Text: Acts 2 1-21 (the Day of Pentecost)
Today is Pentecost -- the birthday of the church, born almost 2,000 years ago in the wind and fire of God's Spirit. So today, a sermon on the church . . .
While I was in Edmonton last week, I went to Sunday worship at a Roman Catholic church with my younger sister and a mutual friend. We went because our friend had loved a man named Kevin whose funeral will be held in that church later this week. Kevin faced many challenges in his life, including poverty and addiction. But in his later years, he had found a new life of sobriety and love, in part through his connection to this Roman Catholic parish.
The church is called Sacred Heart Church of the First Peoples. Most of its members are of First Nations descent, although the priest, Father Jim Holland, is from North Carolina and of European descent. Sacred Heart is located in one of the poorer neighbourhoods of downtown Edmonton, and I was pleased to worship there.
We went to the second of three Sunday services, and it was packed – perhaps 300 people in all. Sweetgrass and sage were burning; a huge medicine wheel wrapped in the colours of the four directions was displayed at the back of the chancel; native paintings of the life of Jesus adorned the walls; and a statue of the Virgin Mary was draped with a shawl, which looked like it was from native Guatemala.
I didn't love everything about the service. Like most Roman Catholic masses, the 1700-year-old Nicene Creed was recited during the service, which is a practice I don't like. Then there was Father Jim's sermon, which was only about five minutes long. And as you can tell from my services, I consider that to be too short! Finally, the Gospel reading for last Sunday's celebration of the Ascension of Jesus was one that never appears in the Revised Common Lectionary used in most Protestant churches, including the United Church.
The reading was from the disputed longer ending of the Gospel of Mark -- Mark 16, verses 9-20. All reputable scholars declare these verses to be a later addition to Mark by scribes. Perhaps these scribes wanted to bring Mark into line with the other three Gospels. Perhaps they did not like the downbeat ending that Mark had given his Gospel. Some of you may remember that I preached on this downbeat ending --- Mark 16, verses 1-8 -- on Easter Sunday six weeks ago.
At that time, I did a search on the official website of the Revised Common Lectionary, which confirmed my guess that its creators never included readings from the disputed last 11 verses of Mark. Our Lectionary is based upon the Roman Catholic one, so I also assumed that these controversial passages were never read in Catholic churches. But last Sunday's service showed that I was wrong. Catholic churches read from these verses when celebrating the Ascension of Jesus.
Beyond being what I consider to be an illegitimate part of the Bible, the passage read last week in Roman Catholic churches around the world contains a detail that seem ridiculous to me. The risen Jesus commands his followers to perform the miraculous signs of handling dangerous snakes and drinking deadly poison in order to show the power of their faith.
I was pleased that Father Jim preached against this text. But given that we now know that Mark didn't write it, why bother reading it in the first place?
The Bible is a huge and amazing collection of ancient stories, poems, and songs written by 100 or so mostly anonymous Jewish leaders over a period of about 1,000 years. But when Jesus ascended to heaven, he did not leave his disciples the Bible. Instead, he left them God's Holy Spirit, which fell on them like wind and fire at the celebration of the Jewish festival of Pentecost in Jerusalem after Jesus' ascension almost 2,000 years ago.
The church is founded on this Spirit and not on the Bible. Liberal churches treat the Bible like any other text, as a product of history. We research and study it in order to help us find meaning in it for our lives as Christians today.
On the other hand, there is part of me that appreciates the Roman Catholic Church's disregard of biblical scholarship about the Gospel of Mark. There are a lot of troubling biblical passages that many of us would rather ignore. But anxiety can be a barrier to faith, including being anxious about who wrote what in the Bible and whether we should use a passage in worship.
The Protestant churches of the last 500 years ago have always taken the Bible more seriously than the Catholic Church. When we broke from the Catholic Church, Protestants led a spiritual revival that came from translating, printing, and studying the Bible. Unfortunately, along with this revival also came anxiety about "getting it right" -- in our scholarship, our worship, and our understanding of these texts.
Perhaps, then, my dismay that the Catholic Church still includes Mark 16 verses 9-20 in its worship life reflects my anxiety more than it reflects a real problem.
Nevertheless, my dismay remains. I also feel something similar about the Nicene Creed. In a class at Emmanuel College a few years ago, we talked about this creed based on a line from the United Church of Canada's 1925 Basis of Union: "We acknowledge the teaching of the great creeds of the ancient Church," it reads. Some of us who dislike the ancient creeds questioned this part of the Basis of Union. Our professor countered that at least these creeds came from a time when the Christian church was united.
In turn, I replied that the unity of the church in the Fourth and Fifth centuries was created from above by the Roman emperors who had adopted Christianity as the state religion at that time. They used the terrible power of the imperial state to create one universal church out of many.
From the time of the birth of the church at the festival of Pentecost in the Year 30 until 300 years later when Emperor Constantine called the Council of Nicea at which the Nicene Creed was adopted, the early church was wildly diverse. Each city had its own unique type of Christianity. They each used different Scriptures, had different theologies, and worshipped in different ways. The diversity of the church in its first 300 years was much greater than the diversity we see today between liberal denominations like the United Church, traditional churches like the Roman Catholics and Anglicans, and conservative ones like the Alliance or Lutheran churches.
Unity came after Emperor Constantine and his successors decreed it. But it was a unity built by murder, torture, jails, book burning, and other coercive measures of the brutal Roman state. For this reason alone, I never recite the Nicene Creed or the others that followed it. They remind me of the time when the church was captured by the state 300 years after Jesus. They remind of the time when the Holy Spirit that descended on Peter and the other disciples at Pentecost in that first Easter season was replaced by a spirit of war, conquest and conformity.
Now, Sacred Heart in Edmonton is not a place of coercion or war. I loved the atmosphere of the worship and the singing, which was in both English and Cree. I loved the fact that Father Jim smudged before celebrating communion. I loved the beauty of the space and the warm spirit of the faithful who had gathered there. I believe that other churches could learn a lot from Sacred Heart, especially its outreach to the poor and marginal people in its neighbourhood.
Nevertheless, the Scripture and creed used there last week reminded me of the sorry history of our church for much of the last 1700 years. From the year 325 until well into the 20th Century, the Christian church was not just a place of healing, love and mission in the name and Spirit of Jesus. It was also an instrument of state power. The church was not just a place where the God who is Love was worshipped. It was also a place where the Bible or the nation were worshipped instead.
We believe that the Holy Spirit is available to us in any moment. We seek it in worship and in mission. But the Holy Spirit is not the only one that beckons to us. The history of the church from the late Roman Empire through the Protestant and Catholic European empires that succeeded it shows us that our church can be captured by the spirit of war and conquest as well as by the Spirit of Truth and love.
No church can claim purity. No one of us can ever know if we are correctly discerning the spirits that compete for our allegiance. But when the church becomes a vehicle for Empire and its terrible wars, as it did for many centuries, then the promise of Pentecost with its vision of salvation becomes instead a nightmare of pain and conquest.
So what can be done? If Pentecost is the birthday of the church, then I fear that my birthday greetings today are pretty grim.
The good news is that grace and forgiveness are available not just to individuals but to institutions like the church as well. As a human institution, the church will often get things wrong, even disastrously wrong as when it uses the violence of the state to further its own ends. But a church that is sometimes captured by nationalism or war can still be a place where grace is preached and grace is found. A church that sometimes worships the Bible as an idol instead of the God who is Love, can still be a place where grace is preached and grace is found.
Last Sunday at Sacred Heart, I detected traces of empire and idolatry. But I also experienced a place where God's Spirit of Truth and Love was alive and well. This helped me understand how someone like Kevin could have his heart opened to God there and could find a community in which to turn away from addiction and towards love and service.
It is the same in this United Church today as well, I believe. We are all holy fools and broken sinners trying to respond to the flame and breath of God's Spirit. We hope and trust that this Spirit leads us to the God who is Love. We won't always get it right. We may sometimes get it disastrously wrong. But in the end, we trust that the Holy Spirit will lead us home to God -- for us as individuals, for the church as a human institution, and for the whole of God's groaning creation.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Commanded to love
Texts: 1 John 4 7-21 (God is Love); John 15 9-17 (commanded to love)
"Love, love, love. All you need is love." So sang the Beatles in June 1967 in the world's first live satellite TV broadcast. Their song came to my mind as I thought about today's Gospel reading in which Jesus commands his friends to love each other and our reading from First John that reminds us that God is Love.
I remember that 1967 satellite broadcast -- I was 10 at the time -- the novelty of it, and the excitement we felt to be part of it. 400 million people watched around the world, which meant it was the biggest TV audience to that time. I also remember being disappointed in this Beatles song, despite its popularity and its message. By 1967, the Beatles were at the peak of their popularity and they were revolutionizing popular culture. But "All you need is love" was one of their simpler songs both in its music and its words -- too simple, I thought.
Given that the Beatles had just released "Sgt. Pepper's," which is arguably the most influential pop album of all time, I can understand my disappointment. Of course, none of us would disagree with the message "All you need is love." But in its simplicity, the song does not hint at the difficulties many of us have in finding love, giving love, and living a life that reflects God's love.
The music of the Beatles was central to the latest episode of "Mad Men," which was broadcast this past Sunday night. The year is 1966, and the executives of an advertising agency in New York City are trying to find a Beatles-like song for one of their clients. The lead character, Don Draper, at age 40, feels out of touch with the youth culture of his time. So he turns to his 26-year old wife, Megan, for help. At the end of the episode, she hands him the latest Beatles album, "Revolver," which happens to be my personal favourite, and she directs him to the final cut. This song, "Tomorrow Never Knows" plays over the end credits of the episode.
In "Tomorrow Never Knows," John Lennon again makes a simple statement about love, singing "Love is all and love is everyone." But the music, which uses Indian rhythms and sitars, and the rest of its psychedelic lyrics are more complex and evocative than "All is You Need is Love." Here are those lyrics:
"Turn off your mind, relax and float down stream. It is not dying, it is not dying. Lay down all thought, surrender to the void. Is it shining? Is it shining? That you may see the meaning of within. It is being, it is being. Love is all and love is everyone. Is it knowing? Is it knowing? That ignorance and hate may mourn the dead. It is believing, it is believing. But listen to the colour of your dreams. Is it not living, is it not living. Or play the game "Existence" to the end. Of the beginning, of the beginning."
It could be true that all we need is love, for God is love, and Jesus commands us to love one another. But in the puzzling poetry of "Tomorrow Never Knows," Lennon in 1966 hints at the complexities of life and love in a way than his 1967 song does not.
This morning, nine young people in our communities commit their lives to the God who is Love and pledge to follow in the way of Jesus on his path of faith, hope and love. This commitment does not mean that they now know all there is to know about love. None of us could ever make that claim. What it does do is officially admit them to the church's longstanding and never-ending conversation about love.
Love is our most sacred value. Despite its difficulties and complexities, we believe that love is our source, our calling and our destiny. We carry on a never-ending conversation about love in the church because the topic is too important, too difficult and too interesting to ever stop. In this conversation, we stand on the traditions of centuries and use the inexhaustible source of the books of the Bible to inspire and guide us.
Today's sermon is just a small part of that ongoing conversation. By discussing two of our Scripture readings from today, I try to point to this centuries-old, sometimes frustrating, and always important conversation about the God who is Love and about the way of Love shown to us by Jesus.
Given the importance of love in our lives, why does Jesus command his friends and us to love one another in today's reading from the Gospel of John? Can we not just love each other without prompting? Is love really that difficult?
Jesus is speaking to his friends at their Last Supper on the night before his death. In this passage, he does not repeat his earlier commandment to love one's neighbour as oneself, nor his difficult commandment from the Sermon on the Mount to love one's enemies. At the Last Supper, his command to this small band of dedicated students is simply that they love each other. This chosen family of friends will later will become the kernel of the early church.
I can understand why it can be difficult to love one's neighbours as oneself; and how very difficult it can be to love one's enemies. But surely in a family of chosen friends, we don't need to be reminded to love one another. Or do we?
Life, for all the we adore about it, is often not easy. In all loving families, there are moments of conflict and hurt. In all lives, there are moments of pain and fear. We all have to live within the boundaries of what is possible in our times. Though we may strain against these boundaries, they exist.
When Jesus spoke to his friends, he was well aware of the terrible boundaries that surrounded him. Jesus knew that later that night, one of his friends would betray him and that the next day, the Roman Empire, which had occupied and oppressed his people for a century, would torture and kill him. Despite these terrible conditions, Jesus showed to his friends a way of service, love, compassion and joy.
Today, most of us don't live in such fearful circumstances. Nevertheless, we still have much to fear. Despite the peace that exists in Canada, our world is filled with violence, war, and terrorism. Despite the prosperity that most Canadians enjoy, many of us struggle, and billions around the world suffer needlessly. Despite all the opportunities that exist for young people like those being confirmed today, there are many forces that restricts us and make finding and giving love more difficult that we wish it were.
These difficulties are some of the reasons why Jesus' words to his friends are still relevant to us today. Talking about them can be an occasion for us to discuss what facilitates love and what continues to make it difficult.
I was glad that another of today's readings is the one from First John. It contains the simple and important statement that God is Love. But it also contains much that I find puzzling and challenging. It talks about perfect love casting out fear, the atoning sacrifice of Jesus, and the connection between loving brothers and sisters and love of God. I imagine that it contains a whole universe of possible meanings. But like much in the Bible, I do not find it easy to understand.
Christians give authority to the Bible on big questions like Love. In particular, we give authority to the words of Jesus since he is the Holy One who was shown us the path to love most clearly.
But the authority we give to the Bible does not mean that it contains easy answers, which we can simply read off of it. It has authority because it inspires our worship, our service, our social justice work -- and our conversations.
People of my generation gave the Beatles authority in terms of pop and rock music. This did not mean that all musical truth was found in their music nor that the lyrics of their songs contained all the truth one could ever want to know about love. It means that many of us found a never-ending source of inspiration and interpretation in their music and that this fuelled our own music and our conversations.
Likewise, we come to the Church to discuss readings from the Bible not because they contain all the answers -- that would be too easy and would therefore not be believable. We come to the church and the Bible because we need help with the difficulties of life; and because generations before us have given us the treasure of their ever-changing and growing conversations that centre on the Bible, and on the God of Love in Christ to which the Bible points.
Church is a place where small or large groups worship together to try and clarify our values and remind ourselves of the Way of the Cross. In church, we seek God's grace to make it a place of humble service, for it is in serving one another that we are reminded of the gift of community and are taken out of our small concerns into the large concerns of God's Spirit. We seek God's grace to make church a place to discuss social problems and resist forces that lead to violence, habitat destruction, or the other diseases of our times.
At church we hope to find companions for the journey. At church, we hope to find others who see in Jesus a reason to trust life despite the many things of which we are afraid. At church we hope to find others who want to serve the community and resist social injustice. And so we give thanks for this community of faith and others like it around the world.
In a few moments, nine of you will officially join the church by reaffirming the vows made on your behalf as infants when you were baptized. In doing so, you take a small but important step forward on God's path of faith, hope and love. Among other things, we hope that it will encourage you to continue to be a part of the puzzling but life-giving conversation in the church on what it means to worship the God who is Love and to give and receive love amid life's fears and difficulties.
Church is not all that we need to remember that "love is all and love is everyone." But it can play a crucial role at many different moments of joy, pain or heartbreak in our lives, especially when it helps point us to the God who is Love.
Love is all we need, for perfect love casts out fear. For Christians, God's perfect love is shown to us in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. As mortal humans with much to fear, we will not always show perfect love to one another. But the perfect love of God in Christ give us the confidence to respond to God's call to love. It guides us, inspires us and is always available to us when we most need it in this world of wonders and in lives of joy, pain, and grace.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
"What is to prevent me from being baptized?"
Text: Acts 8 26-40 (Philip baptizes an Ethiopian eunuch)
Four years ago in a class at Emmanuel College in Toronto, our professor asked us to share our favourite passage from Scripture. I can no longer remember which course it was, but I do remember one student's response to the question.
Cindy Bourgeois, who was settled two years ago as an ordained minister at Central United Church in Stratford Ontario, told us that for her the answer was easy. Cindy's favourite Scripture passage is our reading from Acts today, the one that tells the story of Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch.
Immediately, I understood why this might be the case for her; and I will return to that in a few minutes. But to start, I take a closer look at the passage. Like many stories in the Bible, this one has a lot of different things happening in it.
Philip is one of the Greek-speaking apostles chosen by Peter, John and other Hebrew leaders of the early church to help spread the goods news of Jesus to those Jews who spoke Greek instead of Aramaic or Hebrew. At that time, millions of Jews worshipped in synagogues around the Mediterranean and even outside of the Roman Empire. Most of them spoke Greek and used a Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible in worship.
When God's Spirit sends Philip to encounter the Ethiopian eunuch on a road leading away from Jerusalem, it has been several months since the death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus. The apostles have fled persecution in Jerusalem. They are now preaching outside of the capital city, and their numbers are growing.
The Ethiopian is an important person. He is in charge of the treasury of the Queen of Ethiopia. He has come to Jerusalem to worship at the Temple, which suggests that he is a devout Jew. He is wealthy enough to travel by chariot and to own his own copy of the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures. He is highly educated person for he is reading aloud from Isaiah.
But despite being educated and devout, the Ethiopian asks Philip to help him understand Scripture. Phillip uses the passage from Isaiah to proclaim to him the good news about Jesus. Perhaps Philip shows how the portrait of a Suffering Servant in Isaiah could point to the death and resurrection of Jesus.
Having heard this good news, the Ethiopian then asks to be baptized. Philip does so, at which point the Spirit of the Lord snatches Philip away and the eunuch goes on his way rejoicing.
For me, the most prominent feature of the story is that this convert to Christ is a eunuch. Though rich and powerful, he is also a man who was emasculated at a young age so that he would be incapable of fathering children and would be considered less of a threat to the Queen whom he serves.
The first readers of the book of Acts might have been shocked that God's Spirit sent Philip to baptize a eunuch. Eunuchs were never part of the royal court of Jerusalem, and most Jews considered men who had been emasculated in this way unfit for worship. The biblical books of Deuteronomy and Leviticus mandate discrimination against eunuchs.
However, this African eunuch is not reading from Deuteronomy or Leviticus. He is reading from the biblical book Isaiah; and Isaiah takes a different approach to eunuchs than Deuteronomy or Leviticus. In Isaiah 56, which is only a few chapters after the part of Isaiah 53 being read by the eunuch in our story, we find the following:
"This is what the LORD says: To the eunuchs who keep my Sabbaths, who choose what pleases me and hold fast to my covenant -- to them I will give within my temple and its walls a memorial and a name better than sons and daughters; I will give them an everlasting name that will endure forever."
The fact that Acts contains this story about a eunuch shows that the early church came down on the side of Isaiah instead of Deuteronomy or Leviticus in regards to sexual minorities. Just as Jesus shared meals with sinners and tax collectors and embraced every oppressed minority that he encountered, the early church embraced people from every background, including people like eunuchs whom others might despise.
This background adds poignancy, I think, to the question the eunuch asks Philip: "What is to prevent me from being baptized?" Perhaps he fears that his black skin might be a barrier to his acceptance by God. Perhaps he fears that his difficulties in understanding Scripture might be a barrier. But above all, he may fear that his despised status as an emasculated man might be a barrier to his baptism. Philip, however, sees none of this. Immediately, he baptizes the Ethiopian who then travels on rejoicing and becomes the first person to bring the good news of Christ to Africa.
This story shows us again that God's grace is available to everyone regardless of nationality, race, or sexual status. Although sexual minorities encounter disgust, fear, or hatred from many of us, God creates no such barriers to His Love.
All of which brings me back to four years ago, to my fellow student Cindy Bourgeois, and to her attachment to our reading from Acts today. Cindy was one year ahead of me at Emmanuel College in the Master of Divinity program. Although I didn't have many classes with Cindy and did not get to know her well, she made a big impression on me. Cindy is a trans woman; a person who was assigned to the male sex as a newborn but who had decided later in her life that her sex and gender identity were female.
Cindy is hard to ignore. She is about 6 feet tall, heavyset, and at the same time always feminine. She has long curled hair. She wears dresses and uses makeup. Unlike many trans people, it is difficult to meet Cindy and not notice that she is trans. She is clearly a woman, but is also clearly someone who was not always a woman.
I imagine that Cindy chose today's reading from Acts as her favourite because she found validation for her risky status as a trans woman in Philip's embrace of a eunuch.
I hesitated to preach today on issues of sex, gender, sexuality in relation to our reading from Acts. But since this reading is assigned by the Lectionary only once every three years, since I always think of my friend Cindy when I read this passage, and since issues around sex and gender have been key battlegrounds in churches for the last 100 years, I decided to go ahead.
Two years ago, Cindy Bourgeois became the first trans person to be ordained as a minister by the United Church of Canada. You can read an interview with her about it in the March 2011 issue of the United Church Observer.
Our United Church has been at the forefront of struggles for justice and equality since our founding. We were the first Christian church to ordain women, starting with Rev. Lydia Gruchy, who was ordained in Moose Jaw in 1936. We were the first to allow married women to be ordained starting in the 1960s. We were the first to allow the ordination of openly gay and lesbian people beginning in 1988. And now we are probably the first church to ordain trans people. This history is part of our treasure even as it has also sometimes felt like a burden for the church.
People like me are pleased that the United Church consistently takes these stands on the grounds of hospitality, inclusion, and justice. But others may be dismayed by it, or perhaps are just tired of this aspect of our history.
I will always be reminded of Cindy when I read today's passage from Acts. But it could be that I am the only one here today who has personal experience with trans people. Perhaps I am also the only one of us who would use the contradictory passages about eunuchs in different books of the Bible as a window into the church's struggles around trans people. I can understand if some people would rather not deal with these issues.
This week, I read a column in the British newspaper the Guardian that urged liberal Anglicans to stop harping on the issue of equality for homosexuals. The author argued that "this focus has led straight young men to keep their distance [from church] . . . Most young heterosexual men are wary of a subculture that is highly exercised about gay rights."
He continues to write that "the relationship between Christianity and maleness has always been a bit tricky. This religion is pretty tough on the obvious male propensities: aggression, greed, cool scepticism, sexual pride. It encourages certain attitudes that contravene adult maleness: contrition, admission of vulnerability and weakness, empathy, and so on. Aren't these womanly qualities? Isn't this whole religion … a bit gay?"
His comments reminded me of something that Barack Obama wrote in his autobiography, "Dreams from My Father." In his 20s when Obama first lived in Chicago, he decided to become a Christian. He writes about a conversation he had with the minister of Trinity United Church of Christ, Rev. Jeremiah Wright. Wright, who later baptized Obama, said to him that "nothing is harder than reaching young brothers like yourself. They worry about looking soft. They worry about what their buddies are gonna say about them. They tell themselves church is a woman's thing -- that it's a sign of weakness for a man to admit that he's got spiritual needs." (Dreams from My Father, p. 282-3)
While I don't agree with the idea that liberal Christians should tone down our support for homosexuals or worry too much about the supposed femininity of church, I can see the points made by both Rev. Wright and the columnist in the Guardian. For many of us, changes in our culture during our lifetimes can sometimes feel like too much.
100 years ago, life was simpler in many ways. Virtually everyone was a farmer, which made choosing a career a non-issue. The best place to get news was at church on Sunday or at the train station when the mail arrived each week. There was no cable television, no Internet, no Twitter, no Facebook.
100 years ago, no one ever talked about homosexuality or about switching gender roles. Men had a standard script that led to masculinity and women had a standard script that led to femininity.
Today, some of that simplicity still applies for many of us. Some of us still get more of our news on coffee row than from Facebook. Some of us will never use a computer. For instance, my mother refuses to adopt the Internet no matter how much it would improve her ability to be in touch with her grandchildren. And I believe that all of that is OK.
It is the same thing with gender roles and sexual orientations. Like many people, I never question the places where I landed in those regards as an teenager. Probably the only time I will ever wear a dress is when I am preaching in an alb, as I am doing today!
And yet issues of sex, sexuality and gender keep landing on the agendas of our churches. Do all of us who worship in church have to continually deal with these issues? Well, I think the answer is "no." But at the same time, one never knows who is going to come through the church door.
When a trans person like Cindy asks a church if there are any barriers to her pursuing ordination, it has a decision to make. Almost all churches, I think, would have turned Cindy away at their door. They would have told her that she was a sinner and that the should repent lest she burn in hell for all of eternity.
But when the United Church of Canada was approached by Cindy Bourgeois, we chose the path shown to Philip by God's Spirit in the case of the Ethiopian eunuch. We embraced her as a child of God and realized that one's sexual status is not a barrier to being embraced by God's Love.
"What is to prevent me from being baptized or ordained?" Nothing. Nothing at all.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
Four years ago in a class at Emmanuel College in Toronto, our professor asked us to share our favourite passage from Scripture. I can no longer remember which course it was, but I do remember one student's response to the question.
Cindy Bourgeois, who was settled two years ago as an ordained minister at Central United Church in Stratford Ontario, told us that for her the answer was easy. Cindy's favourite Scripture passage is our reading from Acts today, the one that tells the story of Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch.
Immediately, I understood why this might be the case for her; and I will return to that in a few minutes. But to start, I take a closer look at the passage. Like many stories in the Bible, this one has a lot of different things happening in it.
Philip is one of the Greek-speaking apostles chosen by Peter, John and other Hebrew leaders of the early church to help spread the goods news of Jesus to those Jews who spoke Greek instead of Aramaic or Hebrew. At that time, millions of Jews worshipped in synagogues around the Mediterranean and even outside of the Roman Empire. Most of them spoke Greek and used a Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible in worship.
When God's Spirit sends Philip to encounter the Ethiopian eunuch on a road leading away from Jerusalem, it has been several months since the death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus. The apostles have fled persecution in Jerusalem. They are now preaching outside of the capital city, and their numbers are growing.
The Ethiopian is an important person. He is in charge of the treasury of the Queen of Ethiopia. He has come to Jerusalem to worship at the Temple, which suggests that he is a devout Jew. He is wealthy enough to travel by chariot and to own his own copy of the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures. He is highly educated person for he is reading aloud from Isaiah.
But despite being educated and devout, the Ethiopian asks Philip to help him understand Scripture. Phillip uses the passage from Isaiah to proclaim to him the good news about Jesus. Perhaps Philip shows how the portrait of a Suffering Servant in Isaiah could point to the death and resurrection of Jesus.
Having heard this good news, the Ethiopian then asks to be baptized. Philip does so, at which point the Spirit of the Lord snatches Philip away and the eunuch goes on his way rejoicing.
For me, the most prominent feature of the story is that this convert to Christ is a eunuch. Though rich and powerful, he is also a man who was emasculated at a young age so that he would be incapable of fathering children and would be considered less of a threat to the Queen whom he serves.
The first readers of the book of Acts might have been shocked that God's Spirit sent Philip to baptize a eunuch. Eunuchs were never part of the royal court of Jerusalem, and most Jews considered men who had been emasculated in this way unfit for worship. The biblical books of Deuteronomy and Leviticus mandate discrimination against eunuchs.
However, this African eunuch is not reading from Deuteronomy or Leviticus. He is reading from the biblical book Isaiah; and Isaiah takes a different approach to eunuchs than Deuteronomy or Leviticus. In Isaiah 56, which is only a few chapters after the part of Isaiah 53 being read by the eunuch in our story, we find the following:
"This is what the LORD says: To the eunuchs who keep my Sabbaths, who choose what pleases me and hold fast to my covenant -- to them I will give within my temple and its walls a memorial and a name better than sons and daughters; I will give them an everlasting name that will endure forever."
The fact that Acts contains this story about a eunuch shows that the early church came down on the side of Isaiah instead of Deuteronomy or Leviticus in regards to sexual minorities. Just as Jesus shared meals with sinners and tax collectors and embraced every oppressed minority that he encountered, the early church embraced people from every background, including people like eunuchs whom others might despise.
This background adds poignancy, I think, to the question the eunuch asks Philip: "What is to prevent me from being baptized?" Perhaps he fears that his black skin might be a barrier to his acceptance by God. Perhaps he fears that his difficulties in understanding Scripture might be a barrier. But above all, he may fear that his despised status as an emasculated man might be a barrier to his baptism. Philip, however, sees none of this. Immediately, he baptizes the Ethiopian who then travels on rejoicing and becomes the first person to bring the good news of Christ to Africa.
This story shows us again that God's grace is available to everyone regardless of nationality, race, or sexual status. Although sexual minorities encounter disgust, fear, or hatred from many of us, God creates no such barriers to His Love.
All of which brings me back to four years ago, to my fellow student Cindy Bourgeois, and to her attachment to our reading from Acts today. Cindy was one year ahead of me at Emmanuel College in the Master of Divinity program. Although I didn't have many classes with Cindy and did not get to know her well, she made a big impression on me. Cindy is a trans woman; a person who was assigned to the male sex as a newborn but who had decided later in her life that her sex and gender identity were female.
Cindy is hard to ignore. She is about 6 feet tall, heavyset, and at the same time always feminine. She has long curled hair. She wears dresses and uses makeup. Unlike many trans people, it is difficult to meet Cindy and not notice that she is trans. She is clearly a woman, but is also clearly someone who was not always a woman.
I imagine that Cindy chose today's reading from Acts as her favourite because she found validation for her risky status as a trans woman in Philip's embrace of a eunuch.
I hesitated to preach today on issues of sex, gender, sexuality in relation to our reading from Acts. But since this reading is assigned by the Lectionary only once every three years, since I always think of my friend Cindy when I read this passage, and since issues around sex and gender have been key battlegrounds in churches for the last 100 years, I decided to go ahead.
Two years ago, Cindy Bourgeois became the first trans person to be ordained as a minister by the United Church of Canada. You can read an interview with her about it in the March 2011 issue of the United Church Observer.
Our United Church has been at the forefront of struggles for justice and equality since our founding. We were the first Christian church to ordain women, starting with Rev. Lydia Gruchy, who was ordained in Moose Jaw in 1936. We were the first to allow married women to be ordained starting in the 1960s. We were the first to allow the ordination of openly gay and lesbian people beginning in 1988. And now we are probably the first church to ordain trans people. This history is part of our treasure even as it has also sometimes felt like a burden for the church.
People like me are pleased that the United Church consistently takes these stands on the grounds of hospitality, inclusion, and justice. But others may be dismayed by it, or perhaps are just tired of this aspect of our history.
I will always be reminded of Cindy when I read today's passage from Acts. But it could be that I am the only one here today who has personal experience with trans people. Perhaps I am also the only one of us who would use the contradictory passages about eunuchs in different books of the Bible as a window into the church's struggles around trans people. I can understand if some people would rather not deal with these issues.
This week, I read a column in the British newspaper the Guardian that urged liberal Anglicans to stop harping on the issue of equality for homosexuals. The author argued that "this focus has led straight young men to keep their distance [from church] . . . Most young heterosexual men are wary of a subculture that is highly exercised about gay rights."
He continues to write that "the relationship between Christianity and maleness has always been a bit tricky. This religion is pretty tough on the obvious male propensities: aggression, greed, cool scepticism, sexual pride. It encourages certain attitudes that contravene adult maleness: contrition, admission of vulnerability and weakness, empathy, and so on. Aren't these womanly qualities? Isn't this whole religion … a bit gay?"
His comments reminded me of something that Barack Obama wrote in his autobiography, "Dreams from My Father." In his 20s when Obama first lived in Chicago, he decided to become a Christian. He writes about a conversation he had with the minister of Trinity United Church of Christ, Rev. Jeremiah Wright. Wright, who later baptized Obama, said to him that "nothing is harder than reaching young brothers like yourself. They worry about looking soft. They worry about what their buddies are gonna say about them. They tell themselves church is a woman's thing -- that it's a sign of weakness for a man to admit that he's got spiritual needs." (Dreams from My Father, p. 282-3)
While I don't agree with the idea that liberal Christians should tone down our support for homosexuals or worry too much about the supposed femininity of church, I can see the points made by both Rev. Wright and the columnist in the Guardian. For many of us, changes in our culture during our lifetimes can sometimes feel like too much.
100 years ago, life was simpler in many ways. Virtually everyone was a farmer, which made choosing a career a non-issue. The best place to get news was at church on Sunday or at the train station when the mail arrived each week. There was no cable television, no Internet, no Twitter, no Facebook.
100 years ago, no one ever talked about homosexuality or about switching gender roles. Men had a standard script that led to masculinity and women had a standard script that led to femininity.
Today, some of that simplicity still applies for many of us. Some of us still get more of our news on coffee row than from Facebook. Some of us will never use a computer. For instance, my mother refuses to adopt the Internet no matter how much it would improve her ability to be in touch with her grandchildren. And I believe that all of that is OK.
It is the same thing with gender roles and sexual orientations. Like many people, I never question the places where I landed in those regards as an teenager. Probably the only time I will ever wear a dress is when I am preaching in an alb, as I am doing today!
And yet issues of sex, sexuality and gender keep landing on the agendas of our churches. Do all of us who worship in church have to continually deal with these issues? Well, I think the answer is "no." But at the same time, one never knows who is going to come through the church door.
When a trans person like Cindy asks a church if there are any barriers to her pursuing ordination, it has a decision to make. Almost all churches, I think, would have turned Cindy away at their door. They would have told her that she was a sinner and that the should repent lest she burn in hell for all of eternity.
But when the United Church of Canada was approached by Cindy Bourgeois, we chose the path shown to Philip by God's Spirit in the case of the Ethiopian eunuch. We embraced her as a child of God and realized that one's sexual status is not a barrier to being embraced by God's Love.
"What is to prevent me from being baptized or ordained?" Nothing. Nothing at all.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
What's in a name?
Texts: Psalm 23 (The Lord's my shepherd); Acts 4:5-12 (saved by Jesus' name); 1 John 3:16-24 (love in word and deed); John 10:11-18 (Jesus as the good shepherd)
"There is no other name than Jesus Christ by which we must be saved." So says Peter in our reading today from Acts. Salvation, of course, is the chief work of God in Christ. But how does the name Jesus Christ help save us? We hear a similar comment about Jesus' name in our reading from 1st John. The author urges us to "believe in the name Jesus Christ." Belief in Christ is central for Christians, of course. But why does the author urge us to believe in the name Jesus Christ instead of the person?
Names do carry a lot of power. A good example, I think, is found on Easter Sunday morning. Mary Magdalene talks with a man outside of the empty tomb, but it is only when he says her name, "Mary," that she realizes the man to whom she has been speaking is not a gardener, but is the Risen Jesus.
Names are especially important when they refer to God. The ancient Hebrews had many names for God: El Shaddai, Adonai, Elohim, Shekinah, and so on. But the most important of the Hebrew words for God was so sacred that it was spoken aloud only once a year, and then only by the High Priest in the Holy Temple on the Day of Atonement. In the Hebrew Bible it appears as the four letters YHWH, and it is translated into English as Yahweh, Jehovah, or the Lord God.
Yahweh is the name for God used in Psalm 23, which we sang a few minutes ago. In English, the first line of the Psalm is, "The Lord is my Shepherd." But the original Hebrew could also be translated into English as "Yahweh is my shepherd," or "The Holy-Name-One-Must-Never-Say is my shepherd."
Today's scene from Acts occurs a few weeks after the death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus. Peter is under arrest in Jerusalem for healing a lame man whom he encountered outside of the Temple. At his trial, Peter says "it is by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth . . . that this [lame] man stands before you healed . . . Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name given under heaven by which we must be saved."
For many Christians, Peter's statement stands alongside that of Jesus in John 14:16 -- "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." Together, they are said to prove that only believing Christians can be healed in this life and saved in the next. But is this what Peter means by the phrase "no other name," and is this what we should preach?
One of the first things that can to my mind in thinking of this question was the phrase "What's in a name" from William Shakespeare’s play "Romeo and Juliet." The phrase is found in a speech delivered by Juliet from her balcony after she learns that Romeo, in whom she has fallen in love, is a member of the Montague family. The problem is that Juliet is a Capulet, and the Capulet and Montague families are sworn enemies. So here, now, is her famous balcony speech:
O Romeo, deny thy father, and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be a Capulet.
'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What's in a name? that which we call a rose by any other name
would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title.
Romeo, doff thy name, and for that name which is no part of thee
take all myself.
In her love for Romeo, Juliet is willing to overlook his family name, and audiences usually applaud her decision. But given how important and powerful names are, should we ever disregard names, especially the names we use for Jesus?
This question leads me to another one: "Just what is Jesus' name?" It turns out that answering this second question not an easy task.
When I was a child, I assumed that Christ was Jesus' surname -- that his parents were called Joseph and Mary Christ of Nazareth.
Later, I learned that Christ is a royal title given to kings in Jerusalem. To be more precise, it is the Greek form of the Hebrew royal title Messiah. English forms of Messiah include Chosen One, Anointed One, and King. Jesus' surname would have been Ben Josef -- "son of Joseph" -- and not Christ.
Then there is Jesus' given name. Like Christ, Jesus is Greek even though Jesus and his family did not speak Greek. During his lifetime, Jesus would have been called Yeshua or Joshua, which are the Aramaic and Hebrew forms of Jesus.
Jesus spoke Aramaic while the gospels were written many years later in Greek. English translations of the gospels usually translate personal names from Greek into English. For example, Petros becomes Peter and Paulus becomes Paul. But English translators do not translate the Greek name, Jesus, into an English name like Joshua or Josh.
Perhaps translators shy away from translating "Jesus Christ" into English because of the importance given to the name and title by the authors of Acts and First John. Still, it only takes a moment's reflection to realize that Peter would not have uttered the words "Jesus Christ" in his trial before religious authorities in Jerusalem. Like Jesus, Peter spoke Aramaic, and so he would have said something like this: "There is no other name than Yeshua the Messiah by which we must be saved." The puzzle remains, at least for me.
Finally, there is the meaning of the name Jesus/Joshua/Yeshua. The first part of the name refers to the sacred name of the God of Israel, Yahweh. The second part of the name means "rescue" or "save." Together they give us another possible translation of Jesus into English: Yahweh the Salvation.
In our Gospel reading today, Jesus uses the metaphor of Good Shepherd to refer to himself. In doing so, he connects himself to his namesake, Yahweh, who is called the Good Shepherd in Psalm 23. The metaphor can be seen as another indication that Jesus truly is Yahweh the Salvation.
Jesus then goes on to say that "I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also . . . so there will be one flock, one shepherd." Jesus' mission is a universal one that extends beyond Israel, even if this mission is carried out under the particular holy name and title of Jesus the Christ, or Yahweh the King.
Given passages like today's from Acts and First John, I can understand why many Christians are anxious to use the right forms of Jesus' name in prayer and worship. However, anxiety about getting things "right" is sometimes a sign of idolatry.
We talked a lot about idols and idolatry in the confirmation class here in Coronach on Thursday. I suggested that from one perspective, no one is truly an atheist, for all of us worship something or other. The trouble comes when we worship false gods instead of the one true God who is Love. False gods come in many guises: sports teams, nations, celebrities, addictive substances like alcohol, desire for wealth or fame, and so many others. Even aspects of our religion can become idols, as when Christians seem to worship the Bible more than the God to whom the Bible is supposed to point.
I don't believe we should be too hard on ourselves when we realize that we have worshipped a false god. Idolatry seems to be an unavoidable sin for most of us most of the time. Perhaps the best we can hope for in life is that each succeeding idol we worship take us father away from anxiety and closer to the God of Love revealed for Christians most clearly in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus.
The passages from Acts and First John we heard today remind us of the importance of sacred names, as do the 10 commandments and the Lord's Prayer. Nevertheless, I hope that the points I have raised about the origins of our names for God and Jesus might help us feel less anxious about using sacred names.
Perhaps the best translation of the holy and powerful name of God in Christ might sometimes just be the word "Love." Every language has a word that refers to that elusive but central concept we call Love. Since God in Christ is best known in acts of love, why not carry out out the mission of Jesus under the sacred name of Love?
Further, how we speak of love is not as important as how we act in love. The author of First John reminds us of this today when he writes, "Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action." As the 1960s hymn puts it, "They will know we are Christians by our love."
Actions speak louder than words, and loving action fulfils the mission of Jesus regardless of the name we use to describe the God who is Love. This is another good reason, I believe, to not be too anxious about how we name God as known in Christ.
What's in a name? A great deal, I think, and also not much. Love heals us at Easter, as at any time, regardless of the name we use for it.
For Christians, the strong name of Jesus is the sweetest name for love we know. We respect the name and try to use it properly in prayer, worship and mission.
We are also confident that Love remains the source, calling and destiny for all people. This is true regardless of the names we use for God and regardless of the idols we falsely worship along life's road. At the end, we know that this road surely leads us back to the God who is Love.
Thanks be to God,
Amen.
"There is no other name than Jesus Christ by which we must be saved." So says Peter in our reading today from Acts. Salvation, of course, is the chief work of God in Christ. But how does the name Jesus Christ help save us? We hear a similar comment about Jesus' name in our reading from 1st John. The author urges us to "believe in the name Jesus Christ." Belief in Christ is central for Christians, of course. But why does the author urge us to believe in the name Jesus Christ instead of the person?
Names do carry a lot of power. A good example, I think, is found on Easter Sunday morning. Mary Magdalene talks with a man outside of the empty tomb, but it is only when he says her name, "Mary," that she realizes the man to whom she has been speaking is not a gardener, but is the Risen Jesus.
Names are especially important when they refer to God. The ancient Hebrews had many names for God: El Shaddai, Adonai, Elohim, Shekinah, and so on. But the most important of the Hebrew words for God was so sacred that it was spoken aloud only once a year, and then only by the High Priest in the Holy Temple on the Day of Atonement. In the Hebrew Bible it appears as the four letters YHWH, and it is translated into English as Yahweh, Jehovah, or the Lord God.
Yahweh is the name for God used in Psalm 23, which we sang a few minutes ago. In English, the first line of the Psalm is, "The Lord is my Shepherd." But the original Hebrew could also be translated into English as "Yahweh is my shepherd," or "The Holy-Name-One-Must-Never-Say is my shepherd."
Today's scene from Acts occurs a few weeks after the death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus. Peter is under arrest in Jerusalem for healing a lame man whom he encountered outside of the Temple. At his trial, Peter says "it is by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth . . . that this [lame] man stands before you healed . . . Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name given under heaven by which we must be saved."
For many Christians, Peter's statement stands alongside that of Jesus in John 14:16 -- "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." Together, they are said to prove that only believing Christians can be healed in this life and saved in the next. But is this what Peter means by the phrase "no other name," and is this what we should preach?
One of the first things that can to my mind in thinking of this question was the phrase "What's in a name" from William Shakespeare’s play "Romeo and Juliet." The phrase is found in a speech delivered by Juliet from her balcony after she learns that Romeo, in whom she has fallen in love, is a member of the Montague family. The problem is that Juliet is a Capulet, and the Capulet and Montague families are sworn enemies. So here, now, is her famous balcony speech:
O Romeo, deny thy father, and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be a Capulet.
'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What's in a name? that which we call a rose by any other name
would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title.
Romeo, doff thy name, and for that name which is no part of thee
take all myself.
In her love for Romeo, Juliet is willing to overlook his family name, and audiences usually applaud her decision. But given how important and powerful names are, should we ever disregard names, especially the names we use for Jesus?
This question leads me to another one: "Just what is Jesus' name?" It turns out that answering this second question not an easy task.
When I was a child, I assumed that Christ was Jesus' surname -- that his parents were called Joseph and Mary Christ of Nazareth.
Later, I learned that Christ is a royal title given to kings in Jerusalem. To be more precise, it is the Greek form of the Hebrew royal title Messiah. English forms of Messiah include Chosen One, Anointed One, and King. Jesus' surname would have been Ben Josef -- "son of Joseph" -- and not Christ.
Then there is Jesus' given name. Like Christ, Jesus is Greek even though Jesus and his family did not speak Greek. During his lifetime, Jesus would have been called Yeshua or Joshua, which are the Aramaic and Hebrew forms of Jesus.
Jesus spoke Aramaic while the gospels were written many years later in Greek. English translations of the gospels usually translate personal names from Greek into English. For example, Petros becomes Peter and Paulus becomes Paul. But English translators do not translate the Greek name, Jesus, into an English name like Joshua or Josh.
Perhaps translators shy away from translating "Jesus Christ" into English because of the importance given to the name and title by the authors of Acts and First John. Still, it only takes a moment's reflection to realize that Peter would not have uttered the words "Jesus Christ" in his trial before religious authorities in Jerusalem. Like Jesus, Peter spoke Aramaic, and so he would have said something like this: "There is no other name than Yeshua the Messiah by which we must be saved." The puzzle remains, at least for me.
Finally, there is the meaning of the name Jesus/Joshua/Yeshua. The first part of the name refers to the sacred name of the God of Israel, Yahweh. The second part of the name means "rescue" or "save." Together they give us another possible translation of Jesus into English: Yahweh the Salvation.
In our Gospel reading today, Jesus uses the metaphor of Good Shepherd to refer to himself. In doing so, he connects himself to his namesake, Yahweh, who is called the Good Shepherd in Psalm 23. The metaphor can be seen as another indication that Jesus truly is Yahweh the Salvation.
Jesus then goes on to say that "I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also . . . so there will be one flock, one shepherd." Jesus' mission is a universal one that extends beyond Israel, even if this mission is carried out under the particular holy name and title of Jesus the Christ, or Yahweh the King.
Given passages like today's from Acts and First John, I can understand why many Christians are anxious to use the right forms of Jesus' name in prayer and worship. However, anxiety about getting things "right" is sometimes a sign of idolatry.
We talked a lot about idols and idolatry in the confirmation class here in Coronach on Thursday. I suggested that from one perspective, no one is truly an atheist, for all of us worship something or other. The trouble comes when we worship false gods instead of the one true God who is Love. False gods come in many guises: sports teams, nations, celebrities, addictive substances like alcohol, desire for wealth or fame, and so many others. Even aspects of our religion can become idols, as when Christians seem to worship the Bible more than the God to whom the Bible is supposed to point.
I don't believe we should be too hard on ourselves when we realize that we have worshipped a false god. Idolatry seems to be an unavoidable sin for most of us most of the time. Perhaps the best we can hope for in life is that each succeeding idol we worship take us father away from anxiety and closer to the God of Love revealed for Christians most clearly in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus.
The passages from Acts and First John we heard today remind us of the importance of sacred names, as do the 10 commandments and the Lord's Prayer. Nevertheless, I hope that the points I have raised about the origins of our names for God and Jesus might help us feel less anxious about using sacred names.
Perhaps the best translation of the holy and powerful name of God in Christ might sometimes just be the word "Love." Every language has a word that refers to that elusive but central concept we call Love. Since God in Christ is best known in acts of love, why not carry out out the mission of Jesus under the sacred name of Love?
Further, how we speak of love is not as important as how we act in love. The author of First John reminds us of this today when he writes, "Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action." As the 1960s hymn puts it, "They will know we are Christians by our love."
Actions speak louder than words, and loving action fulfils the mission of Jesus regardless of the name we use to describe the God who is Love. This is another good reason, I believe, to not be too anxious about how we name God as known in Christ.
What's in a name? A great deal, I think, and also not much. Love heals us at Easter, as at any time, regardless of the name we use for it.
For Christians, the strong name of Jesus is the sweetest name for love we know. We respect the name and try to use it properly in prayer, worship and mission.
We are also confident that Love remains the source, calling and destiny for all people. This is true regardless of the names we use for God and regardless of the idols we falsely worship along life's road. At the end, we know that this road surely leads us back to the God who is Love.
Thanks be to God,
Amen.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
The spiritual life in a soulful age
Texts: Isaiah 42:1-7 (the Suffering Servant); Romans 8:1-414 (children of God)
Sermon preached at the end of covenant service for student intern/supply minister Pamela Scott at Vanguard, SK, April 23, 2012
Let me start by saying how pleased I am that Pamela asked me to be here tonight as she ends her eight-month internship in New Ventures Pastoral Charge. I feel honoured to have this chance to reflect with you tonight on church, ministry and the call of God's Spirit.
I met Pamela in September at the church's Calling Lakes Centre in Fort Qu'Appelle at a Newcomer's Event. Those three days and nights were designed for people in ministry in the United Church who were new to Saskatchewan. I had moved to Saskatchewan in July of last summer as a newly ordained minister in Borderlands Pastoral Charge (Coronach, Fife Lake and Rockglen). Pamela, as you know, moved here to New Ventures in September for an eight-month internship to complete her requirements to become a United Church minister.
Pamela and I saw each other a few other times at Presbytery meetings and at United Church ministerial meetings in Assiniboia. And although we don't know each other well, Pamela and I seem to have a lot in common.
We are both beginning a second career in ministry during mid-life; me after years as a librarian, Pamela after years as a nurse and dental hygienist. We both come from big cities, me from Toronto in the East and Pamela from Vancouver in the West. And we both have now enjoyed an enlivening experience as ministers in three-point charges in rural Saskatchewan.
As Pamela leaves Saskatchewan and awaits news of a call or appointment that will mark the first stage of her new life as an ordained United Church minister, I am drawn to talk of the call of God's Spirit.
Our reading from Isaiah tonight reminds us that God gives "breath to the people upon the earth and spirit to those who walk in it." And our reading from St. Paul reminds us that "all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God."
As you have experienced here in New Ventures for these past eight months, Pamela is someone who has been led by the Spirit of God to offer her life in ministry in Christ's Church.
Church, ministry and God's call to new life in Christ are all very spirited endeavours, of course. But how do we square this fact with the reality that church in Canada today is often marked by a lack of spirit? Today, we do the work of ministry in an increasingly secular society, and in a church that is ageing and shrinking.
Like most people of my generation, I turned my back on church when I was a teenager. When I returned to church 11 years ago, I was surprised that the United Church hadn't completely withered away in the intervening decades. But I was grateful that the church still existed and that it had changed in ways that surprised and pleased me. I was looking for a community of faith in which to heal some personal wounds and in which to find a new basis upon which to found my life. And I seemed to find exactly what I needed in my local United Church congregation.
But even though a faithful remnant had kept the United Church alive, it was a lot smaller than when I had walked away from it in the 1970s. Nor is it just our denomination that has declined in Canada, of course.
Perhaps the biggest surprise for me when I moved to Coronach last summer was the fact that I was the only paid clergy person in our town of 800 people. The Alliance and Lutheran churches have both been without a pastor for several years now. The Roman Catholic parish does have a priest. But he lives in the other town, Rockglen. The Anglican church closed years ago.
In the 1940s, when Coronach had only 300 people, it had six paid ministers. In the 21st Century, it now struggles to afford even one.
One of the reasons that churches struggle in my area is that the population is shrinking again despite the coal mine and coal-fired generating plant in Coronach.
Many of the residents of Coronach and Rockglen are farmers who have retired off of surrounding farms. But since farms continue to balloon in size, today there are fewer farmers who might move to town in the next years. Also, with the improvement in roads and vehicles and the lack of doctors along the Border, more people now shop in, or retire to Assiniboia, Moose Jaw, or Regina than the formerly busy centres of Coronach or Rockglen. I am sure that you here in New Ventures are quite familiar with this syndrome as well.
In towns that are slowly shrinking in size, the decline of church-going in Canada perhaps becomes even more apparent than in the cities.
Most congregations are also now quite elderly. I looked at the United Church Statistical Yearbook recently, and I noted that in 1960, our church confirmed about 40,000 teenagers a year. By 2010, that yearly figure was down to 4,000. That is a 90% drop in just two generations.
There are some positives in this decline, I think. Church in Canada is no longer a social obligation. Those of us who come to church today, do so because we want to worship the God who is Love and to serve our communities out of gratitude for the grace we receive in our lives. We may be fewer in numbers than in generations past, but perhaps church now exhibits more faith, hope and love than it once did.
I also find it useful to look not only at life in the spirit but also at the aspect of life described by the word "soul." I used to think that soul and spirit referred to the same thing. But then I read the 1992 best-selling book "Care of the Soul" by Thomas Moore. Moore makes a distinction between the two. Spirit, he writes, is connected to consciousness, idealism, and activism and looks to the future. Soul on the other hand is connected to the body, feelings and tradition and looks to the past.
Despite these differences, soul and spirit complement each other. Both can be seen as a kind of fire. Spirit is like an out-of-control flame that signals action and change. Soul is like the glowing embers in a hearth fire; a fire that has burned down, become tame, and which we can rely upon for warmth and comfort.
Spirit without soul can be ungrounded and dangerous. Soul without spirit can be lifeless. But when they work together -- when with Grace, our spirit is grounded in soul and our soul is enlivened by spirit -- then life flourishes.
Isaiah's portrait of the Suffering Servant, which we heard tonight, illustrates both spirit and soul. The Servant is one who moves with gentleness. "He will not cry or lift up his voice, or make it heard in the street; a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice."
Though filled with the fire of God's breath, the Servant will patiently guard a sputtering wick until it safely ignites. He will tend a bruised reed for as long it takes to heal and grow.
The Servant's focus is on justice: to be "a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon." But this Servant knows human suffering and gently tends to all of us who are broken and fearful.
Christians often link Isaiah's portrait of the Servant with Jesus; and the life of Jesus illustrates both spirit and soul as well. Jesus begins his ministry when he is anointed by the Holy Spirit at baptism; and he ends his ministry by promising the disciples that God will send his Holy Spirit to guide and teach them.
In between, he models for his friends a humble and soulful path that grounds God's Spirit in human reality. Jesus is God-with-us, God in the flesh. He experiences all of the joys and pains of human existence. His path is one of humility and suffering -- the way of the Cross; and it this gracious and difficult way that we are called to follow, and which we do follow through God's grace.
In Christ's church we have idealism and spirit, which are represented by soaring steeples, challenging Scriptures and ambitious missions to work for the reign of God. In the church, we also have the comfort and grounding of soul, which is represented by the communion table and the baptismal font. At the Lord's Table we remember the life, death and resurrection of Jesus in a simple meal of bread and wine. And at the font, we are initiated into the Way of the Cross using that most common and essential element, water.
Water, bread and wine: the soulful elements of a humble and embodied life in Christ. Steeple, cross, and Bible: the spiritual elements of an idealistic and ambitious life in Christ. We have both sides in the church. And because we have both sides, worship and mission can be moved by the power of God's Spirit while remaining grounded and balanced.
Today, many United Church congregations are in a more soulful phase than a spiritual one, I believe. We are ageing. We are often inwardly focused. Many of us love tradition. We provide comfort and hope to one another in lives that often seem difficult. And what is not to love about this aspect of church?
On the other hand, life in Christ can quickly change gears. At a Christmas cantata, a rural community can raise its voice in song and in doing so, fan the flames of love of God as high as it ever burned. In a large community funeral, the spirit of a loved one can burn brighter in the hearts and minds of those who have assembled to mourn, celebrate and comfort one another than at any other time in the life of the family. In a joyous wedding, the spirit of God's love can burst through the hearts of everyone gathered there as we celebrate the love of a young couple.
In the same way, the enthusiasm of a new minister can merge with the glowing embers of a small church whose congregants are seeking hope amid doubt, trust amid fear, and joy amid the day-to-day problems of life. In the church, we could try to remember that glowing embers may burst into the bright flame of Spirit at any moment, just as we realize that quiet and contemplative gatherings are often what will work best in the moment.
None of us know what is ahead for us as individuals, as a congregation, as a church or as a society. All we know is that we can be assured of the presence of God as Holy Spirit within us and as a soulful companion in Jesus at our side every step of the way.
Tonight we give thanks for the ministry of Pamela Scott here in New Ventures. And we wish her well in her new life as an ordained minister. We know that, like us, she goes filled with the fire of God's Spirit, which strains after justice. She also goes with a humble companion on God's path of faith, hope and love. He is the Suffering Servant, Jesus the Christ who keeps us grounded in simple sacraments of water, bread and wine.
Thanks be to God . . . Amen.
Sermon preached at the end of covenant service for student intern/supply minister Pamela Scott at Vanguard, SK, April 23, 2012
Let me start by saying how pleased I am that Pamela asked me to be here tonight as she ends her eight-month internship in New Ventures Pastoral Charge. I feel honoured to have this chance to reflect with you tonight on church, ministry and the call of God's Spirit.
I met Pamela in September at the church's Calling Lakes Centre in Fort Qu'Appelle at a Newcomer's Event. Those three days and nights were designed for people in ministry in the United Church who were new to Saskatchewan. I had moved to Saskatchewan in July of last summer as a newly ordained minister in Borderlands Pastoral Charge (Coronach, Fife Lake and Rockglen). Pamela, as you know, moved here to New Ventures in September for an eight-month internship to complete her requirements to become a United Church minister.
Pamela and I saw each other a few other times at Presbytery meetings and at United Church ministerial meetings in Assiniboia. And although we don't know each other well, Pamela and I seem to have a lot in common.
We are both beginning a second career in ministry during mid-life; me after years as a librarian, Pamela after years as a nurse and dental hygienist. We both come from big cities, me from Toronto in the East and Pamela from Vancouver in the West. And we both have now enjoyed an enlivening experience as ministers in three-point charges in rural Saskatchewan.
As Pamela leaves Saskatchewan and awaits news of a call or appointment that will mark the first stage of her new life as an ordained United Church minister, I am drawn to talk of the call of God's Spirit.
Our reading from Isaiah tonight reminds us that God gives "breath to the people upon the earth and spirit to those who walk in it." And our reading from St. Paul reminds us that "all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God."
As you have experienced here in New Ventures for these past eight months, Pamela is someone who has been led by the Spirit of God to offer her life in ministry in Christ's Church.
Church, ministry and God's call to new life in Christ are all very spirited endeavours, of course. But how do we square this fact with the reality that church in Canada today is often marked by a lack of spirit? Today, we do the work of ministry in an increasingly secular society, and in a church that is ageing and shrinking.
Like most people of my generation, I turned my back on church when I was a teenager. When I returned to church 11 years ago, I was surprised that the United Church hadn't completely withered away in the intervening decades. But I was grateful that the church still existed and that it had changed in ways that surprised and pleased me. I was looking for a community of faith in which to heal some personal wounds and in which to find a new basis upon which to found my life. And I seemed to find exactly what I needed in my local United Church congregation.
But even though a faithful remnant had kept the United Church alive, it was a lot smaller than when I had walked away from it in the 1970s. Nor is it just our denomination that has declined in Canada, of course.
Perhaps the biggest surprise for me when I moved to Coronach last summer was the fact that I was the only paid clergy person in our town of 800 people. The Alliance and Lutheran churches have both been without a pastor for several years now. The Roman Catholic parish does have a priest. But he lives in the other town, Rockglen. The Anglican church closed years ago.
In the 1940s, when Coronach had only 300 people, it had six paid ministers. In the 21st Century, it now struggles to afford even one.
One of the reasons that churches struggle in my area is that the population is shrinking again despite the coal mine and coal-fired generating plant in Coronach.
Many of the residents of Coronach and Rockglen are farmers who have retired off of surrounding farms. But since farms continue to balloon in size, today there are fewer farmers who might move to town in the next years. Also, with the improvement in roads and vehicles and the lack of doctors along the Border, more people now shop in, or retire to Assiniboia, Moose Jaw, or Regina than the formerly busy centres of Coronach or Rockglen. I am sure that you here in New Ventures are quite familiar with this syndrome as well.
In towns that are slowly shrinking in size, the decline of church-going in Canada perhaps becomes even more apparent than in the cities.
Most congregations are also now quite elderly. I looked at the United Church Statistical Yearbook recently, and I noted that in 1960, our church confirmed about 40,000 teenagers a year. By 2010, that yearly figure was down to 4,000. That is a 90% drop in just two generations.
There are some positives in this decline, I think. Church in Canada is no longer a social obligation. Those of us who come to church today, do so because we want to worship the God who is Love and to serve our communities out of gratitude for the grace we receive in our lives. We may be fewer in numbers than in generations past, but perhaps church now exhibits more faith, hope and love than it once did.
I also find it useful to look not only at life in the spirit but also at the aspect of life described by the word "soul." I used to think that soul and spirit referred to the same thing. But then I read the 1992 best-selling book "Care of the Soul" by Thomas Moore. Moore makes a distinction between the two. Spirit, he writes, is connected to consciousness, idealism, and activism and looks to the future. Soul on the other hand is connected to the body, feelings and tradition and looks to the past.
Despite these differences, soul and spirit complement each other. Both can be seen as a kind of fire. Spirit is like an out-of-control flame that signals action and change. Soul is like the glowing embers in a hearth fire; a fire that has burned down, become tame, and which we can rely upon for warmth and comfort.
Spirit without soul can be ungrounded and dangerous. Soul without spirit can be lifeless. But when they work together -- when with Grace, our spirit is grounded in soul and our soul is enlivened by spirit -- then life flourishes.
Isaiah's portrait of the Suffering Servant, which we heard tonight, illustrates both spirit and soul. The Servant is one who moves with gentleness. "He will not cry or lift up his voice, or make it heard in the street; a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice."
Though filled with the fire of God's breath, the Servant will patiently guard a sputtering wick until it safely ignites. He will tend a bruised reed for as long it takes to heal and grow.
The Servant's focus is on justice: to be "a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon." But this Servant knows human suffering and gently tends to all of us who are broken and fearful.
Christians often link Isaiah's portrait of the Servant with Jesus; and the life of Jesus illustrates both spirit and soul as well. Jesus begins his ministry when he is anointed by the Holy Spirit at baptism; and he ends his ministry by promising the disciples that God will send his Holy Spirit to guide and teach them.
In between, he models for his friends a humble and soulful path that grounds God's Spirit in human reality. Jesus is God-with-us, God in the flesh. He experiences all of the joys and pains of human existence. His path is one of humility and suffering -- the way of the Cross; and it this gracious and difficult way that we are called to follow, and which we do follow through God's grace.
In Christ's church we have idealism and spirit, which are represented by soaring steeples, challenging Scriptures and ambitious missions to work for the reign of God. In the church, we also have the comfort and grounding of soul, which is represented by the communion table and the baptismal font. At the Lord's Table we remember the life, death and resurrection of Jesus in a simple meal of bread and wine. And at the font, we are initiated into the Way of the Cross using that most common and essential element, water.
Water, bread and wine: the soulful elements of a humble and embodied life in Christ. Steeple, cross, and Bible: the spiritual elements of an idealistic and ambitious life in Christ. We have both sides in the church. And because we have both sides, worship and mission can be moved by the power of God's Spirit while remaining grounded and balanced.
Today, many United Church congregations are in a more soulful phase than a spiritual one, I believe. We are ageing. We are often inwardly focused. Many of us love tradition. We provide comfort and hope to one another in lives that often seem difficult. And what is not to love about this aspect of church?
On the other hand, life in Christ can quickly change gears. At a Christmas cantata, a rural community can raise its voice in song and in doing so, fan the flames of love of God as high as it ever burned. In a large community funeral, the spirit of a loved one can burn brighter in the hearts and minds of those who have assembled to mourn, celebrate and comfort one another than at any other time in the life of the family. In a joyous wedding, the spirit of God's love can burst through the hearts of everyone gathered there as we celebrate the love of a young couple.
In the same way, the enthusiasm of a new minister can merge with the glowing embers of a small church whose congregants are seeking hope amid doubt, trust amid fear, and joy amid the day-to-day problems of life. In the church, we could try to remember that glowing embers may burst into the bright flame of Spirit at any moment, just as we realize that quiet and contemplative gatherings are often what will work best in the moment.
None of us know what is ahead for us as individuals, as a congregation, as a church or as a society. All we know is that we can be assured of the presence of God as Holy Spirit within us and as a soulful companion in Jesus at our side every step of the way.
Tonight we give thanks for the ministry of Pamela Scott here in New Ventures. And we wish her well in her new life as an ordained minister. We know that, like us, she goes filled with the fire of God's Spirit, which strains after justice. She also goes with a humble companion on God's path of faith, hope and love. He is the Suffering Servant, Jesus the Christ who keeps us grounded in simple sacraments of water, bread and wine.
Thanks be to God . . . Amen.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Canada's pride and shame: 95 years after Vimy Ridge
Text: Luke 24: 36-48 (Jesus suddenly appears)
April has been filled with commemorations. In the church, of course, we have celebrated the resurrection of Jesus. And since this is the third Sunday in the season of Easter, we continue this celebration today.
The media this month have also marked the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic, the 95th anniversary of the Battle of Vimy Ridge, and the 30th anniversary of the patriation of the Canadian Constitution.
The Titanic anniversary reminds us of a time when human optimism and confidence were shaken by the sinking of a supposedly unsinkable ship.
The Vimy Ridge anniversary reminds us of the growth of Canadian nationalism in the fires of World War One. In early April, 5,000 Canadian teenagers accompanied Governor-General David Johnston to France. They honoured the nearly 4,000 Canadian young men who were killed in taking Vimy Ridge from the Germans in April 1917. Johnston echoed many commentators before him when he said that this Battle 95 years ago marked "the birth of our nation."
The patriation of Canada's constitution in 1982 reminds us of a final milestone in Canada's independence from Great Britain. It stands at the end of a process that includes Confederation in 1867, Vimy Ridge in 1917, and the Statute of Westminster in 1932. The latter ended Canada's status as a colony of Britain.
Today, I use these commemorations to contrast national pride with the humble path to the realm of God revealed in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.
World War One is a central turning point not only in the history of the world, but also in the history of the Christian church.
The decades leading up to the 1914-1918 War were ones of growth and optimism in Europe and its settler colonies like Canada. By 1914, almost every part of the planet had been colonized by European empires. Free trade was the norm. Huge waves of immigrants from central and eastern Europe moved to less populated areas of the world, including here in southern Saskatchewan. So even as the world anticipates the 100th anniversary of World War One, century farm celebrations are occurring all along the Saskatchewan/Montana border.
In the years before the Great War, new technologies like the telephone and the automobile revolutionized society. Economic growth, scientific advances, and the spread of church missions gave the decades leading up to 1914 an optimistic feel.
There were hints of trouble, though. In 1912, the sinking of the Titanic was a harbinger of a disillusionment that would sweep the world with the coming of the Great War two years later. There is no denying the daring represented by the Titanic. At that time, it was the largest and most luxurious ship yet built. But the fact that this supposedly unsinkable ship did not survive even one cross-Atlantic voyage caused many people to stop and wonder about the limits of progress. Perhaps there were flaws in the prideful plans of European civilization.
Then two years later in 1914 came the disaster of the War. All the European empires -- Britain, Russia, and France on one side, and Germany, Austro-Hungary, and Turkey on the other -- ended their peaceful coexistence and attacked one another. On every side, the churches supported their own king, czar or kaiser. And as the slaughter unfolded, many ordinary people became disillusioned in their empires and in the churches that supported this disaster.
All the predecessors of the United Church of Canada supported the war with a few individual exceptions such as Methodist minister and first leader of the CCF party, J.S. Woodsworth. Our churches argued that the War was a holy crusade for democracy, decency and freedom. They did so despite the fact that one of Britain's main allies was Russia, a fearsome state that crushed all demands for democracy and human rights and that imprisoned scores of nations, including Poland, Ukraine, Finland, Armenia, Kazakhstan, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania.
Nor was Britain innocent. From its start in the conquest of Ireland in the 1500s, the British Empire had become the largest empire in history. It conquered and exploited much of Africa, the Indian sub-continent and the Caribbean. In all of these colonies, Britain stood against self-determination, democracy, and human rights.
Nevertheless, God was on our side in the War, declared the churches in Canada and Britain. Meanwhile, the churches in Germany, Hungary, and Austria declared that God was on their side. In reality, both sides in the War were characterized by imperial greed, violations of national and human rights, and terrible crimes of violence. On both sides, young men were slaughtered in their millions with the encouragement of church leaders ringing in their ears.
Although some historians disagree, I believe that neither side in World War One deserved support. If ever the church should have opposed a war, World War One was it, I believe. And yet to our shame, the opposite was the case.
The consequences of the War were many -- 15 million people killed, the fall of the Czar in Russia and the Kaiser in Germany, the break up of the Austro-Hungarian and Turkish empires, and the beginning of the end of Christianity as a tool of empire. After the war, many countries in Europe cut official ties between church and state and became more secular.
Our United Church was a partial exception to this trend, at least in our first 40 years. Because Canada and Britain were "winners" in the War, disillusionment with king, empire and church were not as severe here as in countries that lost the war.
At first, the United Church benefited from the rise of English Canadian nationalism in WWI, which had its key moment in the Battle of Vimy Ridge in 1917. This battle 95 years ago was the first one in which Canadian troops fought as Canadians.
Almost 4,000 Canadians were killed in the Battle even as they killed thousands of young Germans. Despite the Canadian victory, the two-month Battle of Arras, of which Vimy Ridge was just the opening, ended in a stalemate. The death of thousands on both sides changed nothing -- except to give Canadians something in which we were supposed to be proud.
In the United Church history that I read while on study leave in March, the prideful attitude of the Canada's churches towards Canada in the War was noted. The author wrote, "Canada's epic victory over the Germans at the Battle of Vimy Ridge in 1917 demonstrated to supporters of [the creation of the United Church] Canada's virility in a righteous cause ." (C.T. McIntire, p. 23).
Even today, our Government says we should feel pride when we remember this slaughter. However, the more I know about Vimy Ridge, the less likely I am to feel anything positive about it.
As Christians, our mission is to pray and work for peace. But in World War One, the churches supported earthly empires and their kaisers and kings instead of God's realm and its king, Jesus the Christ . . .
Nearly 2,000 years ago, when Jesus entered Jerusalem in triumph on Palm Sunday, his followers expected that he would lead them to military victory over the Romans. Instead, of course, the Romans arrested and executed Jesus.
At first, Jesus' disciples were dismayed and terrified. But as we heard in our reading from Luke today, Jesus appeared to them soon after his death in a new way. His first words to them were "Peace be with you." Jesus then gave them a mission to preach repentance and forgiveness of sins to all nations.
Jesus is a king who does not rule from a throne. Instead, he reigns in the hearts of his followers. His kingdom is not like the Roman, British or German ones. It is a kingdom for all peoples, one that rejects violence and one built on love and service.
Since 2006, the United Church of Canada has adopted the goal to become an intercultural church. We hope that in time our membership will better reflect the diversity of today's Canada. If we are to succeed in this goal, I think we would do well to move beyond our British imperial roots and show remorse for the role that the church played in key moments like World War One.
Nearly 100 years ago, young men in Canada were urged by their political and church leaders to kill and die for a senseless cause. No shame should fall on those who answered this call. The shame, I think, belongs to the political and church leaders who argued that killing Germans was a holy cause. The same holds for the other side. No shame should fall on the young Germans who responded to the arguments of their government and church that killing Canadians and our allies was a holy cause.
World War One helped break the church's hold on many people in Europe, for which we can only give thanks, I believe. A church that supports blood-drenched empires instead of the realm of God is a church that deserves to decline, in my opinion.
Today as we in the United Church try to relate to a diverse Canada that is no longer British, we can be sure that the resurrected Christ will appear to us in unexpected places. As with his disciples, he will wish us peace and show us glimpses of a humble way forward to repentance and forgiveness for all peoples.
Perhaps five years from now when the 100th anniversary of the Battle of Vimy Ridge is marked, our church will use the occasion to denounce the idea that we should feel pride that Canada sent young men to kill and to die for "God and Empire."
Jesus' life, death and resurrection shows us another way. It is a way of humility, a way of non-violent resistance to empire, and a way of sharing and love among people of all nations. Through the power of God's grace, he makes this path available to us in this as in any moment
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
April has been filled with commemorations. In the church, of course, we have celebrated the resurrection of Jesus. And since this is the third Sunday in the season of Easter, we continue this celebration today.
The media this month have also marked the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic, the 95th anniversary of the Battle of Vimy Ridge, and the 30th anniversary of the patriation of the Canadian Constitution.
The Titanic anniversary reminds us of a time when human optimism and confidence were shaken by the sinking of a supposedly unsinkable ship.
The Vimy Ridge anniversary reminds us of the growth of Canadian nationalism in the fires of World War One. In early April, 5,000 Canadian teenagers accompanied Governor-General David Johnston to France. They honoured the nearly 4,000 Canadian young men who were killed in taking Vimy Ridge from the Germans in April 1917. Johnston echoed many commentators before him when he said that this Battle 95 years ago marked "the birth of our nation."
The patriation of Canada's constitution in 1982 reminds us of a final milestone in Canada's independence from Great Britain. It stands at the end of a process that includes Confederation in 1867, Vimy Ridge in 1917, and the Statute of Westminster in 1932. The latter ended Canada's status as a colony of Britain.
Today, I use these commemorations to contrast national pride with the humble path to the realm of God revealed in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.
World War One is a central turning point not only in the history of the world, but also in the history of the Christian church.
The decades leading up to the 1914-1918 War were ones of growth and optimism in Europe and its settler colonies like Canada. By 1914, almost every part of the planet had been colonized by European empires. Free trade was the norm. Huge waves of immigrants from central and eastern Europe moved to less populated areas of the world, including here in southern Saskatchewan. So even as the world anticipates the 100th anniversary of World War One, century farm celebrations are occurring all along the Saskatchewan/Montana border.
In the years before the Great War, new technologies like the telephone and the automobile revolutionized society. Economic growth, scientific advances, and the spread of church missions gave the decades leading up to 1914 an optimistic feel.
There were hints of trouble, though. In 1912, the sinking of the Titanic was a harbinger of a disillusionment that would sweep the world with the coming of the Great War two years later. There is no denying the daring represented by the Titanic. At that time, it was the largest and most luxurious ship yet built. But the fact that this supposedly unsinkable ship did not survive even one cross-Atlantic voyage caused many people to stop and wonder about the limits of progress. Perhaps there were flaws in the prideful plans of European civilization.
Then two years later in 1914 came the disaster of the War. All the European empires -- Britain, Russia, and France on one side, and Germany, Austro-Hungary, and Turkey on the other -- ended their peaceful coexistence and attacked one another. On every side, the churches supported their own king, czar or kaiser. And as the slaughter unfolded, many ordinary people became disillusioned in their empires and in the churches that supported this disaster.
All the predecessors of the United Church of Canada supported the war with a few individual exceptions such as Methodist minister and first leader of the CCF party, J.S. Woodsworth. Our churches argued that the War was a holy crusade for democracy, decency and freedom. They did so despite the fact that one of Britain's main allies was Russia, a fearsome state that crushed all demands for democracy and human rights and that imprisoned scores of nations, including Poland, Ukraine, Finland, Armenia, Kazakhstan, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania.
Nor was Britain innocent. From its start in the conquest of Ireland in the 1500s, the British Empire had become the largest empire in history. It conquered and exploited much of Africa, the Indian sub-continent and the Caribbean. In all of these colonies, Britain stood against self-determination, democracy, and human rights.
Nevertheless, God was on our side in the War, declared the churches in Canada and Britain. Meanwhile, the churches in Germany, Hungary, and Austria declared that God was on their side. In reality, both sides in the War were characterized by imperial greed, violations of national and human rights, and terrible crimes of violence. On both sides, young men were slaughtered in their millions with the encouragement of church leaders ringing in their ears.
Although some historians disagree, I believe that neither side in World War One deserved support. If ever the church should have opposed a war, World War One was it, I believe. And yet to our shame, the opposite was the case.
The consequences of the War were many -- 15 million people killed, the fall of the Czar in Russia and the Kaiser in Germany, the break up of the Austro-Hungarian and Turkish empires, and the beginning of the end of Christianity as a tool of empire. After the war, many countries in Europe cut official ties between church and state and became more secular.
Our United Church was a partial exception to this trend, at least in our first 40 years. Because Canada and Britain were "winners" in the War, disillusionment with king, empire and church were not as severe here as in countries that lost the war.
At first, the United Church benefited from the rise of English Canadian nationalism in WWI, which had its key moment in the Battle of Vimy Ridge in 1917. This battle 95 years ago was the first one in which Canadian troops fought as Canadians.
Almost 4,000 Canadians were killed in the Battle even as they killed thousands of young Germans. Despite the Canadian victory, the two-month Battle of Arras, of which Vimy Ridge was just the opening, ended in a stalemate. The death of thousands on both sides changed nothing -- except to give Canadians something in which we were supposed to be proud.
In the United Church history that I read while on study leave in March, the prideful attitude of the Canada's churches towards Canada in the War was noted. The author wrote, "Canada's epic victory over the Germans at the Battle of Vimy Ridge in 1917 demonstrated to supporters of [the creation of the United Church] Canada's virility in a righteous cause ." (C.T. McIntire, p. 23).
Even today, our Government says we should feel pride when we remember this slaughter. However, the more I know about Vimy Ridge, the less likely I am to feel anything positive about it.
As Christians, our mission is to pray and work for peace. But in World War One, the churches supported earthly empires and their kaisers and kings instead of God's realm and its king, Jesus the Christ . . .
Nearly 2,000 years ago, when Jesus entered Jerusalem in triumph on Palm Sunday, his followers expected that he would lead them to military victory over the Romans. Instead, of course, the Romans arrested and executed Jesus.
At first, Jesus' disciples were dismayed and terrified. But as we heard in our reading from Luke today, Jesus appeared to them soon after his death in a new way. His first words to them were "Peace be with you." Jesus then gave them a mission to preach repentance and forgiveness of sins to all nations.
Jesus is a king who does not rule from a throne. Instead, he reigns in the hearts of his followers. His kingdom is not like the Roman, British or German ones. It is a kingdom for all peoples, one that rejects violence and one built on love and service.
Since 2006, the United Church of Canada has adopted the goal to become an intercultural church. We hope that in time our membership will better reflect the diversity of today's Canada. If we are to succeed in this goal, I think we would do well to move beyond our British imperial roots and show remorse for the role that the church played in key moments like World War One.
Nearly 100 years ago, young men in Canada were urged by their political and church leaders to kill and die for a senseless cause. No shame should fall on those who answered this call. The shame, I think, belongs to the political and church leaders who argued that killing Germans was a holy cause. The same holds for the other side. No shame should fall on the young Germans who responded to the arguments of their government and church that killing Canadians and our allies was a holy cause.
World War One helped break the church's hold on many people in Europe, for which we can only give thanks, I believe. A church that supports blood-drenched empires instead of the realm of God is a church that deserves to decline, in my opinion.
Today as we in the United Church try to relate to a diverse Canada that is no longer British, we can be sure that the resurrected Christ will appear to us in unexpected places. As with his disciples, he will wish us peace and show us glimpses of a humble way forward to repentance and forgiveness for all peoples.
Perhaps five years from now when the 100th anniversary of the Battle of Vimy Ridge is marked, our church will use the occasion to denounce the idea that we should feel pride that Canada sent young men to kill and to die for "God and Empire."
Jesus' life, death and resurrection shows us another way. It is a way of humility, a way of non-violent resistance to empire, and a way of sharing and love among people of all nations. Through the power of God's grace, he makes this path available to us in this as in any moment
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
"They said nothing to anyone for they were afraid."
Text: Mark 16 (the empty tomb)
"Jesus of Nazareth . . . has been raised . . . Tell his disciples that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you." With these words of a young man in white robe in an otherwise empty tomb, our journey of 40 days and nights in Lent is over. We have landed where we had hoped: amid Easter sunshine and with the Risen Christ.
At Easter, we celebrate the resurrection of both Jesus and of our ourselves. We are new people today -- no longer just ordinary citizens, but also blessed members of the Body of Christ. So it is every Easter and every Sunday. So it is with us today.
Except . . . we have also just heard of the reaction of the women -- Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome -- to whom this good news was first told. Mark ends our reading today by noting that: "they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid." This is the final sentence in the whole of Mark's Gospel. It is a surprising way to end, would you not agree?
Today, I talk about the surprise ending of the Gospel According to Mark and how it connects us both to the fear felt by the three women and to Easter hope and joy.
In Holy Week, we read a lot of Scripture. At the Thursday evening communion service, we read most of Mark 14 -- about 1200 words -- that told us of Jesus' anointment by an unnamed woman at Bethany, his Last Supper in an Upper Room, and his prayers and arrest in the Garden of Gethsemane.
On Good Friday, we read the rest of Mark 14 and all of Mark 15-- about 1400 words -- that told us of Jesus' trials, his crucifixion, and his burial.
Now today, we have heard the last chapter of Mark -- all eight verses of Mark 16 -- that in a mere 200 words tell us the story of Easter morning. Mark uses 2600 words to tell the story of Holy Tuesday, Holy Thursday and Good Friday, and only 200 words to tell the story of Easter morning.
This week, I came across a Facebook thread started by a United Church minister. She asked the following question, "Do you believe that Jesus was physically raised from the dead?" I didn't join the discussion, but if I had, I probably would have said that I believe in the literal truth of all the post-resurrection appearances of Jesus in the first Gospel to be written, the Gospel of Mark.
My answer, of course, would have been a dodge because there are no resurrection appearances in Mark. There is simply an announcement by an anonymous young man in a white robe in Jesus' tomb that he has been raised and will meet the disciples in Galilee.
Not all Bibles have Mark end at verse 8 of chapter 16. Some of them have one extra verse that says the risen Jesus later tells the disciples to spread the good news. Other Bibles have another 12 verses that include a synopsis of the resurrection appearances of Jesus from the other gospels. But these endings are always bracketed and come with a footnote that says these alternate endings were not written by Mark. They were later additions by scribes who perhaps were disturbed that Mark ended his gospel so abruptly and in such a downbeat way. The Lectionary never uses these later endings. Scholars are clear that Mark does not include even one resurrection appearance by Jesus.
The Gospel of Matthew is a copy of Mark that has some changes and additions. Matthew's additions include two brief resurrection appearances, first to the scared women on Easter morning and then to the disciples in Galilee where Jesus commissions them to preach to all nations.
The Gospel of Luke is also a copy of Mark with even more changes and additions. Luke's additions include a resurrection appearance by Jesus to two disciples as they walk home from Jerusalem, another in the Upper Room where he shows his wounds to the disciples, and finally an ascension scene in Bethany.
The Gospel of John is not a copy of Mark. It is a later account of the life of Jesus. John includes resurrection appearances to Mary Magdalene in the garden outside of the tomb, to the rest of the disciples on Sunday evening, to doubting Thomas a week later, and finally to the disciples as they fish in Galilee.
These comprise all the resurrection appearances in the four Gospels. Because none of them are found in Mark, the Lectionary sets Mark aside for the rest of the eight Sundays in the season of Easter even though we are in Year B of the Lectionary, which is the year that focuses on the Gospel of Mark,
Despite the lack of resurrection appearances in Mark and its downbeat ending, I appreciate its Easter account. The directive of the young man in a white robe to return to Galilee gives the Gospel of Mark a circular character since Galilee is where Mark's narrative begins.
In the first chapter of Mark, Jesus starts his ministry in Galilee after he is baptized in the Jordan River by John. Jesus teaches, preaches, and heals there for perhaps a year. At the end of his time in Galilee, Jesus admits to Peter that he is the Christ, but a Christ who will be betrayed, killed, and then raised on the third day. This admission comes as Jesus begins his journey to Jerusalem. At the end of that journey in an empty tomb, the disciples are directed to return to Galilee where they will see the risen Christ.
The end of Mark's Gospel directs us back to its beginning. This arc also describes ministry for any of us, I believe. First comes baptism, then love and service, then a journey to confront authority that involves the cross, then new life at Easter, and finally a return to where we began to start the process all over again . . .
I said earlier that there are no resurrection appearances of Jesus in Mark, but perhaps that statement is wrong. Perhaps every appearance of Jesus after his baptism in the Jordan in chapter 1 of Mark is a post-resurrection appearance.
According to St. Paul, we are baptized into Christ's death and raised into new life in Christ. It is the same with Jesus. He is baptized by John where he is also anointed by a dove and hears a voice telling him that he is God's beloved. After the baptism, he spends 40 days in the desert praying and being tempted by Satan. When Jesus returns from the desert, he has accepted his baptism. His old life has died in the Jordan River. He is now living a new life as God's Christ.
Jesus begins his ministry in full awareness of his coming death. He has taken up his cross. He urges us to do the same. And he demonstrates for us what a resurrected life in the shadow of the cross looks like. In every meal he shares with friends and sinners, in every healing, and in every parable he tells about the kingdom of God, Jesus shows us what resurrection looks like. Jesus has been raised from death by God in his baptism, just as he is raised on Easter after his death on Good Friday.
To know what resurrection looks like, we don't need to wait for the later gospel writers to write their accounts of resurrection appearances. We only need to read the Gospel of Mark again, to puzzle at the parables, to marvel at the healings, to be inspired by Jesus' courage, and to follow him to the cross despite having the same fears and doubts that beset his first disciples.
Christ has been raised, declares the young man in white. Now go back to where you began, to Galilee, and continue ministry there in the Spirit of the Risen Christ.
The same words apply to us today, 2,000 years later. Like the three beautiful children who were baptized here in Coronach this morning, we too have been baptized into Christ's death and resurrection. We have all been marked by the sign of the cross. Our old life is dead, and we are living an Easter life that is beyond ego and individuality. It is a life within the enfolding Spirit of God's Love, a life in touch with the eternity of God's Kingdom, now and always.
Do we always live out our baptismal vows? Of course not. Even Jesus sometimes expresses fear and despair, as we heard this week in Mark's accounts of Jesus' prayers in Gethsemane and his cry of anguish on the cross.
Sometimes we may be like the women in the empty tomb on Easter morning. Sometimes we may respond with terror and amazement to the good news that we have been baptized into a resurrected life in Christ.
Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome show great courage in going to Jesus' tomb to anoint his body. But when Jesus' predictions that he would be raised are confirmed by a young man dressed in a white robe, they don't shout for joy. Instead, they flee in terror.
The women must have assumed that their exhilarating ride with Jesus had ended with his death. Though grief-stricken, they might also have felt relief. Jesus' crazy dream of God's Kingdom on earth had been dashed. Jesus' puzzling preaching was at an end. There would be no more confrontations with the authorities. They could now return to their humble lives as fishers and farmers.
Instead, when they hear that Jesus has been raised and are told to return to Galilee, they are afraid. Perhaps they feel burdened by this good news. Jesus has been killed, but God's Christ still lives. With the help of God's Spirit, they are called to continue Christ's ministry despite the crucifixion.
It is not the same with us? As a minister, I may feel burdened by the need to write a sermon that proclaims the good news every week. (And thanks to Arlene for agreeing to preside and preach next week while I enjoy a "spiritual Sunday," April being one of those blessed months in 2012 that contains five Sundays instead of four.) We may feel burdened at the thought of attending church every week. We may have visited the sick in the hospital last week. Do we have to go again? We just sang Hallelujah last Easter. Do we have to do it again?
And of course, the answer to all these questions is "no." God's grace means that we don't have to do anything to be healed.
But then, from time to time, we glimpse what post-baptismal life in Christ is like. We look into the eyes of our child. We spend time with our beloved. We listen to a friend in distress. For a moment, our egos and anxieties dissolve in acts of love and service. We touch God's Spirit that was first symbolized at our baptism. We feel the burdens of life dissolving away. So we preach again. We celebrate again. We sing hallelujah again. We reach out to family, friends, neighbours in love again.
On Good Friday, the Romans tried to kill Love. The good news proclaimed by a young man in a white robe on Easter morning is that God has raised Love to new life, and so ministry continues back in Galilee . . . or in Borderlands.
I love the various stories of Jesus' resurrection appearances in Matthew, Luke and John. They contain an entire universe of the truth of God's love. But so, I believe, does the simple, stark, and realistic ending of Mark's Gospel.
In his ending, Mark directs us back to our baptism and to life and ministry in our home community. It is here that we will encounter the resurrected Jesus. He is the Christ into whom were baptized. He is the Christ we see in every person we meet and love. He is the Christ who draws us out of the empty tomb each Easter morning where, despite our amazement and fear, we say again, Hallelujah! Christ is risen!
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
"Jesus of Nazareth . . . has been raised . . . Tell his disciples that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you." With these words of a young man in white robe in an otherwise empty tomb, our journey of 40 days and nights in Lent is over. We have landed where we had hoped: amid Easter sunshine and with the Risen Christ.
At Easter, we celebrate the resurrection of both Jesus and of our ourselves. We are new people today -- no longer just ordinary citizens, but also blessed members of the Body of Christ. So it is every Easter and every Sunday. So it is with us today.
Except . . . we have also just heard of the reaction of the women -- Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome -- to whom this good news was first told. Mark ends our reading today by noting that: "they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid." This is the final sentence in the whole of Mark's Gospel. It is a surprising way to end, would you not agree?
Today, I talk about the surprise ending of the Gospel According to Mark and how it connects us both to the fear felt by the three women and to Easter hope and joy.
In Holy Week, we read a lot of Scripture. At the Thursday evening communion service, we read most of Mark 14 -- about 1200 words -- that told us of Jesus' anointment by an unnamed woman at Bethany, his Last Supper in an Upper Room, and his prayers and arrest in the Garden of Gethsemane.
On Good Friday, we read the rest of Mark 14 and all of Mark 15-- about 1400 words -- that told us of Jesus' trials, his crucifixion, and his burial.
Now today, we have heard the last chapter of Mark -- all eight verses of Mark 16 -- that in a mere 200 words tell us the story of Easter morning. Mark uses 2600 words to tell the story of Holy Tuesday, Holy Thursday and Good Friday, and only 200 words to tell the story of Easter morning.
This week, I came across a Facebook thread started by a United Church minister. She asked the following question, "Do you believe that Jesus was physically raised from the dead?" I didn't join the discussion, but if I had, I probably would have said that I believe in the literal truth of all the post-resurrection appearances of Jesus in the first Gospel to be written, the Gospel of Mark.
My answer, of course, would have been a dodge because there are no resurrection appearances in Mark. There is simply an announcement by an anonymous young man in a white robe in Jesus' tomb that he has been raised and will meet the disciples in Galilee.
Not all Bibles have Mark end at verse 8 of chapter 16. Some of them have one extra verse that says the risen Jesus later tells the disciples to spread the good news. Other Bibles have another 12 verses that include a synopsis of the resurrection appearances of Jesus from the other gospels. But these endings are always bracketed and come with a footnote that says these alternate endings were not written by Mark. They were later additions by scribes who perhaps were disturbed that Mark ended his gospel so abruptly and in such a downbeat way. The Lectionary never uses these later endings. Scholars are clear that Mark does not include even one resurrection appearance by Jesus.
The Gospel of Matthew is a copy of Mark that has some changes and additions. Matthew's additions include two brief resurrection appearances, first to the scared women on Easter morning and then to the disciples in Galilee where Jesus commissions them to preach to all nations.
The Gospel of Luke is also a copy of Mark with even more changes and additions. Luke's additions include a resurrection appearance by Jesus to two disciples as they walk home from Jerusalem, another in the Upper Room where he shows his wounds to the disciples, and finally an ascension scene in Bethany.
The Gospel of John is not a copy of Mark. It is a later account of the life of Jesus. John includes resurrection appearances to Mary Magdalene in the garden outside of the tomb, to the rest of the disciples on Sunday evening, to doubting Thomas a week later, and finally to the disciples as they fish in Galilee.
These comprise all the resurrection appearances in the four Gospels. Because none of them are found in Mark, the Lectionary sets Mark aside for the rest of the eight Sundays in the season of Easter even though we are in Year B of the Lectionary, which is the year that focuses on the Gospel of Mark,
Despite the lack of resurrection appearances in Mark and its downbeat ending, I appreciate its Easter account. The directive of the young man in a white robe to return to Galilee gives the Gospel of Mark a circular character since Galilee is where Mark's narrative begins.
In the first chapter of Mark, Jesus starts his ministry in Galilee after he is baptized in the Jordan River by John. Jesus teaches, preaches, and heals there for perhaps a year. At the end of his time in Galilee, Jesus admits to Peter that he is the Christ, but a Christ who will be betrayed, killed, and then raised on the third day. This admission comes as Jesus begins his journey to Jerusalem. At the end of that journey in an empty tomb, the disciples are directed to return to Galilee where they will see the risen Christ.
The end of Mark's Gospel directs us back to its beginning. This arc also describes ministry for any of us, I believe. First comes baptism, then love and service, then a journey to confront authority that involves the cross, then new life at Easter, and finally a return to where we began to start the process all over again . . .
I said earlier that there are no resurrection appearances of Jesus in Mark, but perhaps that statement is wrong. Perhaps every appearance of Jesus after his baptism in the Jordan in chapter 1 of Mark is a post-resurrection appearance.
According to St. Paul, we are baptized into Christ's death and raised into new life in Christ. It is the same with Jesus. He is baptized by John where he is also anointed by a dove and hears a voice telling him that he is God's beloved. After the baptism, he spends 40 days in the desert praying and being tempted by Satan. When Jesus returns from the desert, he has accepted his baptism. His old life has died in the Jordan River. He is now living a new life as God's Christ.
Jesus begins his ministry in full awareness of his coming death. He has taken up his cross. He urges us to do the same. And he demonstrates for us what a resurrected life in the shadow of the cross looks like. In every meal he shares with friends and sinners, in every healing, and in every parable he tells about the kingdom of God, Jesus shows us what resurrection looks like. Jesus has been raised from death by God in his baptism, just as he is raised on Easter after his death on Good Friday.
To know what resurrection looks like, we don't need to wait for the later gospel writers to write their accounts of resurrection appearances. We only need to read the Gospel of Mark again, to puzzle at the parables, to marvel at the healings, to be inspired by Jesus' courage, and to follow him to the cross despite having the same fears and doubts that beset his first disciples.
Christ has been raised, declares the young man in white. Now go back to where you began, to Galilee, and continue ministry there in the Spirit of the Risen Christ.
The same words apply to us today, 2,000 years later. Like the three beautiful children who were baptized here in Coronach this morning, we too have been baptized into Christ's death and resurrection. We have all been marked by the sign of the cross. Our old life is dead, and we are living an Easter life that is beyond ego and individuality. It is a life within the enfolding Spirit of God's Love, a life in touch with the eternity of God's Kingdom, now and always.
Do we always live out our baptismal vows? Of course not. Even Jesus sometimes expresses fear and despair, as we heard this week in Mark's accounts of Jesus' prayers in Gethsemane and his cry of anguish on the cross.
Sometimes we may be like the women in the empty tomb on Easter morning. Sometimes we may respond with terror and amazement to the good news that we have been baptized into a resurrected life in Christ.
Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome show great courage in going to Jesus' tomb to anoint his body. But when Jesus' predictions that he would be raised are confirmed by a young man dressed in a white robe, they don't shout for joy. Instead, they flee in terror.
The women must have assumed that their exhilarating ride with Jesus had ended with his death. Though grief-stricken, they might also have felt relief. Jesus' crazy dream of God's Kingdom on earth had been dashed. Jesus' puzzling preaching was at an end. There would be no more confrontations with the authorities. They could now return to their humble lives as fishers and farmers.
Instead, when they hear that Jesus has been raised and are told to return to Galilee, they are afraid. Perhaps they feel burdened by this good news. Jesus has been killed, but God's Christ still lives. With the help of God's Spirit, they are called to continue Christ's ministry despite the crucifixion.
It is not the same with us? As a minister, I may feel burdened by the need to write a sermon that proclaims the good news every week. (And thanks to Arlene for agreeing to preside and preach next week while I enjoy a "spiritual Sunday," April being one of those blessed months in 2012 that contains five Sundays instead of four.) We may feel burdened at the thought of attending church every week. We may have visited the sick in the hospital last week. Do we have to go again? We just sang Hallelujah last Easter. Do we have to do it again?
And of course, the answer to all these questions is "no." God's grace means that we don't have to do anything to be healed.
But then, from time to time, we glimpse what post-baptismal life in Christ is like. We look into the eyes of our child. We spend time with our beloved. We listen to a friend in distress. For a moment, our egos and anxieties dissolve in acts of love and service. We touch God's Spirit that was first symbolized at our baptism. We feel the burdens of life dissolving away. So we preach again. We celebrate again. We sing hallelujah again. We reach out to family, friends, neighbours in love again.
On Good Friday, the Romans tried to kill Love. The good news proclaimed by a young man in a white robe on Easter morning is that God has raised Love to new life, and so ministry continues back in Galilee . . . or in Borderlands.
I love the various stories of Jesus' resurrection appearances in Matthew, Luke and John. They contain an entire universe of the truth of God's love. But so, I believe, does the simple, stark, and realistic ending of Mark's Gospel.
In his ending, Mark directs us back to our baptism and to life and ministry in our home community. It is here that we will encounter the resurrected Jesus. He is the Christ into whom were baptized. He is the Christ we see in every person we meet and love. He is the Christ who draws us out of the empty tomb each Easter morning where, despite our amazement and fear, we say again, Hallelujah! Christ is risen!
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
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