A Thought For The Week Of November 20, 2017

"Come near to God, and God will come near to you. You are sinners. So clean sin out of your lives. You are trying to follow God and the world at the same time. Make your thinking pure." (James 4:8) As I reflect upon this verse I find that it challenges some of my basic assumptions about the nature of our relationship with God. I build a lot of my theological understanding around my perception that the initiative in he divine-human relationship always belongs to God. In other words, it is always God who acts and we who respond to God's actions. That seems pretty clear to me. Indeed, when you think about it everything has to be a response to God because God acted first in the work of creating. And yet, as obvious as that seems I'm suddenly confronted with James' formula in the opening words of this verse: "Come near to God, and God will come near to you." At least from a literal perspective that seems to imply that in some way we have taken the initiative.We have made the choice to come near to God and God has responded by coming near to us. Very challenging, indeed. Many find James to be too works-oriented, and in some ways he does appear to put faith and works at some level on relatively equal terms. So perhaps this simply represents James' bias. And I'd interpret this verse in any event against the clear teachings of Jesus and really of most of Scripture that God is always present with us. Is it really possible (in any tangible way) for us to "come near to God," since God is already with us. In fact, in some real way, God is present everywhere, and if God is everywhere then God is already as close to us as God can possibly be. So the opening verse of this passage can't really be about literal distance, because there is no distance between ourselves and God. So perhaps the issue isn't one of nearness or proximity; perhaps it's a question of openness. Perhaps what James was saying was that if we open ourselves to God's presence, we will be aware of God's presence. Indeed, if we're truly open to God's presence we can't miss it. That's how close God already is to us.

November 19 2017 sermon - That Time Between Awake And Asleep

Now concerning the times and the seasons, brothers and sisters, you do not need to have anything written to you. For you yourselves know very well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night. When they say, “There is peace and security,” then sudden destruction will come upon them, as labor pains come upon a pregnant woman, and there will be no escape! But you, beloved, are not in darkness, for that day to surprise you like a thief; for you are all children of light and children of the day; we are not of the night or of darkness. So then let us not fall asleep as others do, but let us keep awake and be sober; for those who sleep sleep at night, and those who are drunk get drunk at night. But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, and put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation. For God has destined us not for wrath but for obtaining salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live with him. Therefore encourage one another and build up each other, as indeed you are doing.

(1 Thessalonians 5:1-11)

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     It’s night-time. You’re blissfully asleep – or at least you think you are. But you’re consciously aware of the fact that there are visions going through your mind. And suddenly – you’re eyes open. You’re awake. It was a dream. It happens to all of us. On many occasions I’ve awakened suddenly and started laughing uncontrollably because something in a dream was funny. On at least one occasion I can remember waking up suddenly and feeling furious because something in the dream had made me angry, and it took me a few minutes to orient myself and to realize that it was a dream. But we all have them. They happen when you’re not quite awake but you’re also not deep in sleep. They’re somewhere between those two states – that time between awake and asleep. Paul wouldn’t have known that there was such a time. For Paul there was just awake and asleep. We know today that it’s more complicated than that. Sleep studies have shown that when you’re deeply asleep there are changes in your body. Your heart rate goes down, your blood pressure goes down, your breathing slows, your muscles relax and even your brain waves are reduced. But there’s a different kind of sleep. It’s called REM sleep (REM standing for Rapid Eye Movement.) This is when we dream. And, again, things happen in our body. In REM sleep, our eyes move rapidly as if we’re watching something, our heart rates go up, our blood pressure goes up, our breathing gets faster, our muscles start to twitch, our brain waves become stronger and sometimes a bit chaotic. Sometimes we even make noises. If you’ve ever watched a dog sleep – you’ll know exactly what I mean, because they experience the exact same thing. And I wonder – if Paul had known about sleep what we know about sleep – would he have worded things a little bit differently?

     All Paul knew was awake and asleep. In the context of the passage we just heard, Paul was telling the church that it had to remain alert. Even though it appears in the Lectionary for today, this is actually a passage of Scripture that would work very well during the Season of Advent that’s still a couple of weeks away. Be alert, Paul was saying – be awake! - because you just don’t know when God is going to come; you just don’t know how God is going to come; you just don’t know exactly what God is going to do – so be alert! Be awake! That was his point. Because as far as he knew the only alternative to that was to be asleep – to be totally oblivious to the goings on around you, to not be watching or watchful, to be oblivious to the signs of God’s presence and to the impact of God’s actions in the world around us and even in our own lives. To be asleep is to live as though God doesn’t matter, as though God isn’t here, as though God isn’t coming. For Paul that was the clear and only choice – awake or asleep? Aware or oblivious? Watchful or Blind? That was it. But if he had lived today and if he had known all that we know, I kind of suspect he might have worded the passage a little bit differently. I suspect that he would have come down on the side of dreaming.

     You see, there are problems with the church being fully awake as much as there are with it being fully asleep. Paul understood the problem of being deeply asleep. Simply put – you might miss something. You might miss something vital. It’s like falling asleep while you’re watching a hockey game. The last thing you remember your team was losing 2-0, and suddenly you wake up and your team is ahead 4-2. Obviously you’ve missed something pretty significant, and as much as you might see replays or be able to check out the scoring summary to see what happened you can never really have the experience. It’s the same with the activity of God. You might be able to discern after the fact that God was present in this or that event, but if you missed the event itself because you just weren’t paying attention somehow it’s not the same thing. It’s like the disciples falling asleep while Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane. They missed out on the chance to offer Jesus some support and comfort. Thomas wasn’t in the upper room when the resurrected Jesus first appeared and he had a hard time believing that it could have happened. Many in Nazareth watched Jesus grow up, but they hadn’t been present when he was born with signs all around, and they were reduced to saying “isn’t he just a carpenter’s son?” You can miss so much when you fall asleep. We don’t want the church to be that asleep.

     But you can miss a lot when you’re fully awake too. When you’re fully awake maybe you’re just a little bit too alert. Maybe you get just a little bit too fixated on the details around you. Maybe you become obsessed with the problems and the challenges and the limitations that sometimes seem to be all around. Sometimes being too awake can actually blind you to reality or paralyze you from taking action, because whatever it is that you feel the need to take action in response to seems so overwhelming that we don’t think we can make much of a difference. Sometimes I think we can be so awake that we’re actually blinded to the possibilities that are right in front of you. Which is why I think that, if Paul had known about sleep what we know about sleep today, what he might have said is not “stay awake!” but rather “dream some dreams!” I think that Paul might have wanted the church (at least every now and then) to experience some REM sleep – to inhabit that time between awake and asleep. And that’s because the church really needs to dream some dreams.

     It’s believed that dreaming has some very positive effects on people. Many believe that it’s when we dream that we’re actually processing memories, sorting out things that puzzle us, coming to terms with our hopes and fears, dealing with our past, looking into our future. I mentioned the physical changes that happen to us when we dream – the increased heart rate and blood pressure, etc. Sometimes they actually rise above normal. You could say that it’s when we’re dreaming that we’re really the most awake. Is it any wonder that the pages of the Bible are filled with accounts of God speaking to people through dreams. From beginning to end, from Genesis to Revelation, the pages of the Bible are filled with accounts of people receiving dreams and visions that turn out to be messages from or revelations of God. It’s in that dream state when we’re most open to hearing what God is calling us to. When we’re deeply asleep we’re oblivious to God’s call and when we’re fully awake God’s call can be crowded out among all the other things that are happening. But when we dream – when we’re in that time between awake and asleep – we’re open vessels ready to be filled. Problems give way to solutions; challenges become opportunities; limitations become possibilities. The church needs to dream some dreams.

     Yes – there are times when the church needs to be awake – fully awake, because it’s only when we’re fully awake that we can become aware of the world around us, and as the people of God we are called to respond to what’s happening around us and to reach out to those in need and to extend an open hand of welcome and acceptance to those who may feel cast aside. Yes – there are times when the church needs to be asleep – deeply asleep – because we can’t do everything all the time and sometimes  a step back and a time to regroup is appropriate and necessary. But mostly I think the church needs to be dreaming dreams. I think we need to be open to God’s presence and available for God’s call and willing to do God’s work. That’s what dreaming is all about. That’s what it means to inhabit the time between awake and asleep.

A Thought For The Week Of November 13, 2017

"As the bridegroom was delayed, all of them became drowsy and slept." (Matthew 25:5) I have to confess that I find the parable of the ten virgins to be perhaps the strangest parable Jesus ever offered. There's a lot I could say about the parable, which leads up to the idea of consequences for not being sufficiently prepared - certainly a worthy subject as Advent, with its focus on preparation, approaches. But I want to focus on verse 5. The parable begins by giving the impression that the five virgins with oil for their lamps were the faithful and prepared ones, while the five without oil for their lamps were unfaithful and unprepared. I can understand where that interpretation comes from - but what's strange is that at least at this point the parable actually makes no real distinction between the two groups. Some had oil and some didn't; some may have had more understanding than others - but what it all came down to was written in verse 5, which tells us that "all of them became drowsy and fell asleep." All of them! I'm fascinated that all of them had this problem. It didn't matter that some were more prepared than others. In the end, none of them could remain fully faithful. That puts me in mind of the tendency of a lot of Christians to want to divide the Christian community into the "good" or "true" Christians (in other words, "us") and the "bad" or "fake" Christians (in other words, "them.") You could divide up the ten virgins in the same way. They were "prepared" or "unprepared" (and those with the oil were probably mighty proud of themselves that they had thought to bring it when the others had forgotten) but in the end that distinction didn't seem to matter too much. Ultimately, none of them were as good as they should have been and all of them fell short. Which is surely a warning to them all. No matter how well prepared we think we are; no matter how faithful and pious we may feel ourselves to be - we're probably not prepared or faithful enough. Any or all of us could get caught by surprise when God finally appears. That's why, in the end, all we really have to fall back on with assurance is the grace of God. Because no matter how faithful or prepared we may think we are, we're probably never faithful or prepared enough.

A Thought For The Week Of November 6, 2017

"Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ ..." (Romans 5:1) We are "justified through faith." That's a pretty classic doctrine and there are times when I find myself wondering what - exactly - it means. In conversations I've been involved in the dispute has become whether this doesn't actually make faith a sort of "work" that we perform in order to attain God's favour. In other words, does it become a part of law? You know something is law if the sentence starts with "if." "If you have faith, then I will save you." In other words, it's a conditional salvation - conditional on us having faith. It's also an exclusionary concept, in that it places outside salvation anyone who doesn't have faith - and, more specifically, faith in Jesus. Since it was Paul who wrote this, perhaps it's only Paul who can truly explain how he saw the relationship between faith and law - and Paul, I think, gets into the issue a bit in another place (1 Corinthians) by explaining that faith is a gift from God. So faith can't be a work, because it's not something we generate within ourselves; it's not something we achieve. It's something that God gives us. It becomes grace. You know something is grace if the sentence starts with "because." So the formula changes from "If you have faith, I will save you," to "because I have given you faith, you are saved." This reinforces that it's God who acts. Always. Not us, but God. The initiative always rests in God's hands. We simply respond to what God is already doing in us and around us. That's important if we believe in a God of grace and if we believe that grace is what's operative. That's why the classic Protestant statement was never simply "salvation through faith," but has always been "salvation by grace through faith alone," which is the biblical formula found in Ephesians. And, in context, "faith alone" was really in opposition to the idea of salvation by works. Paul probably wasn't thinking of people of other religious faiths. He was stating that grace - God's action - always comes first. Indeed, faith is impossible apart from the grace of God. Is Paul saying that anyone who doesn't have faith in Christ is outside of the grace of God? That's hard to say. He's writing to Christians, of course, so the issue of salvation for those outside Christ isn't the heart of the matter for him. Not here at least. And I think it best to take the same approach. After all, as followers of Jesus we proclaim grace and not law. We do not judge or condemn. We are not competent to do so. But neither should we offer false promises or empty security. We are to proclaim assurance - and what Paul did know, and what Paul proclaimed was that there was salvation found in Christ - by grace, through faith alone.

November 5 sermon - The Hope Of Eden Restored

For I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind. But be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating; for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy, and its people as a delight. I will rejoice in Jerusalem, and delight in my people; no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it, or the cry of distress. No more shall there be in it an infant that lives but a few days, or an old person who does not live out a lifetime; for one who dies at a hundred years will be considered a youth, and one who falls short of a hundred will be considered accursed. They shall build houses and inhabit them; they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit. They shall not build and another inhabit; they shall not plant and another eat; for like the days of a tree shall the days of my people be, and my chosen shall long enjoy the work of their hands. They shall not labor in vain, or bear children for calamity; for they shall be offspring blessed by the Lord - and their descendants as well. Before they call I will answer, while they are yet speaking I will hear. The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, the lion shall eat straw like the ox; but the serpent - its food shall be dust! They shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain, says the Lord.

(Isaiah 65:17-25)

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     “Eden.” The word, I hope, brings to your mind a certain image. A garden. Beautiful and lush and peaceful, where there is neither violence nor hatred, and where all God’s creation exists in a perfectly balanced harmony. A place where everything – including humanity - is exactly as God intended it – and us – to be. I hope that the word “Eden” brings that kind of image into your mind because, you see, I tend to think of the story of creation in the Book of Genesis as an icon. I don’t take it literally. It doesn’t matter to me if there was a literal Adam and Eve, or how humanity came to be, or if everything was created in 6 days. I think that the creation story (and really much of the first 11 chapters of the Bible) is in the nature of a parable – similar to the ones Jesus told. Stories that are intended to be taken seriously but not literally; stories that reveal to us not exactly how things came to be but that rather teach us the nature of what came to be; that tell us something about ourselves and the world and the universe we inhabit, and that – perhaps most importantly – teach us something about God: God’s nature, God’s purpose, maybe even God’s dreams. The creation story is an icon. It helps us to focus our attention on God but it wasn’t, in my opinion at least, ever intended to provoke us to get bogged down in minutiae over the Big Bang Theory or the theory of evolution, or whatever is the latest in the ridiculous battle between science and faith. What does the story of creation reveal to us? What does “Eden” tell us? That’s what’s important?

     It seemed to me that this iconic image of Eden – this image that reminds us that God’s desire and God’s plan is for a peaceful world – is especially relevant to us on Remembrance Sunday. I think of the act of remembrance that we all just participated in as we honoured those who have died in the various military engagements our nation has fought in – the Boer War, World War I, World War II, Korea, various peacekeeping missions, Afghanistan. And I think of the words of John McCrae’s famous poem: “… if ye break faith with us who die ...” He wrote that poem in 1915, after the Second Battle of Ypres. Although we usually think of the Battle of Vimy Ridge as the event that sealed Canada’s sense of nationhood if you will, the Second Battle of Ypres was also important. It was fought for the Allies largely by the 1st Canadian Division, and it was an Allied victory – and it represented the very first time that soldiers of a former colonial possession had defeated a European army on European soil. But it was also another of the almost unending succession of increasingly meaningless but bloody battles that characterized the First World War. In the midst of the chaos and blood that enveloped those European battlefields of 100 years ago was the great hope – that this war, finally, was “the war to end all wars.” Soldiers fought and died, believing that even if the individual battles at times seemed meaningless, and even if their lives came to an end, the cause for which they fought – to finally end all war – was a noble and worthy one. And when I think about those words of McCrae more than a century later - “… if ye break faith with us who die ...” - I’m forced to the realization that succeeding generations did, in fact, break faith with those who died. Because World War I was not, as we know, the war to end all wars. Wars continue to this present day, and they show no sign of disappearing. The human capacity for greed and hatred seem to make it almost second nature that, among nations at least, if one country has what another country wants, there will be a war over it. Have we broken faith with those who died in the Second Battle of Ypres, and in all the battles that were supposed to be a part of that “war to end all wars?” It’s pretty hard to argue that we haven’t.

     But it isn’t only those soldiers with whom we’ve broken faith. I’d suggest that we’ve also broken faith with God, who created a peaceful world in perfect balance, only to see humanity break both that peace and that balance to lead us to the present day, where, quite frankly, we face either annihilation by the weapons we’ve created or annihilation by the climate we’ve created. So, let me ask - have we broken faith with God? It’s pretty hard to argue that the answer to that question is anything but “yes.” As noble as the goals of many people over the centuries may have been, the reality is that we have not done away with war, soldiers and civilians still die, weapons are still produced and headlines still scream out warnings from one country to another, threatening war and destruction that would (if it ever happened) impact the entire world in a way that no war has ever done before. Human nature seems unable to restrain itself. So, is there hope? Might we some day be able to look out upon a world at peace? An Eden restored? Creation brought back to its original nature – which God declared in Genesis to be “very good.” Here is where we turn to the words of the prophet Isaiah.

     Isaiah offers us hope. Isaiah lived in a troubled time in which – just like our own – not all was as God wanted it to be. But Isaiah understood the concept of hope. He understood the need for people to be able to look at the mess around them and still be able to see a glimmer of light at the end of a very dark tunnel. And he managed to describe this wonderful vision in words that help us to get a sense of what real life – and real eternity! - are like. It’s a place of perfect peace and of perfect intimacy with God. Like the description of Eden in the beginning in Genesis 1 it’s the place where God is with us, almost as if God is walking alongside us and like the description of the new heaven and the new earth in Revelation 22 it’s the place where there is no darkness – not the darkness caused by the lack of light, nor the darkness caused by the clouds of war -  and where there’s no need for any such thing as a temple to point us to God, because God is right there with us - “Before they call I will answer, while they are yet speaking I will hear.” Isaiah offers us a portrait of a reality in which we will enjoy a never-ending life of great abundance, and where there will be perfect peace with all around – even “the wolf and the lamb shall feed together, the lion shall eat straw like the ox; but the serpent - its food shall be dust! They shall not hurt or destroy on all [God’s] holy mountain ...” This is what God points us to. This is a promise; this is a hope. In fact, this is what hope truly is – the belief in what is going to be, rather than just wishing for what might be or yearning for what was.

     Our great hope is in a restored Eden. Our great hope is that the God who created the universe in a state of perfection will also be able to return it to that state of perfection. Let us understand, though – we may wait for God, but we are not let off the hook for our responsibility to work for a better and more just and peaceful world. In fact, it’s that very knowledge of what God is going to do that motivates us to do as much as we can for now to live with love and in peace with all those around us. We can share Isaiah’s words and vision and speak of God’s love, but we also need to act. As Eleanor Roosevelt said after the Second World War while she was serving as a US delegate to the United Nations and as the Cold War was beginning to set in, “It isn't enough to talk about peace. One must believe in it. And it isn't enough to believe in it. One must work at it.” In a way, we await the restoration of Eden. Humanity may have broken faith with those whose lives were lost in the great “war to end all wars,” but God never breaks faith with any of us. But we don’t just wait. We do what we can. We are called to be like Isaiah – to paint a portrait of what the restored Eden is going to be like, and to issue a challenge to both ourselves and to others to create something as close to it as possible in the here and now. May we not break faith with those who died. May we remember their sacrifice and their cause. May we work to make war and violence a thing of the past. May we work for a restored Eden.

A Thought For The Week Of October 30, 2017

"The Lord said to Moses, 'Send some men to explore the land of Canaan, which I am giving to the Israelites.' ... Then Caleb silenced the people before Moses and said, “We should go up and take possession of the land, for we can certainly do it.'" (Numbers 13:1 & 30) There's an interesting contrast in these two verses - the words of God to Moses and the words of Caleb to the people - and I think they have something to say to us today. God's command to Moses was that the people should go into the promised land of Canaan and explore it. They should learn about the land and its inhabitants. There's no doubt that they were going as spies and preparing for conquest, but still - that's a risky thing in some ways because by exploring - by seeking to learn - it's possible that they might actually develop some respect for the land and its inhabitants that could get in the way of their plans for conquest. Caleb seemed to understand that danger. He shared none of that stuff about exploring. Once he heard the initial reports, there was no desire on his part to get to know the land or its people any deeper. "It's ours. Let's go and take it. No one can stop us." That was his attitude. Do you see the difference? Which version, tragically, is generally listened to? Unfortunately, we usually choose the way of Caleb when dealing with such things. It has often become our go-to way of dealing with people of other lands and cultures. We don't bother to learn about other people and their land. Or we learn as little as possible - and usually only enough to be able to take advantage of their weaknesses - and then we just go and take exploit it (and them) for our own benefit. That's a pattern of history. We have obvious examples of that here in North America with the history of European colonization, with tragic results for the native peoples. There was little respect; little attempt to learn about native culture. There was simply a belief that this was a land that God had given "us" - no matter that there were people already here whose land it was. This was covetousness (a violation of the Tenth Commandment) at its finest - or worst! And it isn't just in North America. We see it happen all over the world and across cultures. It is, indeed, an interesting contrast we find in these two verses - with an interesting suggestion inherent in it for how we should treat other people: by trying to learn about them rather than fearing them, exploiting them or taking from them. This would be giving glory to God!

October 29 sermon: Becoming ...

For we know only in part, and we prophesy only in part; but when the complete comes, the partial will come to an end. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.

(1 Corinthians 13:9-13)

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. 

(John 1:1-5)

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     Two hundred years. That’s a long time. Although I guess it’s all relative. I’ve been to places like England and China and seen buildings and castles and walls, etc. that are a lot older than that – but, from our perspective here in North America, two hundred years seems a long time to have been serving God. None of us have been around all that time, of course – although there may be days when it feels like it. I’ve only been here a little over two years. That’s 1% of that history – and that’s the first time (and probably the only time) that I’ll ever be counted as a member of the 1%!

     I’ve done a little bit of historical research over the last little while. In most ways that would normally be considered noteworthy, 1817 was not a particularly eventful year. Except, perhaps, in this part of the world – because, friends, while I consider myself to be largely a Calvinist, I received my doctorate from a Methodist seminary, and I have to say that when the Methodists show up you know great things are going to follow! Considering the last 200 years and looking around today, I think it’s safe to say that, indeed, great things have followed. The last two hundred years for this congregation and its predecessors have not always been easy years. In both church and society there have been many challenges to face and to overcome – and there remain challenges to face and to overcome. The society we try to reach out to today is not the same society that those first Methodists tried to reach out to in 1817, or even that our own United Church predecessors tried to reach out to in 1925 or fifty years ago or even twenty years ago. Society changes; culture changes – and, always, the church is faced with the tension of on the one hand having to change to remain relevant and on the other hand having eternal truths about an eternal and unchanging God that we need to proclaim. That’s not an easy task – and it’s no surprise that there are often bumps along the way. Those who two hundred years ago began the journey that would eventually lead to Pickering Village United Church and to our gathering here today had no idea, of course, what the future would hold. They couldn’t have had any idea of the various twists and turns and developments that would lead to October 29, 2017 – some of which we saw played out just a few minutes ago. But if they didn’t know what the future held, what they would have known was who held the future. As an old gospel hymn says, “Many things about tomorrow I don’t need to understand, but I know who holds tomorrow, and I know who holds my hand.”

    Our ancestors in the faith trusted that God would guide them to – well – wherever it was that God wanted them to be, and that God would transform them into whatever it was that God wanted them to become – all so that they could be of service to God and to God’s people. And they become our example for today; a people of faith who trusted God with the future. Sometimes we have a tendency to measure either our success or our faithfulness by what’s happening in the present; by the immediate impact of whatever it is that we’re doing. So our “success” is defined by how much money there is in the bank or how many folks there are in the pews or by how many mission projects we’re involved with. I don’t deny that those things are important, but are they really the measure of the success of the church? I think the church that’s successful is not necessarily the church that’s doing a lot of “stuff” or that has a lot of money or whose pews are full, but is rather the church that trusts God with the future. Otherwise we spend our time fearing the present, worrying that we might try something that doesn’t work, wondering if somehow and in some way we might be responsible for the failure of the gospel. And while the example of faithful saints from our past should inspire us, I do find myself wondering if sometimes it holds us back.

     We live, admittedly, in a difficult era for the church. No one would dispute that. And because we face difficulties, rather than faithfully serving and trusting God with the future, we sometimes have a tendency to fearfully serve and fall into nostalgia for the past. I hear it all the time. “I remember when ...” And usually what follows is not a celebration of the past, but a lament for the present. “Things aren’t as good as they used to be”; “If only we could be like that again.” Sometimes the past holds us captive, because we yearn to return to it – a better time; a simpler time – instead of looking ahead. But we will never return to the past, and so we should not allow the past to become a prison; the past should be an example and an an inspiration as we move confidently and faithfully into the future.

     We, as much as the Methodists of 1817, are in the process of becoming. We are becoming what God wants us to be; we are being transformed into whatever will serve God’s purposes best. Paul, I think, has a good perspective on the future in 1 Corinthians. That reading is taken from the famous “wedding” passage about love. It’s read at almost every wedding you’ll ever attend – and the ironic thing is that marriage was the last thing on Paul’s mind when he wrote it. In context, Paul was writing about spiritual gifts and how to use them. The gifts God gives us should be used always in love and for the best interest of the community and not for self-aggrandizement. And then he thought about what the future held; he reflected on what those Christians were becoming - “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully ...” Paul understood what “becoming” was all about. He understood that whatever we may be now, we are only a shadow of what we will be one day as God continues to create and re-create us; to mold us into what we are called to be; to lead us into our destiny.

     The past is a part of that. We build on the foundation of those who came before us in faith, of the apostles and prophets, and of Jesus himself. We build on the foundation of the church’s teaching and witness and mission. We build on the foundation of the Scriptures. And these things – if we hold to them – don’t lock us into the past, they propel us into the future as people who know that we have a God-given calling to fulfil that we are living into each and every day, even if the challenges sometimes seem overwhelming and perhaps at times even insurmountable. And so they are if we deal with our challenges by our own strength and with faith only in our own ability to navigate through them. But we do not depend on ourselves. We depend on the God who has been with this congregation and its people throughout the least two hundred years. And, depending on God, we know that we will one day arrive at where we are destined to be – then we will see face to face; then we will know fully. But for now, we trust, and we go about God’s work not to save ourselves in the present or to safeguard our future – those things we leave in God’s hands – but simply as a grateful response to the faithfulness God has shown to us over the last two centuries.

     Natalie Sleeth’s hymn, which we sang just a few minutes ago, reminds us that “from the past will come the future; what it holds a mystery, unrevealed until its season something God alone can see.” Friends, we do not know what the future holds. What we do know is that – with God’s help – we are becoming the future. And perhaps 200 years from now another group of people will gather somewhere in this area to celebrate their 400th anniversary – and we will be among their past as they continue the process of becoming. I think back to the words of our Gospel reading earlier:

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

     We are now that light, bearing faithful witness to the Word, becoming whatever it is that God calls us to be. May we move forward – always in faith, always with love, always becoming, until we see face to face, and know fully; until the partial ends and the complete comes; until God’s Kingdom is established among us and among all God’s children. Amen.