’s work, but God chose him. David was the youngest and smallest of Jesse’s sons, but God chose him. Jeremiah was only a child, but God chose him. Mary was a young, frightened girl, but God chose her. Paul imprisoned, persecuted and murdered Christians, but God chose him. Peter denied Jesus and ran away when the going got tough, but God chose him. God judges people by a different standard than we do, and I suspect that it’s likely that God judges the church by a different standard than we do. And, if we could see things from God’s perspective, I wonder what a difference it would make to the life of the church? Rather than lamenting everything we’ve lost and everything we no longer have and continually looking to the past, I wonder if seeing things from God’s perspective might not allow us to focus on the possibilities and the potential and to look boldly into the future - to reflect not on what was but on what might be; to focus not on what we feel we can’t do but on the things we can do - on the needs around us that we can meet, on the difference we can make in people’s lives. What if we just poured ourselves into ministry and didn’t worry about whether we survived - because, after all, whoever tries to save their life will lose it, Jesus said, but whoever loses their life for his sake will find real life. So perhaps we need to stop fixating on survival - which is going to kill us - and start to think about living - which just might save us.

     I was thinking about this over the last week. Last Wednesday, the United Church of Canada turned 90 years old. We’re pretty young by the standard of many denominations, but we claim a heritage going back to Jesus and the apostles. And we’re struggling. We’re closing a church a week according to the statistics, and most of the churches we do have are declining and aging. We know that. And it would be easy for us to give up in despair - except that I just can’t let go of the thought that just maybe God has a purpose for us - for the United Church of Canada, for Central United Church, for all of us as people of the United Church. God has a purpose for us. It may not be obvious or even visible right now. Plants grow in ways we can’t see. The roots grow underground before we’re aware of any life above ground, and as we all know you can try to get rid of the dandelions, but the chances are they’re going to come back. Life is pretty resilient. Some things go extinct, but life hangs on in surprising places - deep underground, inside volcanoes, at the very bottom of the ocean. If life exists in the strangest of places, then life surely exists in the church, where the risen and living Jesus greets us and guides us. And, surely, that’s the yardstick we use to gauge the success of the church.

     Is Jesus among us? Do we believe he’s here? Do we feel his presence? Do we sense his guidance? Do we listen to his words? Do we follow his example? Do we do his ministry? Do we embrace love and grace and set aside judgment and law? Those are signs of life; those are measures of success. Do we touch the lives of those around us? Do we have an impact on the community around us? Do we do things that would be missed if we weren’t here anymore? Those are signs of life; those are measures of success.

     Basically, do we see the signs of the Holy Spirit among us? That’s the real measure of success. Are we open to the Holy Spirit or have we quenched the Holy Spirit? By that standard, I would say we’re alive and well, even if by worldly standards we’re sometimes struggling. But God doesn’t use worldly standards. God looks at those intangibles I just mentioned and God sees signs of life in them. Eventually, as Jesus said, the seed will sprout and grow, even though we may be able to neither see it nor understand it.

One Rose: A Poem For Lynn

I wrote this out of love for my beautiful wife Lynn on this, our 24th wedding anniversary. It comes from the heart.

ONE ROSE

I saw one rose, and thought:
How perfect!
One rose:
One woman, one partner, one best friend,
One lover, one soulmate.
One rose. There's no need for more.
One rose sums it up:
One life together.
One rose is all I need.
One rose says it all.
One rose.
One love together.
The two become one.
One rose - and all it says about us.