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The Pentecost Rainbow

Mon, 10 Jun 2019 20:42:49 GMT

Today is Pentecost Sunday.
The day we see and hear about some of the great symbols of faith.
The day we all see red!

Traditionally Pentecost is about being surprised,
and being fully enlivened by God’s spirit, as Jesus was.

And Pentecost is about hearing and experiencing
the present-ness of God in a language we can understand...

Not just in English or French or Korean or German,
but also in the language of unemployment,
television commercials, supermarket shopping
and school playgrounds.

But Pentecost is also about unity with the stranger –
God, the Source of Love, does not simply come to the Apostles...
but all hear the message of Love in their own languages.
Pentecost is reminder that the language
Of unity and reconciliation is the mother tongue of Christians.

Our biblical storyteller from the early Christian movements –
tradition has it, it is the one called Luke –
takes the Pentecost tradition he has received and,
with the skill of an artisan, reshapes it
so its abiding significance is there for all to see...

An overwhelming awareness of the present-ness of the Spirit:
joyous praise.

Likewise, in our own time, Australian Uniting Church minister,
Bruce Prewer, in his poem/reflection,
‘City Pentecost’, does something similar.

"Through skyscraper canyons
you come, Holy Spirit,
down lanes and arcades
you come:

"From the north, from the south,
from within and without,
like wind
like wind
the roar of Pure Wind,
you come sweeping through
to renew.

"In houses of parliament
you come, Holy Spirit,
into lawmakers' chambers
you come.

"From above, from below,
from ally and foe,
as truth
as truth
the roar of Pure Truth
you come sweeping through
to renew.

"Through grand gothic arches
you come, Holy Spirit,
to choir and high altar
you come.

"From the west, from the east,
from the font and the feast,
like fire
like fire
the roar of Pure Fire
you come sweeping through
to renew...”

Pentecost is not a one-off experience.
It is for all time, and for all of us.
Not so straight forward is a second story about language –
the story of the tower of Babel.
Scholars are divided over its significance.

Some claim human pride and ambition built the tower,
only to see it collapse and people come to be scattered,
no longer able to live together in harmony.

While those shaped by Liberation Theology,
especially Third World and indigenous peoples,
suggest it is about freedom...
freedom to speak their own language
rather than the language of the dominant group.

Either way I hope my next story might help us
hear the language of unity.

Once upon a time,
all the colours in the world started to quarrel.
Each claimed that she was
the best,
the most important,
the most useful,
the favourite.

Green said:
Clearly I am the most important.
I am the sign of life and hope.
I was chosen for grass, trees, leaves.
Without me all the animals would die.
Look out over the countryside and you will see
that I am in the majority.

Blue interrupted:
You only think about the earth,
but consider the sky and the sea.
It is water that is the basis of life
and this is drawn up by the clouds from the blue sea.
The sky gives space and peace and serenity.
Without my peace you would all be nothing but busybodies.

Yellow chuckled:
You are all so serious.
I bring laughter, gaiety and warmth into the world.
The sun is yellow,
the moon is yellow,
the stars are yellow.
Every time you look at a sunflower
the whole world starts to smile.
Without me there would be no fun.

Orange started next to blow her own trumpet:
I am the colour of health and strength.
I may be scarce, but I am precious
for I serve the inner needs of human life.
I carry all the most important vitamins.
Think of carrots and pumpkins,
oranges, mangoes and pawpaws.
I don't hang around all the time,
but when I fill the sky at sunrise or sunset,
my beauty is so striking that no one
gives another thought to any of you.

Red could stand it not longer. He shouted out:
I’m the ruler of you all, blood, life's blood.
I am the colour of danger and of bravery.
I am willing to fight for a cause.
I bring fire in the blood.
Without me the earth would be empty as the moon.
I am the colour of passion and of love,
the red rose, poinsettia and poppy.

Purple rose up to his full height.
He was very tall and spoke with great pomp:
I am the colour of royalty and power.
Kings, chiefs and bishops have always chosen me
for I am a sign of authority and wisdom.
People do not question me.
They listen and obey.

Indigo spoke much more quietly than all the others,
but just as determinedly:
Think of me. I am the colour of silence.
You hardly notice me,
but without me,
you all become superficial.
I represent thought and reflection,
twilight and deep waters.
You need me for balance and contrast,
for prayer and inner peace.

And so the colours went on boasting,
each convinced that they were the best.
Their quarrelling became louder and louder.

Suddenly there was a startling flash of brilliant white lightning.
Thunder rolled and boomed.
Rain started to pour down relentlessly.

The colours all crouched down in fear,
drawing close to one another for comfort.

Then Rain spoke:
You foolish colours, fighting among yourselves,
each trying to dominate the rest.

Do you not know that God made you all?
Each for a special purpose, unique and different.
God loves you all.
God wants you all.

Join hands with one another and come with me.
God will stretch you across the sky in a great bow of colour,
as a reminder of that love for you all,
so you can appreciate each other and live together in peace.

Pentecost – God’s presence and extravagant love call us
to live a life of extravagant generosity
beyond ideas and images and behaviour
that lock us into fear, timidity,
and a diminishing understanding of our true selves.
Pentecost calls us to recognize God’s presence
in both our lives that those of others.

Alleluia! Christ is Risen!

Sun, 28 Apr 2019 20:39:07 GMT

Alleluia, Christ is Risen! Christ is risen indeed, Alleluia!

This morning, I want to say a word about Easter, a word taken from one of the great Eastern images of the mystery of the resurrection, an icon that has been a part of the Christian vision of what the Resurrection is all about since around the year 600.

I have been powerfully drawn to this icon lately, and I want to talk about it a bit this morning. Let’s take a look. Remember: icons are about the theological meaning of people and events; they aren’t representative art like we might typically encounter. Icons are never depictions of exactly what happened. They’re pictures of what things mean. So, an icon of the Resurrection doesn’t show what the resurrection might have looked like back then—an icon of the Resurrection shows what it means now.

Look at it. Here, the risen Lord stands triumphant on the gates of hell while Satan, bound in chains, looks helplessly on. Some of the heroes of the Old Covenant—David, Solomon, Moses John the Baptist, folks like that—frame the scene, showing that all of God’s dealing with humanity have led up to this moment, and are fulfilled by this moment. But Jesus doesn’t just stand there and look smug;
he doesn’t bask in the glory of his victory. Instead, look, he’s reaching out with wounded hands,
grabbing Adam and Eve and raising them from their own death—which is symbolized by the coffins they are standing on—toward new life with him. He’s pulling them up.

I want to offer you this image, this truly ancient interpretation of Resurrection, not just because it’s beautiful, but because this is what Easter means today. This is Easter—right here and right now.

Easter is both about Jesus and about us. First of all, the Resurrection is about Jesus. As an historical event, it’s both a powerful sign of who Jesus is, and it’s also a vindication of Jesus’ life, his teachings, and his death. Easter shows the life of Jesus to be the way of life for all creation, and it proclaims that nothing is more powerful than that life. All of that is about Jesus. At the same time, Easter is about us.
It’s about what Jesus is doing right now, and right here, for each and every one of us.

Behold, this isn’t really a picture of Adam and Eve—this is a picture of you and me. This is who we are and where we stand, exactly and precisely, this Easter morning. Christ is risen, and he has reached out with wounded hands, and grasped you by the hand, and he is even at this moment pulling you away from whatever coffins you are in, from whatever deaths you know and fight and fear. Jesus is, at this moment, drawing you toward himself, and toward new life with him. This is what’s happening now. This is why we’re here today.

There’s more. We can see in this icon not only what Jesus has done and is doing, but also our own marching orders—a clear vision of how we should live in response to what Jesus is doing. All of that is in the figures of Adam and Eve, of you and me. I want to look at just two pieces of this rich scene.

The first thing Adam and Eve show is that our eyes need to be fixed on Jesus if we are going anywhere. If our attention is on ourselves, or if it’s back on whatever our personal coffins happen to be, or if it’s on the scenery around us, then more than likely we’ll stay right where we are.
If we look for life and direction and meaning anywhere but at the risen Lord—then our hearts will be divided, and our energy will be scattered, and our rising will be slow indeed. Somehow, the face of Jesus needs to fill our vision and capture our will—else we will be stuck. That’s the first thing.
The second is that Jesus needs us to help. The Lord has grasped us—that is a gift. He is drawing us to him, and to his life—that is fact. There is nothing we have to do to make any of this happen. It’s going on right now. But we can help. We can join our efforts to his effort. We can say “yes” to the hand that holds us and the arm that draws us forward. Remember, Jesus will live for us and he will die for us;
he will call us, and he will grasp us; he will lead us away from the familiar and toward all sorts of new possibilities. He will make all manner of things possible and rich with joy. But he will not coerce us—he will not force us. Real love, mature love, never coerces, it never forces. It invites.So, we can consent. We can cooperate. Like Adam and Eve in the icon, we can both focus our attention and direct our behavior toward accepting the offer being made, the hand being extended.

What we do, our behavior, can be in harmony with what Jesus is doing; our efforts can be joined with his. This is not automatic. There are all sorts of ways and reasons to resist the resurrection grasp and the upward tug of the risen Lord. We may be complacent, we may be afraid, we may be content,
we may be so self-absorbed, or so absorbed with things, or with some one thing, that we can see no farther than that. That may be happening to us; we may be resisting. We may well need to deal with one form of this or another.

And while that may be where we are, it isn’t where Jesus is. Jesus is here. Jesus is—this instant—standing on the broken gates of death and hell and wrapping his hands around you and beginning to lift you away from the old life of brokenness and into new life with him. That’s where Jesus is right now. That’s what Easter is about this very instant. That’s what this day is about. That’s what is most important. That’s the vision that we are here to comprehend, and to celebrate, and to make our own. The rest will follow. But this comes first. He is drawing us to himself.

Alleluia, Christ is Risen! He is Risen Indeed, Alleluia!

White Privilege

Sat, 16 Feb 2019 20:11:32 GMT

February is Black History month in Canada and we’re encouraged to mark this event in our worship in some way. Last year I had a black colleague come and speak to us…but this year I’m in a very different place. I think we need to do our own work – not ask others to spoon feed us.

This morning I’m going to open up a topic that most of us in the room will be sensitive to, maybe even uncomfortable with – white privilege. I could talk about racism but that can take on a confrontational sensibility. I don’t think we’re a racist community of faith however most of us here have benefited from the almost invisible culture of whiteness that exists in Canada.

Individuals in the Indigenous Study Group, as well as many of you after some sermons, have come to me and said, “Teresa, this stuff is depressing and so big, what can we do about it?” Well, friends, this is the beginning of an answer to that question.

For the last thirty years scholars have been wrestling with the various ways the current racial order offers white people in general, and them in particular, certain advantages and privileges as a white person. You may not be aware but the notion of race is a relatively recent occurrence. And if you trace it back, it has it’s roots in capitalism, in the need of Europeans for more manual laborers than they could readily supply. Of course, the solution was slavery – the capture and forced labor of African peoples. (Yes, there were also Indigenous slaves and indentured white servants but the majority were African. And yes, this happened in Canada too.) As slavers began to pillage Africa, Europeans began to attempt to justify this behaviour by defining the notion of race and assigning it social attributes. At the very same time, in Victorian England, notions of cultural superiority and the Eugenics movement were becoming quite mainstream. The result was an understanding of the “white” race as intellectually and socially superior to other races. This justified slavery.

In the last four hundred years, we have refined this sense of superiority and, in the process made it almost invisible. Think of a fish swimming in the water – he has no idea what water is or that there is the possibility of life without it. That’s like us, we swim in a sea of white privilege that completely immerses us.

I remember in seminary I had a class on the Old Testament. In that class I learned that Moses was married to an Ethiopian woman. I had always understood that Jesus was Middle Eastern and I accepted that the majority of characters within the bible stories were not white. But in that class, fellow African Canadian students shared that they had mostly felt like outsiders in the stories that came from the bible – it was never their story. They had been taught about a white saviour who was going to save them.

Seeing this story through their eyes woke something in me. Because in reality, Jesus was a brown man. Hearing that Moses was married to an Ethiopian made me realize that black people were just as prevalent in these stories. In fact, if anything, white people were probably in the minority. But how have we learned this story? We have been shown pictures of a white Moses, a white Mary and Joseph, and a white Jesus. I knew on some level this was problematic but I’d never stopped to consider its implications.

It was as if a veil had been lifted from my eyes. I saw how the dominate white culture had stolen a story that belonged to its people of origin and changed it into a story about themselves. That is what colonization does, that is what people in power do. In doing so, this white version of God and Jesus encouraged more reliance on and referral to the dominant white culture.

This was a painful experience and it took a surprising turn – I realized that deep down inside my own racist underpinnings, I held to a belief that white people were nicer, kinder, they wanted to help others, they would never colonize others in this manner.

And yet, whites like us, did this. Peeling back the layers of privilege and dominance, it opened my eyes to the reality that white people were not more caring or benevolent. In fact, it made me see that whites were interested in keeping this myth alive so that they could also keep the power. Ministers and people of faith have preached from pulpits for centuries about this white Jesus.

Artists have carried on this myth for so long that when I showed a group of children a painting of a black Jesus, they laughed at it. That wasn’t Jesus, Jesus was white, everyone knows that. This way of supporting white privilege keeps us in ignorance about how prevalent this power is. When we live in a culture that supports us in the lifestyle we have, we don’t realize it’s even happening.

Let me give you an example of what I’m talking about. When I was a Franciscan I travelled once a month via highway 401. I would set my speed on cruise control at 115 kilometres when I left London and take it off when I got to Mississauga. I was purposely speeding and I knew it. I knew I might get stopped but the risk was relatively low. So guess what? I did get stopped – three times in four years. And each and every time, the officer took one look at me, a nice, white woman in a sedan and let me off the hook with a warning. Every time. I was never issued a ticket.

Now imagine if I was a young black man. What do you suppose might have happened?

I have a middle-aged black colleague who shared a story of being pulled over at night on his way home from the gym. In four years, he has been pulled over 17 times. This particular time his signal light was out. Because he was sweaty, the officer immediately assumed he was high and made him get out of the car to do a sobriety test. He passed. The officer ticketed him for the signal light but forgot to give him back his license. I told him to go to the police station and get it back. He said, “No way, I’ll go to Service Ontario and get a new one.” He was afraid to approach the police because he automatically assumed the worst would happen because of the colour of his skin. And looking at the news – he was right to worry. And what happened to me during those speeding stops? The police immediately assumed the best, I was safe, a white person, just like them.

Friends, that is white privilege.

With all that’s going on with race issues these days,

I felt I really needed to tackle this sense of privilege that is mine simply because I am melatonin-challenged. There is an article by Peggy McIntosh, entitled White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack , that lays out fifty ways in which white people are privileged. I won’t share all fifty with you but you can google the article if you want to read all of them.

Here are a few that really struck me:

1. I can, if I wish, arrange to be in the company of people of my race most of the time. Do you even think about this? I don’t. And yet people of colour do every day. An African-Canadian friend of mine said that the first thing she does when she walks into an event or a meeting is to see if there are any other people of colour in the room. I never think about this. EVER. That is white privilege.

2. I can avoid spending time with people of other races quite easily. I don’t even have to purposely avoid this, it just doesn’t happen often. This is not true for people of colour in our community.

3. If I need to move, I can be fairly sure of renting or buying housing in an area which I can afford and which I want to live. I have moved many times in my adult life. I have never had to worry about this. That is white privilege.

4. I can go shopping alone and be sure that I will not be harassed or followed in the store.

5. I can turn on the TV or open the front page of the paper and see people of my race widely represented.

6. When I was taught about our national history, I was shown that the people of my colour made it what it is.

7. When I cash cheques or use credit cards I can count on my skin colour not to work against the appearance of financial responsibility. A friend tells a story of shopping with a black friend. They went to the grocery store. Her friend wrote a cheque (yep, small towns still do this) and the cashier brought out a listing of folks who had written bad cheques and went through it before accepting her cheque. My friend also wrote a cheque, but the cashier did not review the list. That is white privilege.

8. I can swear, or dress in second clothes or not answer emails or phone calls without having people attribute these choices to bad morals, poverty or the illiteracy of my race. Think about it, how many white people do you know that do things like this and we think that is just them, but do you ever blame a white person’s race for this? I saw a meme on Facebook that said “A Muslim commits a crime and we blame his whole religion. A Black man commits a crime and we blame his race. A white man commits a terrible crime and we say that he is mentally unstable and a lone wolf. We never blame a white person’s whole race for their behaviour. That is white privilege.

9. If I ask to speak to the person in charge, I can be pretty sure that I will be facing a person of my own race.

10. I can feel welcomed and normal in the usual walks of public, institutional and social life.

Those are just ten of the fifty privileges listed in McIntosh’s article. In our communities, white culture is the norm. I think that’s why we are so uncomfortable when we hear about race-based protests like Black Lives Matter or Idle No More.

Our own denomination has been active in these protests. We’ve been working towards being an intercultural church for twelve years now. Yet we still have racism in our church, we still have white privilege at work here too! And as long as white privilege dictates that black and brown and red and yellow lives don’t matter as much as white lives, we will need to continue this work. And be honest about it.

Long ago, I gave up on the concept of evil. I did not believe in an embodied force or devil that was trying to work against us. Yet I confess, when my eyes were opened to the enormous system that has been created to support white privilege, I became overwhelmed with the complexity and size. I can no longer pretend that it doesn’t exist. I do know AND with each moment I GAIN, as a white person who lives within this system.

This awareness and the overall feeling that we can’t escape from this system defines evil for me now. It scares me. It seems so wildly out of control and, as a person who is called to serve, I must do something about it, and that’s frightening too.

Friends, the system is so big, so supported and so ingrained that we can’t separate ourselves from it. So what do we do?

First, we educate ourselves so that we recognize where we stand. Being honest about white privilege, recognizing it, and naming it is an important first step. We need to recognize that we’re swimming in waters polluted by this white privilege.

We need to get real with ourselves, and get honest about privilege. We need to continue to evolve so that we are a community that stands up and speaks out against rulings and policies that are unjust. We need to call out privilege even when it may cause us discomfort. We need to call out the neighbour who makes a racist joke. We need to speak up when someone refers to “those people.” Our silence keeps white privilege strong and in place.

This is a call to roll up our sleeves, talk with open hearts to one another to create strong anti-racist and anti-oppression partnerships within the wider community, and to become allies with those who are on the outside of this system of privilege. To that end, during Lent, I want to invite you to consider participating in our Lenten study on white privilege. We’re going to be following a curriculum written by our partners in the United Church of Christ in the U.S. I will be adding Indigenous content and Canadian examples to the program as we go along.

Friends, it is time to really wake up. Justice means each person is treated with respect and dignity, not just some. Justice means that we all share in the bounty of this earth, not just some. Justice means equity for all, not just some. Justice means telling our Christian story as if it really were good news for all. Amen.

Remembrance Day - Is 100 Years Enough?

Tue, 13 Nov 2018 20:08:30 GMT

Among my most vivid childhood memories are the times when,

with my Girl Guide Company,

I stood in solemn silence remembering.

When we assembled to observe Remembrance Day

there was the singing of O Canada,

the recitation of In Flanders Fields,

and most compellingly for me, the standing in silence.

But what did I, a child born in peacetime with no experience

or memory of war, remember?

I remembered stories I’d been told.

Stories such as how the son of the widow who lived next door

to my family was killed in the dying days of World War II.

As I grew older, and continued to mark two minutes of silence

on Remembrance Day, there was more to remember;

stories of people throughout the world for whom conflict and war

was not a memory, but a daily reality with terrible costs.

And with these stories came the conviction that remembering

included the imperative to work for peace.

Later still, in 1990, I stood amidst other members of my congregation

on Remembrance Sunday and hoped to draw some strength

from their presence.

I had even more to remember now including the stories and faces

of close to one hundred Canadian soldiers killed in Afghanistan.

Many of their faces were distressingly similar to that of my brother,

a reservist, who had volunteered to serve in the Middle East.

I prayed for him, as I did every day, longing for his safe return

and that of his friends and comrades.

A few days later I remembered again in the company

of the wider community gathered at a local cenotaph,

and among other yearnings,

hoped that the following Remembrance Day

I would not be laying a wreath in my brother’s memory.

What does it mean to remember by marking two minutes of silence,

wearing a poppy, laying a wreath, or participating in

other aspects of Remembrance Day ceremonies?

Surely there is a complex web of meanings,

but Remembrance Day rituals,

together with the storytelling that accompanies them,

are meant to help us express and create meaning

out of the myriad of experiences in our lives,

particularly those associated with war and armed conflict.

I have heard colleagues say that one hundred years is enough –

perhaps it is time to end the Remembrance Day rituals in church.

Is participation in the observances beneficial for Christians

trying to make sense of war,

and is there a place for them in the context of our worship?

Deciding to engage in Remembrance Day observances,

or refusing to be part of them,

involves an interpretation of the meaning

of the rituals and the stories that undergird them.

Margaret Mary Kelleher, in her article on Liturgical Theology,

provides a helpful framework for describing and interpreting

the web of meanings of Remembrance Day rituals.

Kelleher distinguishes among the public meaning of a rite, that is,

the interpretation that most of the people share who engage in

or carefully observe the ritual; the official meaning which is concerned with the significance the originators or officials give to the rite; and the private meaning referring to the individual significance of the rite to some of the participants. [1]

The official civic focus of Remembrance Day is remembering

those who died in service to their country

and that we must work for peace. [2]

The quandary of Canadian Members of Parliament

about how and when to honour the first anniversary

of the signing of the Armistice was resolved by King George V.

On 7 November 1919, the king issued a proclamation addressed

to “all the peoples of the Empire”, calling for a two-minute Silence

at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month

“so that in perfect stillness the thoughts of everyone may be

concentrated on reverent remembrance of the glorious dead”.

The King’s wishes were observed and the impact of the Silence

led to calls for it to be repeated; in subsequent years

the ritual was elaborated to include bugle calls before and after

the Silence, prayers and hymns, recitations,

and the national anthem. [3]

In 1921, the same year as the poppy was introduced in Canada

as a symbol for the remembrance of war dead,

Armistice Day was established as an official holiday in Canada.

Significantly, the legislation was amended in 1931

to change “Armistice” to “Remembrance” Day and later

the commemoration expanded to include remembrance of war

dead from World War II, the Korean War, other conflicts,

and peacekeeping missions. [4]

The focus is remembrance, not militarism or the glorification of war,

and the two-minute silence was established as the central act of

remembrance.

Adrian Gregory, in The Silence of Memory,

explains that the power of the Silence for participants

was that it provided a public, united action and,

at the same time, a private commemoration in which individuals

could be alone with their thoughts.

However, the observance of Armistice Day “was part of a sustained

and creative effort to give meaning and purpose to the terrifying and unexpected experience of mass death” [5]

and from the first anniversary of the Armistice

there were conflicting interpretations.

Church and state used the language of sacrifice,

of both the combatants and their bereaved families,

to offer consolation;

the dead had not died in vain but had furthered

the cause of justice and peace.

At the same time, alternative narratives and interpretations

were offered by church and society;

participants must remember (and not forget)

that the world had not been delivered from the perils of war,

and militarism had not created peace.

One Hundred years later, Remembrance Day highlights

the continuing struggle to find some individual and collective

meaning or purpose in millions more war dead

in the changing context of our world, its wars, and its weaponry.

Christian communities are not exempt from this struggle;

especially not a congregation may well include individuals

whose tendencies range from supportive of the military to pacifist.

Over the years many individuals in our congregation,

far more than the 42 who died,

have been caught up in armed conflict or war,

either as combatants or civilians;

and all of us have some knowledge of war.

Even biblical readings expose us to images and stories

of war and military metaphors.

Remembrance Day observances can be a resource in our worship

to help us respond collectively, within a Christian framework,

to our war-filled human story and struggles,

but the rituals must be honest and help us evaluate our individual and cultural interpretations of the meaning of war in light of the Gospel.

One way to evaluate if our Remembrance Day observances

are honest is to apply the criterion Herbert Anderson and Edward

Foley insist on in Mighty Stories, Dangerous Rituals.

They assert that to be honest our rituals and stories must balance

parabolic and mythic forms of storytelling.

Myths bring together and reconcile opposites, such as war and peace,

and boldly create the belief that reconciliation and a better future

are possible.

Parables focus on contradiction, leave room for ambiguity,

and face hard realities. [6]

The symbols we use such as poppies and silence,

and the images we set out in the prayers, hymns,

readings and sermons must balance comfort and promised stability

with an admission and acknowledgement of the painful, real-life experiences of people,

and the need for transformation to achieve a more authentic peace and reconciliation.

They need to respond to our struggle to understand when Christians

can justify war, and call us to recommit ourselves,

in the words of our baptismal covenant,

to strive for justice and peace among all people,

and to respect the dignity of every human being.

Our vision is costly, not cheap, grace; hope, not despair.

We must evaluate our symbols and actions of Remembrance Day,

and the stories that undergird them, in light of the gospel.

We need to be intentional about what vision of the Kingdom of God

we are expressing through our observances, and conscious of what they are teaching us

about who we are and who Jesus Christ is, because we will be shaped and formed by our participation.

But through our participation and action we must also shape

and interpret our Remembrance Day observances

so they honestly reflect both our human stories and the gospel.

So, yes, participating in Remembrance Day observances

can be beneficial for Christians trying to make sense of war

and loss, and yes, there can be a place for them

in the context of Christian worship, but only if they are honest

and help us to evaluate our interpretations

and justifications of war in light of our own lived experiences

and understandings.

Whether we have succeeded this year, I will leave to you to decide.

[1] M.M. Kelleher, “Liturgical Theology: A Task and a Method.” Worship. 62.1(1988), 2-25.

[2] Veteran Affairs Canada. A Day of Remembrance. Her Majesty the Queen in Right of Canada represented by the Minister of Veteran Affairs, 2005.

[3] Adrian Gregory. The Silence of Memory: Armistice Day 1919-1946. Oxford: Berg Publishers, 1994.

[4] www.warmuseum.ca/cwm/ exhibitions.remember/armisticeday. Retrieved 30 October 2018.

[5] The Silence of Memory, p. 19.

[6] Herbert Anderson and Edward Foley. Mighty Stories, Dangerous Rituals: Weaving Together the Human and the Divine. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass., Publishers, 1998.

Our Choices of Language Make a Difference in Worship

Mon, 22 Oct 2018 20:05:14 GMT

Have you ever thought about why language matters?

Any child who has ever been bullied understands the lie implicit in ‘sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me.’ Words matter. As one of my professors observed years ago, “language forms and informs.” Language tells us about our cultural norms and, at the same time, encourages to move beyond our comfort zone. Nowhere is this clearer than in the case of liturgical language. There is no such thing as “traditional” language in the liturgy. From the early days of the church language familiar to the speakers present, otherwise known as the vernacular, has been used when Christians gathered collectively to pray.

In the year 313 Roman Emperor Constantine’s Edict of Toleration officially tolerated Christianity as a religion within the Roman Empire: this meant Christians could gather publicly without threat of death. Contrary to popular belief, Christianity didn’t become the official religion of the Empire until 380 under the rule of Theodosius but it is safe to say that these men changed the nascent church dramatically. Churches moved, for the first time, into Roman public buildings, the clergy took on the clothing of the Roman elite, and, more importantly for the topic at hand, changed the language of worship from that of the local dialect to Latin. Shifting away from Latin as the universal liturgical language was a major catalyst of the Protestant Reformers. The Reformers, with their emphasis on the authority of scripture, wanted worshippers to hear and understand what was happening in the liturgy. This call to return to the language of everyday was also part of the impetus behind the translation of the King James Bible. The King wanted to have God’s words “properly” translated into English. While his version wasn’t the first bible in the vernacular, it is arguably the best known. Bear in mind that the King James Version was written in the contemporary language of the translators. Thus words like thee and thou were used. This does not mean that we need to use such language in worship. In fact, we are not in keeping with the Christian tradition if we trap language in the 16th century.

How do we choose words for worship?

There are a wide variety of responses to such a question. Some traditions, like our Roman Catholic and Methodist colleagues, tend to use approved texts for worship; others not at all. Within a single denomination some congregations may follow denominational worship books; others might “tweak” or even write prayers that speak directly to local concerns, while still others might pray extemporaneously. Whatever way you, as a worship leader chooses, you need to be aware of the power of words. Liturgists refer to the axiom lex orendi, lex credendi – loosely translated ‘as we worship, so we believe.’ A committee or General Council ruling has never changed the hearts of the people. If you want to change what people believe (or to deepen their faith) you need to do so by softening their hearts. How do hearts soften? – By shifting the language of worship. Think of Jesus’ use of the ‘Abba”: listeners must have been shocked to hear such an intimate term ‘daddy’ used for God the Almighty. Yet in no time his disciples were using such language with ease.

Thirty years ago we began such a linguistic shift when we began using inclusive language in worship. At the time this seemed very bold, even provocative. Some people in the church dismissed it as ‘political correctness’ that had no place in worship. Nothing could have been further from the truth: those struggling to implement such language understood that something deeply theological lay beneath this linguistic change: the belief that all are made in the image of God and are to be treated with equality and respect. Furthermore, God is bigger than our narrow Trinitarian language suggests: God is Father, Son, and Spirit, but also Creator, Redeemer, Rock, Comforter…the list goes on. Today inclusive language isn’t a burning issue in the United Church: most congregations have moved to the use of inclusive language. Some more conservative believers felt that inclusive language was dangerously innovative, yet a quick look at the storehouse of Christian tradition shows a rich variety of images and ways of speaking about our relationship with the Holy One. As a church we deepened our understanding of God and our role in God’s creation because of this change in language that we experienced in worship.

So what should worship leaders keep in mind when preparing worship:

(a) Seek balance between the historical and the new: texts passed down from earlier Christian era offer us a way to connect to our shared faith, to the great cloud of witnesses who have gone before us. Denominational resources hold our church’s memory, nurture our spirits and remind us who we are as Christians of a particular ilk. However, worship also needs to address our culture in its particular time and place: address both the pain and the blessing of your community by praying from the heart. You might even try praying spontaneously!

(b) Build in diversity: use a cross-section of names for God. Remember that our choice of God language has the power to expand or contract worshippers understanding of the Holy One. Furthermore, your favourite names for God may not be heard in the way you intend them. E.g. ‘Father’ falls differently on the ear of one with a beloved parent than on the ear of one abused.

(c) Build community: be careful in writing prayers and invitations to prayer. Ask yourself whether your words build up the congregation or foster division. E.g. shifting away from us/them language to prayers for “those of us who”. We never know all that lies in the hearts of our congregants, don’t assume those in need doesn’t include those in the pews (or the pulpit!) Carefully monitor worship language so that it is free of “in-words’, acronyms or codes: these can lead to some feeling excluded.

(d) Be missional: use words that include both congregation members and those beyond the church doors with the same compassion and caring. Include the deep needs of our world: hope, peace, wholeness, and justice. E.g. During the announcements stress the invitation to, and indication of, God’s work in our world.

(e) Seek freedom: it is a deep challenge to use liturgical language that is freeing for worshippers. Ask yourself: does this prayer open hearts to deeper peace? Does it point the way to growth or transformation? Does it eliminate barriers or leave people wallowing in brokenness?

(f) Tell the truth: One of the most daunting challenges facing the contemporary church is that of decolonization; how do we use non-imperialistic and post-colonial language? How do we ‘unhook’ our Western cultures from our current liturgies so that the gospel, once again, can truly be good news for all? (Editor’s note: future issues will be addressing these concerns.)

(g) Be humble: this work can appear quite intimidating to worship leaders. I have learned that the best way to settle into liturgical writing is by preparing your heart and mind. Acknowledge that we never know the total impact of our words. Ask the Spirit to guide both your intellect and your compassion. And be grateful that there is always the next Sunday to try again.

Liturgy as Drama

Sat, 20 Oct 2018 20:01:44 GMT

Have you ever thought of worship as a drama? Not a dramatic reading, or a small play in worship, but rather the entire unfolding of Sunday liturgy as dramatic? Our Christian liturgy is rooted in the practices and texts of Jewish worship and we share many symbolic acts and texts by which we bless, thank, remember, and petition God. By the fourth century, in both Eastern and Western worship, the liturgy itself was viewed as a divine drama. Church fathers, like Theodore of Mopsuestia, described the liturgy as “a series of episodes representing scriptural events.” In other words, liturgy, as a whole, was a dramatic re-telling of the story of salvation. By the medieval period, many independent religious dramas that taught the basics of Christianity were being performed, quite separately from the Sunday worship. Today remnants of such teaching traditions can be found in cultural events such as Holy Week processions, the world-famous Oberammergau Passion play, or in the manner in which some congregation animate or dramatize scripture readings.

The liturgical renewal of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries has focused more attention on the structure and enactment of liturgical forms instead of focusing strictly on the texts themselves. Worship is neither theatre nor political praxis but is a form of symbolic action through which the community rehearses its relationship with God. The gestures of the ritual take on equal importance with the texts of the prayers, the words of which are “speech-acts” (not statements), vocal gestures by which the worshipping community enacts its relationship with each other and with God. The performance is not strictly theatrical, rather, it is the re-enactment of the life of the community with its members playing various roles according to the traditions of the denomination. Such an understanding of liturgy is equally applicable in high liturgical and free worship traditions.

Think of a play: it has a beginning, laying out of the problem/issue, the solving of the challenge, and the ending. So too, does the Sunday liturgy: it gathers participants who physically represent the church as it comes together for worship. When everyone is gathered, the celebrant leads them in opening prayers, a quest for the right state of mind and heart needed to hear the gospel proclaimed. The stage has been set, now the first act of the drama is ready to begin: the Liturgy of the Word. A member of the congregation emerges from the crowd, just as the Hebrew prophets and the early disciples did, to declare the word of God. It is then the task of the preacher to expand upon the scripture readings of the day so that the people understand the import of what they have heard in this first act of the drama.

With the gathering and presentation of the offering, the second act of the drama begins: the Liturgy of the Table. I must note here, that Communion is the norm for the liturgy – when Communion is not part of the liturgy, the prayers of thanksgiving and intercession remain. Thinking through the Communion liturgy, the offering includes the bread and wine, basic foods to sustain life. Two people carry them to the Communion table in the hope that God will take our physical food and change them into spiritual nourishment. The celebrant them leads the people in lifting up their hearts in praise (Sursum Corda) so that together they can sing the ancient hymn of worship (Sanctus) and again affirm their deep desire to be among the worshipping community (Benedictus). Then follows the Prayer of the Holy Spirit by means God blesses the gifts of bread and wine. A time of reflection, thanksgiving, and petition follows and united the congregation shares the Great Amen. Then each person is called to make their own personal journey to receive God’s gifts. Receiving Communion, spiritually restored and strengthened, they return to their seats. At the conclusion of Communion, the presider once again assures the gathered faithful of God’s blessings, and together they sing a hymn of praise before being dismissed with the instruction to go forth to love and serve our Creator. Thus we enact the cosmic drama of our own salvation through our participation in worship.

The Offering - Admission or Gift

Mon, 14 May 2018 19:57:19 GMT

In most United Churches, on any given Sunday, an offering is made by congregation members. The offering originates in the early days of the Christian church. One could even argue that it was instituted by Christ himself in the way which the disciples pooled their resources in common.

In the days of the house churches, people would gather on the Lord’s Day for worship and a communal meal: the original potluck luncheon. All the food would be placed on a communal table where the food would be blessed and then shared (1 Cor. 11:17). All in the community, from the poorest to the wealthiest, would be fed and cared for. These gifts of food were considered “peace offerings” in much the same way as Jews offered such gifts in the temple.

Justin Martyr, the second-century theologian, living in a Roman world full of sacrificial offerings argued that the new church’s offerings were not sacrificial in the sense of Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross. He held that the offering collections were gifts of thanksgiving to God.

This practice of a communal meal worked well in the first century house churches, however, when Emperor Constantine declared the Roman Empire Christian in the fourth century, the house churches were unable to absorb the masses of converts that came to worship. The churches moved into the large Roman court houses. The shared meal with its expansive offerings was no longer practical. The people adapted and continued to bring simply bread and wine as they always done. But the agape meal was relegated to history.

For almost a thousand years members of the church brought not only bread and wine, but also, at times, candles, oil, wheat, honey, grapes and other precious items. These material offerings were processed up to the communion table by church members. Deacons would then distribute these gifts among the poor and needy.

By the medieval period the bringing of material gifts was slowly replaced by a monetary gift. The parish priests, buoyed by the belief that God deserved only the best of offerings, charged that the bread and wine being proffered were of inferior quality. Thus, the offertory was replaced by the presentation of the collection of money.

Why We Give

The offering is an integral part of worship. Throughout human history humanity offered gifts to God. Not simply a collection of money, the offering is a gift of the people’s lives in response to the Gospel. The offering functions as a symbol of our lives and our relationship with both God and the created world. It is a response to God’s goodness. The offering is a time to recognize that everything we have is from God and that we are blessed to be able to give something back. We give only what we have; not what we wish we could give or what we might have in the future. We give within the boundaries of our resources. Paul says in Hebrews 13:16, “Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God.”

It is easy to focus on the money aspect of giving as we watch the offering plates be passed, but the offering is always much more: it is an offering of our tithes, talent, and time.

The concept of tithing was practiced extensively in the Old Testament faith communities. A tithe was a one-tenth part of something, paid to a religious organization. Now voluntary, historically tithes were required and paid in kind, with such items as agricultural products. The Temple was, in fact, set up to receive such tithes (Rom. 15:16). Many Canadians today struggle with the concept of tithing however, if one views all the financial gifts given to charities, community causes, and churches, as part of the tithe many church members are giving close to one-tenth of their income. Alongside our financial gifts we give of our time and talents. Whether it is coaching hockey or teaching in the children’s church, there is no limit to the ways we make our lives an offering to God.

This expanded sense of the offering is closer to that of the scriptural witness (See 1 Cor. 16:2; 2 Cor. 9:7, and Acts 4:35, 37). The theological crisis of the offering is our utter inability to be able to give directly to God. All we can do, as a response to God’s generosity, is to give to our neighbours and community of faith. This has little to do with balancing the church’s budget and everything to do with the transformation of both the givers, and the world in which we live.

In part the paucity of our theology of giving has resulted in problems with how the offering is taken up and presented. In some communities there is embarrassment about the offering as if it were a sort of payment for spiritual services rendered. Unlike purchasing a ticket for a movie, the offering is not an admission fee. Other people who are participating in the PAR program are, at times, embarrassed by passing the plate without contributing. Some churches handle this discomfort by distributing cards that can be placed in the offering plate. The question remains: how do we rethink the offering to make it a meaningful part of worship?

When We Give

The placement of the offertory is a bit of a moveable feast. Some churches take up the offering directly following the children’s time. Others take up the offering directly after the opening prayer. Both positions allow for the children and youth to participate in the offering as a sort of “first fruit offering.” Still other churches take up the offering following the Minute for Mission, making the offering a theological response to the sermon and Minute for Mission. On a Communion Sunday this approach is the first movement in the celebration of the Eucharist. Finally, there are some churches who place the collection of the offering at the end of the service. In this position the offering acts as a response to the entire service. In deciding when to gather the collection, consider what is you wish to communicate to the community of faith.

How We Give

Most United Churches still pass either offering plates or baskets to gather the offering collection, however, many churches have dispensed with the in-service collection altogether. Some churches have tried putting a basket at the entrances to the church to gather contributions. Surprisingly no detrimental financial effects were reported. Still other churches use a box with a small slit on top to help with privacy. Church members report that they appreciate the anonymity and lack of pressure in this approach. While this may seem a distant future, some churches are already exploring the possibilities of “church apps” by which one can make donations to the church simply by using their cell phones. However, you gather your resources, plan to bring these gifts to the communion table in procession.

Why We Bring Up the Offering

From a theological perspective, having individuals who reflect the age and diversity of the gathered community to process the offering up to the Communion Table is preferable. Best practices would be to offer everyone in the community of faith an opportunity to take part in the offering procession over time. The procession helps people to understand, in a visible and dramatic way, the significance of the offering as the gifts of the people.

What We Give

The gathering of monetary gifts is a limited response to God’s grace in that it only accounts for the tithe and not the gifts of talent and time. The following are suggestions about what else could be processed in and given as gifts.

· On a Communion Sunday have someone in the faith community bake fresh bread.

· Collect gifts of food to be given away to those in need.

· Prayer shawls or quilts can be dedicated as part of the offering.

· Gather gifts of toiletries, socks, mittens or hats that later can be donated to those in need.

Ideas for Enriching the Offering

· PAR cards or similar tokens can be used so that many can participate in the collection.

· During the time of collecting, play suitable music and, if the technology is available, play a slide show of images of the congregation in action in its varied ministries.

· Invite the congregation to hold the plate as it is passed and mentally place those times in the week when they lived the gospel, made a difference, or lived God’s love.

· Think of other times when one could use the collection plates, for example, using them to gather written ballots. This could help to see these actions as offerings to God rather than just church business.

· Invite people to name their joys while rendering up their gifts of tithes, time and talent.

· Consider how liturgical dance could be incorporated into the offering procession. In other words, use the gifts and talents in your faith community.

· Seasonally take up special collections such as white gifts, flowers for the sick, art such as children’s art, banners, dance, or music.

· Consider using a piece of music for an entire season so that all may learn the offertory music.

· Consider placing the choir anthem in the offering time so as the strengthen the notion that the anthem is the choir’s gift of talent.

· Consider praying an offertory prayer with a full description of what it will be used for:

baloney and cheese from Costco to feed the hungry, teachers’ salaries in Haiti, supplies for the children’s church, paying the public utilities bill, paying for the staff salaries, a small portion goes to presbytery to help fund our work together…be specific about your concerns.

Conscious choices made about how, when, what, and why of the offertory can help transform a simple cash exchange into a meaningful part of the worship service.

Easter: An Opportunity for Solidarity

Wed, 04 Apr 2018 19:54:12 GMT

For many Christians, Easter is a high holy holiday — it’s the religious bedrock that not only anchors them in their faith, but it also shapes and governs their view of the world. I’m one of them. Easter matters to me. I am of one mind with author C.S. Lewis, who once wrote:

“I believe in Christianity as I believe the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.” “Is Theology Poetry,” 1945.

That “everything else,” for me, is learning to see those at the margins of society. To opening my eyes and really seeing what is going on there – just beyond the reach of my vision.

It is at those margins where you see injustice being done. At the margins one can honestly critique the oppressive structures in society that keeps us wounded as a people, and also help heal—both for the oppressed and the oppressor.

Easter gives me the opportunity to consider Jesus. Jesus’ death forces me to consider his life on the margins of society and the events that led to his crucifixion. Each year I glean new insights. Two thousand years ago, Jesus was unquestionably a threat to the social and political status quo. Viewed as a religious threat because of his iconoclastic views and practice of Jewish law, and as a political threat to the Roman government because of his popularity among the poor and oppressed, Jesus was nailed to a cross, an attempt by those in power to eliminate him.

It would be an egregious omission to gloss over the unrelenting violence that took place during Jesus’ time, especially in light of the ongoing violence in today’s society toward people of color, women, Jews, Muslims, and lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people, to name a few.

It is sometimes said in many traditional Christian churches that “Jesus died for our sins.” Such language masks the reality that Jesus died “because of our sins”— our intolerance, our hatred, our violence. The image of Jesus as the “suffering servant” has served to ritualize suffering as redemptive. While suffering points to the need for redemption, suffering in and of itself is not redemptive. Furthermore, the belief that undeserved suffering is to be endured through faith can encourage the powerful to be insensitive to the suffering of others and forces the less powerful to be complacent to their suffering — thereby maintaining the status quo. For example, as an instrument for execution by Roman officials, Jesus’ suffering on the cross should never be seen as redemptive any more than the suffering of African-American men dangling from trees in the South were during Jim Crow America. The lynchings of African-American men were never as restitution for the sins of the Ku Klux Klan, but were, instead, because of the clan’s sins that went, for decades, unaccounted for until the 1951 Federal Anti-Lynching Act was passed. In other words, Jesus’ death on the cross and the lynching of African-American are synonymous experiences.

As a deeply controversial icon in Christian liberation theologies for many feminist, womanist, African American, Indigenous, lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender religious scholars, the cross is the locus of redemption insofar as it serves as a lens to critically examine and make the connections between the abuses of power and institutions of domination that brought about the suffering Jesus endured during his time to the abuses of power and institutions of domination that brings about the suffering which women, people of color and sexual minorities are enduring in our present day. When suffering is understood as an ongoing cycle of abuse that goes on unexamined and unaccounted for, we can then begin to see its manifestation in systems of racism, sexism, classism, heterosexism, and religion-based bigotry not only in our everyday lives but also in the world. With a new understanding about suffering and how it victimizes the innocent and aborts the Christian mission of inclusiveness, Jesus’ death at Calvary invites a different hermeneutic than its classically held one.

So, when the Christian community looks at the cross this Easter Sunday, we must see not only Jesus there, but the many other faces and bodies that are crucified along with his around the world, too. And, in so doing, we deepen our solidarity with all who suffer at the margins of society; thereby, seeing those who are in our midst.

Seed Meditation

Wed, 04 Apr 2018 19:50:28 GMT

Imagine a seed of your favourite flower, it appears dead.

Take that seed and mentally plant it in rich soil, with adequate water, and plenty of sunlight. Become aware of the natural energy of the universe, God’s creative power, the energy of growth that allows this tiny seed to burst forth.

See the roots shooting out in all directions, becoming embedded in the rich dirt around it.

The sprout is now a living thing. Watch as it gains nourishment and the millions of tiny cells divide and multiply, millions and billions of tiny intelligent beings, taking direction from the blueprint of the universe.

All these cells, being intelligent, know exactly how to acquire the things they need for growth and expression, all provided by the creator.

See the stem shoot upward, and burst from the surface of the earth, and watch it grow and divide into leaves, and tiny stems, each one holding a small bud. Now you see as one of the buds begins to become inspired and unfold into your favourite flower.

As this flower blooms, focus intently, and become aware of the fragrance of the flower wafting through the air.

Picture that flower in all its beauty. Concentrate on the mystery of its growth and uniqueness.

You are that precious bloom, created by God, your unique pattern embedded in your very cells by the Holy One.

Let go of any negativity that pulls you away from feeling that deep love. Focus instead on the love before you, around you, and in you.

As you open your eyes, rest in the knowledge of God’s deep love for you – binding your cells together, the special pattern that is you.

Seeking Desert Hearts

Tue, 03 Apr 2018 19:45:50 GMT

In the movie, Desert Hearts, set in the 1950s,

a professor goes to stay at a desert ranch near Nevada.

Vivian needs to stay six weeks in order to establish residency and obtain a divorce.

She describes her ten year relationship with her husband as a professional marriage –

right friends, right furnishings, right politics – a meeting of the minds if not the hearts.

However, at this point in her life, she had come to realize she was seeking something more,

thirsting for something which was missing from her otherwise perfect, ordered life.

For Vivian, this desert time was a time of loss and grieving.

But, while in the desert, she meets someone who changes her life.

She unexpectedly, at her most vulnerable, falls in love with a young woman

and the love that she experiences in their relationship opens her heart in a way

which it has never been opened before.

When she felt she was most alone and vulnerable, grace, God’s love,

had the room to enter her heart and change her life.

This is what this time of Lent is about – recognizing that we are dwelling in the desert,

letting go of the neat order in our lives and being open to the gentle voice of the Spirit

challenging us to live life in a new way.

One of the major hopes voiced in our recent planning meeting was a desire,

on the part of many in the congregation, to deepen our spiritual lives.

Upon hearing this, the question I asked myself was:

we have a vibrant church community here,

active in social justice pursuits and rooted in worship...

so why do members still feel this hunger, this restlessness,

this longing for more in their spirits?

What is this longing, this sense of being incomplete?

We, by our very nature, are desert dwellers and this restlessness,

this sense of being incomplete, is part of being human.

This is what the Spirit spoke to my heart through today’s readings.

David, in Psalm 63, calls out “O God, you are my God, I seek you, my soul thirsts for you...

as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.”

There is something built into each of us by our Creator, a sort of compass, if you will,

that constantly tries to point us towards home, toward God.

Most of us have seen cartoons of the person crawling across the desert floor

towards an oasis and water.

We live under the illusion that we live in the oasis, the land of water. But do we really?

Is it possible that we live in the desert?

Part of the difficulty we experience is that our North American culture, for the most part,

does not tolerate longing or unfulfilled desire.

In relation to this, I was recently reminded of the supper time struggle

in a house filled with children.

The hour before dinner is the hardest hour of the day.

It is the hour most likely to be filled with squabbles,

when tempers and tears are most close to the surface.

It is the time in which it is most difficult for parents to resist the pestering of the children

for treats – knowing that the children who have eaten cookies will not want vegetables

when they are finally prepared.

The junk food gives us a temporary sense of well-being while tricking our real appetite

into believing that it has been nourished.

Do you remember the next frame of the thirsty man in the desert cartoon?

He spots palm trees and runs toward the oasis only to find that it is a mirage.

So too can our spirits be tricked: personal wealth can spoil our appetite for community;

tax breaks can take the edge off our hunger for justice;

and investment benefits can dull our desire to limit multinationals

and preserve the environment.

And in our spiritual lives we have to guard against such trickery too.

We are faced with a bewildering barrage of books, DVDs, not to mention seminars,

workshops and retreats – all encouraging us to live more deeply

and to get more out of life.

And, while these things can be helpful,

we can get confused between the medium and the message.

They can become “cookies” for the spirit if they distract us from the true source

of our nourishment.

God alone can provide us with that which our hearts are yearning for.

There is an old Hasidic tale that says that while a child in the womb

God holds each babe close and whispers in its ear all the wonders of the universe

and how deeply it is loved.

Thus we each learn of our deep and sacred connection to God.

However, in the struggle to come into this world, in the struggle to survive,

this knowledge gets buried deep within the recesses of our hearts

and we spend our entire lives trying to remember it.

This is what we long for, this is what our restlessness desires.

Perhaps this is what the psalmist was referring to when he said

“I looked upon you in your sanctuary – beholding your power and glory...

your love is better than life...my soul is satisfied...my soul clings to you...”

In Lent, for five weeks, we focus on the conversion of our hearts in preparation for Easter.

Now, this is not the dramatic conversion of Paul,

not that I’m criticizing those aha moments which knock some of us

out of our everyday lives.

By conversion, I am speaking of a continual attitude of turning back to God.

We are called to experience and be transformed by God’s unconditional grace.

A grace that should be clear to others in the daily happenings of our lives!

I’m not saying that involvement in social justice, or the other good works we do,

isn’t good for the spirit.

And I’m not suggesting that we maintain our relationship to God

by virtue of our own achievements.

However, like the fig tree in today’s gospel we are called to produce fruit.

To show by our lives and our deeds from whom it is we receive our nurturance.

God is gracious and gives us the room to grow and food we need to again and again,

turn our faces to the warmth of the sun.

And, in response, like the fig tree, we are expected to produce.

We are challenged to be gardeners for our interior fig trees,

nurturing and watering our own spirits...

as well as the spirits of those in community with us.

In Lent, we focus on the conversion of our hearts towards God,

we say that when we turn to God we practice repentance.

Well, just what is penance anyway?

I grew up as a Roman Catholic and I remember the definition

drilled into our heads during catechism.

Conversion comes from the Greek metanoia – and means turning back to God.

And penance was the means by which you showed God

you were serious about the change in your life.

As you and I have committed to being companions on our spiritual journeys,

I decided to share a little about my soul’s path, my hunger for the Holy One.

I remember as a young girl wanting to be closer to God.

Life could be a bit rocky in our home and I felt a driving need to

“dwell in God’s house for all my days.”

And as a sign that I was serious about this desire,

I would pledge to God to be the very best Catholic I could be –

and for a while I would go to church every day, I’d pray, I’d fast,

I’d be helpful to my mother and siblings, I’d study hard...

but somehow I always felt that I hadn’t given enough.

Somehow I was always left with this thirst I was unable to fulfill.

I lived on this roller coaster of faith, always trying, giving up, trying again for years.

But over time, the urgency of the desire waned,

until by the time I was working as a Pastoral Associate in a Catholic parish,

I was simply a professional Christian.

I had lost that desire for new life, for closeness with my Creator.

It was only in turning to my theological studies,

in order to be a better Pastoral Associate,

that again that desire was rekindled within me.

At that time, it was the challenge of feminism and liberation theology,

that shook me out of my little oasis and reminded me that I was dwelling in the desert,

that I was still longing for something more.

As a result, I spent a few years discerning my baptismal call,

or as we called it my vocation, with a group of Franciscan Sisters.

It was late one night alone in the convent chapel that I experienced God again

in a profound way.

I was stunned and moved by the depth of connection.

In that dark, still room with only the tabernacle light,

symbol of Christ’s presence, burning brightly,

I was flooded by a sense of God’s closeness.

This experience pushed me to action...not because it was the thing to do,

but because I could not contain the joy I felt in that moment of connection with God...

that one moment in the temple healing every day alone.

Like Vivian, in the movie Desert Hearts, I moved to my personal desert.

I moved to Toronto to continue my theological studies at the graduate level.

And, while I loved many parts of my education,

it was here that I almost forgot my connection with the Creator.

I made the mistake that many theological students have made –

I equated my faith with my study.

I became lost in the maze of academic theology...

my faith became something to dissect, to understand.

But again, God’s grace satisfied my thirst.

It was here in Toronto’s desert that I met Ruth and fell in love.

This was a conversion moment for me –

the knowledge that someone could love me this deeply,

could care for my well-being this fully was a miracle –

for if Ruth could love me this deeply, then how much more could God,

in whom all love resides, love me too.

Like Vivian, in Desert Hearts, I had found new life in an unexpected way.

And, because of that love, I was called to change my life,

to re-embrace my faith once again.

We all have been gifted by presence of the Spirit,

and we are called to celebrate this grace in our lives.

We are called to constantly turn to God and to be transformed by the grace we receive.

Now each of us has a busy life...full of responsibilities, things to do...

how can we have desert hearts in the midst of the urban jungle?

Well, having a desert heart is living with the hunger

of desiring an ever deeper connection to God

and Lent is a great time to practice this attitude of the heart.

Before we can celebrate the joy of Easter dawn we have to learn to dwell in the desert.

Lent is a time in which we are encouraged to spend time reflecting on

what it is that distracts from our relationship with God

and to offer penance for our failures to love.

It is an opportunity to rededicate our hearts, and hands, to God.

We need to find places in which to carve out small moments to reconnect with God,

the Source of our being, the Source of Love.

So where do we find these precious moments?

Personally, I find the drive to the church is a good time to reflect –

the shower is another five minutes where my attention is free;

so too is my time walking my dog, Okwaho.

It doesn’t need to be time in a quiet room with a bible and a lit candle...

connect with God in what is available through your life.

This is a time when belonging to a community can be helpful.

We can be companions on the desert journey sharing the ways in which

we have created this sacred space in our lives.

And what about this penance anyway?

How do we practice the discipline of penance in Lent?

Penance is not rooted in an action, it is an attitude that we practice...

an attitude of interior, ongoing conversion.

It is recognizing in our daily lives that thirsting for God.

And it is living in a way that empowers others we meet in our daily lives

to desire to come to the waters and slake their thirst as well.

I challenge you, for the remaining days of our Lenten journey, to take a few minutes,

whatever you have available, to reflect on your relationship with our Creator.

What distracts you from hearing God’s call?

Children, work, relationships, commitments?

How do these very same things nurture you?

How can you hear God’s call within them?

How do you respond to these challenges?

Are you like the owner of the vineyard who wants to cut down the fig tree?

To rid yourself of that which takes a toll upon your resources?

Or will you be like the gardener who nurtures the fig tree by digging around its roots,

giving it space, watering it?

Can you be the gardener for your spirit?

This is the both the joy and challenge of living with a desert heart.

Why Children Need to Go to Church on Christmas Eve - And Why The Rest of Us Should Go Too!

Thu, 07 Dec 2017 19:40:32 GMT

In most families Christmas Eve is a busy, chaotic time. It is not easy to get a family that includes overly-excited children to church. But, it is worth the time and energy. Children - and their parents - actually need it. The church helps when it articulates for parents clear reasons to make the effort. Here is my starter list of reasons.

To hear the story read or told in an important way on the "night it happened." Children like hearing the story of their birth on their birthday and celebrating other big events on "the very day it happened." So, the story which may have been acted out in a pageant and discussed in Sunday school and read at home, feels more "real" when read on Christmas Eve in the sanctuary.

To go to church at night - These days children at church are most often during the day. To go at night to a decorated, even candle-lit church is almost magical. When the family makes this an important part of Christmas - even in the middle of chaos - just being there reminds children what is most important about Christmas.

To be with a crowd telling the story - Joining church friends in a packed sanctuary reminds children that this story is something bigger than just their family traditions. They are part of a huge family of families who celebrate Jesus' birth.

To sing the carols at least one more time - not many families sing together at home and not many children's groups sing religious carols any more. That means we need to be intentional about singing the carols with the children. And, who would want to miss singing "Silent Night" in the Christmas Eve sanctuary while hugging your child.

To create a context in which to discover the truth about Santa - If Santa is all there is to Christmas Eve once children learn "the truth", Christmas is just a greedy gift grab. But if Christmas Eve has always circled around the story of Jesus told in the sanctuary, the truth about Santa can be fit into that context and the Christmas celebration gets richer.

To create memories - Worshipping on Christmas Eve as a family creates, over the years, a treasure trove of memories. Some of them shine with wonder. Others make for eye-rolling stories that are retold every Christmas. These memories are precious for both the children as they mature and the parents as they age.

What would you add?

Migration

Wed, 11 Oct 2017 19:34:04 GMT

Migration is a constant in today's world. Millions of people are on the move today as refugees, immigrants, and asylum seekers.* While there have always been restless souls, most people move to seek a better or safer life. The instability in many countries caused by war, environmental disasters, and politics has caused a tsunami of migration. In Micah 4:1-5, Micah reminds us that wars will end, swords will be beaten into plough shares, spears will be made into pruning hooks, and in completing that famous passage, people will be safe in their own homes. Can you imagine the change that living out this Scripture would bring about?

* International Organization for Migration, "World Migration Report 2015, http://publications.iom.int/system/files/wmr2015_en.pdf, 26.

Rethinking Canadian Culture

Sun, 02 Jul 2017 19:29:38 GMT

Canada Day, which the country observed yesterday, raises all sorts of troubling questions, some of them quite divisive. The most obvious and widely discussed are the questions of how basing the national day on the decision of British settlers to form a new country can be respectful and inclusive of the indigenous people who had already lived here for millennia, and of the significant percentage of the present population who have arrived since then from various other parts of the world.

The very choice of date seems to overtly privilege one set of stories over all others. And of course, because cultures are built from the dominant stories, this choice seems to prioritize the advancement of one culture over all others. I want to run with a question about culture today, but it is a bit of a spin off from the usual culture questions that are raised by Canada Day. I want to ask whether the basic message that Jesus preached in fact raises some even more fundamental challenges to the ways culture is celebrated.

In today’s gospel reading, we heard Mark’s account of the beginning of Jesus’s preaching ministry. Mark gives us a summary of the main thrust of Jesus’s preaching: “The time has come, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”

So, to the disappointment of many modern Christians, the guts of Jesus’s message was not a sacrificial death on the cross, nor the experience of being born again, nor the need to be saved from an eternity in hell, nor the doctrine of the Trinity, but the emergence in the here and now, in the midst of this world, of the kingdom of God.

“Great news! The time has come, and the kingdom of God is within reach, so turn your life around and get on board.”

Now the first and biggest question that that raises for us is “what does it mean?” What is this kingdom of God, and how does its arrival affect us? The trouble is, the idea of kingdoms is not one we use so much now. Even most countries that have monarchies are not technically kingdoms now. I think Saudi Arabia is, but strangely, the United Kingdom isn’t, in that the reigning monarch is not the real centre of power.

But in Jesus’s day, the people were entirely familiar with announcements like this one. It was not at all unusual for people to hear announcements that went something like “Good News! The kingdom of Rome has arrived and is now in charge here. You will now have peace and prosperity, guaranteed by Rome.” Now of course, whether you hear that as genuine good news, or as toxic propaganda depends a lot on your perspective on the way things were before and on the relative merits of the new pretender. After all, the announcement in 1867 in Canada was not all that different. “Good news! The United Kingdom has arrived and taken charge of this land. That’s got to be good doesn’t it?!”
Well it turned out to be anything but good for most of the existing population.

So is what Jesus saying just a variation on this? Is he just saying “You’ve got a new boss. God is now in charge.”
Well, to some extent that is what he is saying, and the fact that he used such familiar political language can hardly be an accident. You can see why the kingdom of Rome saw Jesus and his followers as a threat. If they are telling everybody that Rome is now in charge, and someone bobs up saying, “Actually, we’ve got a different view on who’s in charge,” it’s probably not going to end in a nice cooperative power-sharing arrangement. More likely blood and tears. But when Jesus uses the language of kingdoms in that age, the political implications were clearly intentional.

But what are we to make of it now? Kingdoms are not really part of our political thinking. Is Jesus just saying that God is in charge now?

Well, strangely, those who most often say that that idea is pretty much all that it means tend to be the same people who have the most privatized understanding of what God’s rule means. Often, they are those who have stripped almost all of the political implications from Jesus’s message, other than continuing to argue that
the state should legislate in favour of their view of things like marriage, abortion, tax concessions, and the right to discriminate.

A lot of preachers, including me, have felt that we need to find a new word to translate the idea of the kingdom, because it is a rather out of date term that no longer easily communicates what it once did. Some people have gone for words like reign of God or realm of God, but while they might get away from the masculine imagery of kings, they are not words that add any helpful sense of meaning for us. So what might help? What is this kingdom and how might we best describe it?

The truth is that to fully answer that question, we would need an extended excursion through the Hebrew scriptures. The kingdom was something every Israelite was expecting and yearning for, so when Jesus says, “The time is now, the kingdom is at hand,” he is assuming that his words will resonate with a whole bunch of well-known images and expectations.

So to properly defend what I am about to say about the kingdom, I would have to take you through lots of scripture and history, but this is not a biblical history class, or indeed a class of any sort, so I am going to cut to the chase and leave all the background for another time.

It is my view that the most helpful way for us to think about the meaning of the kingdom of God or the kingdom of heaven now is to think of it as the culture of God, or the culture of heaven.

“Great news! The time has come, and the culture of God is emerging, so turn your life around and get on board.”

That might, at first glance, seem less political and less about who is in charge, but stop and think about the ways we talk about culture now. We often use the phrase “cultural imperialism” which brings together the ideas of culture and empire or kingdom. And we talk about dominant cultures, and about cultural assimilation, and about cultural appropriation, and even culture wars. These ideas are very much about the power that cultures wield,
and the powerful influence they have over people’s lives. And more importantly, culture is very much about the way people behave and relate to each other, and who they identify with and what they regard as important.
In many places, and especially here in Canada, people tend to feel a much stronger sense of allegiance to their culture than they do to the political structures or symbols of the state. You could stand up at a Canada Day celebration and loudly declare that our flag is a hideous rag that should be replaced, and you’d probably get away with it. You wouldn’t dare do that in the USA. And you could stand up and say that the Prime Minister is a goof,
and that the constitution is a joke, and most of the crowd would applaud you. But if you stood up and yelled out that Canadian culture is laughable, you could find yourself in a whole lot of trouble. You see, the culture is us.
Culture is who we are and how we do things, and what we value and stand for. If you criticize the home culture, you are attacking home sweet home, and you can expect a fierce resistance.

Now when we hear Jesus saying, “The culture of God is at hand, get on board”, most people don’t immediately hear that as the kind of threat that the Roman empire thought it was. Why? Because most of us feel so comfortable and positive about our culture, that we imagine that the culture of heaven is a lot like our culture, only more so. We think the culture of God is built on the values that we hold dear, but that the disruptive problem people will have been removed. It will be our culture, but completely harmonious. We Canadians are probably especially prone to this thinking because we are so proud of our multiculturalism, so we think we have already assimilated the best of all the world’s cultures and fulfilled the biblical image of gathering all nations into one family.

The existence of immigration detention centers gives the lie to our delusion, but we keep them hidden from sight and enjoy our delusion.

You can see this tendency to think of our culture as reflecting the culture of God at its most obvious in the way many churches have become wedded to the traditional family values cause. The whole point of the traditional family values campaign is the assumption that the way we have traditionally done things is self-evidently right
and therefore, completely congruent with the kingdom of God. But you don’t have to look too much further than today’s readings to see the nonsense of this. The traditional family values of Jesus’s day said that young men
went into the family business and supported their parents, but today we heard Jesus calling a bunch of young men to abandon their family businesses and leave their parents to follow Jesus. And in the reading from Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, we hear the Apostle suggesting that the changes we are going through
are so major that we might give up on all sorts of cherished cultural practices, including marriage and conventional patterns of private property. Why? Because “the present form of this world is passing away.”
He is effectively saying that traditional values and traditional cultural practices and institutions, even including marriage, are of questionable value in light of the massive cultural change that is the emerging kingdom of God.

Now I have already used up too much of my time, and I’m not going to be able to go into much detail about how the culture of Godmight look significantly different to Canadian culture or any other culture, and why it might indeed lead to something of a culture clash with the cultures we have been reared in. But it would be a bit gutless if I sidestepped that completely, so, let me just focus on one obvious area of difference, and it is perhaps the area that most immediately provokes angst and hostility.

The culture of God is so radically inclusive that it does not and will not recognize the legitimacy of any favoring of the interests of one group over those of another group. Jesus nearly got himself lynched after his first recorded sermon in the Capernaum synagogue because the guts of his message was that God being not on the side of Israel and against Israel’s enemies, because God does not take sides with anyone. Millions of Americans put bumper stickers on their cars saying, “God bless America.” But if you put a bumper sticker on your car that says “God bless every nation, no exceptions”, it is hugely controversial and attracts a lot of hostility.

Canadians are less openly religious, but can be just as fiercely nationalistic. It is not uncommon to see bumper stickers that say things like “Support Canadian jobs, buy Canadian,” or “Canada, if you don’t love it, leave.” Perhaps we can see what is wrong with those slogans if we try to reframe them according to different values. What about, “Support jobs in poor countries, buy cheap imports”? Or “Canada, if you don’t love it, help us make it better”? Now I understand there are good environmental reasons for buying locally produced goods to avoid the massive fuel burningof transporting goods around the globe, but that’s not what the bumper sticker was arguing, was it?
It was appealing to our instinct to favour the interests of “us” over the interests of “them”. Why are Canadian jobs more important than jobs in other parts of the world? The kingdom of God breaks down all such divisions of us and them. The only time Jesus ever expresses a preference for serving the interests of his own people over outsiders, he is gently corrected and he repents on the spot (Matthew 15:21-28).

So, here’s the thing to try to do if you are listening to any of the rhetoric of the national 150 celebrations.
Try to decode the rhetoric and critique it in light of the values of the emerging culture of God. Much of the rhetoric will work with an implicit “us” and “them” understanding. I say implicit, because it usually won’t mention “them” at all, but whenever it is saying “we Canadians are this or that” or “Canadian culture promotes this or that”, the implication is that this is true, as opposed to “them”, those people in other cultures who are not like “us”. So, ask yourself whether it is true. When the rhetoric declares that “Canadians are uniquely generous and ready to pitch in and help in the face of great adversities like forest fires and floods”, ask yourself whether it is really true that the rest of the world is really less generous when facing adversity or tragedy?

And then ask whether Canadians push their government to prove this generosity in our overseas aid budget.
The only “us” and “them” identification that reflects the culture of God is “us given and giving for the sake of them.”

And then the big question to ask ourselves is which culture we really identify ourselves with. Which culture do we celebrate and invite to shape our hearts, our minds, our values, our lifestyles, and our relationships with those around us and far away from us. Is it primarily the culture of Canada, or of a sub-group within Canada,or the culture of a country we were raised in, or is it now the emerging culture of God?The flag waving festivities can perhaps help us to see more clearly the nature of the question. Where does our identity lie, and where do we want it to lie? Have we really begun to respond to the call of Jesus: “Great news! The time has come, and the culture of God is emerging, so turn your life around, leave your old allegiances behind, and get on board.”

If you are wanting to respond to that call, then take note that what we are about to do here must trump any of the flag waving and back slapping that goes on. What we are about to do at this table is the central celebration
of the emerging culture of God. It is a celebration whose central symbol is not one of triumphalism and superiority, but of brokenness, of Jesus given for us, and us given for the life of all the world. The culture of God has come near. It is time to let it trump all our other allegiances, turn our lives around, and get on board. For the sake of all the world. Amen.

Go Make Disciples of All Nations?

Mon, 19 Jun 2017 19:23:24 GMT

Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” - Matthew 28:16-20

"Go therefore and make disciples of all nations." There are probably fewer words in the Scriptures that have had a more profound effect on our common history as the men and women of the Christian faith in that simple phrase: "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations."

Those few words set in motion the entire missionary movement of Christianity through the centuries. It was on that basis, that understanding, that we had been commanded by Christ to go into the world and share our witness with other men and women of different cultures, different traditions and faiths, and in doing so, win them over, convert them to the Christian faith. This created the historic missionary movement that has touched every continent and every culture on earth.

As a disciple of Christ, as a Christian, I am an heir to that tradition, just as you are. And if I look over my shoulder historically at all that the missionary movement of Christianity has meant, I have a very mixed reaction. There are moments when I can see truly noble and wonderful acts of selfless dedication to the Gospel, which missionaries had lived out in their lives throughout history, doing wonderful things in the name of Christ, leading people in the Jesus Way. But I also must be honest in saying that when I look over my shoulder, I see a littered memory of hurt, of pain, of loss and suffering, all in the name of Jesus, all because we are a missionary church.

Now why would I say that? I say it because I'm not only a disciple of Christ Jesus; I'm also an aboriginal Canadian. I have within my memory a different story, the story of a people who found the Christian faith brought to them, not just as good news but also as a source of enormous suffering and dislocation. The Gospel of Christ was not just a question of being given something hopeful and wonderful and bright, but something that at its very core seemed to subvert and destroy the cultures that had been their genius and their pride for centuries.

As an indigenous Christian, I cannot escape the legacy of the missionary movement in North America, nor would I say can any other indigenous person from Africa or Latin America or Asia escape the fact, the truth, that the missionary expansion of Christianity was often not just a question of the message but of the medium. That old idea that somehow the medium is the message, the message is the medium, is something we need as Christians to take very seriously.

Let me explain what I mean. Stop and think. The message was good news. The message was hope and light and love. But the medium that brought that message around the world through the missionary activity of our churches was often the medium of colonization. Christianity was a part, not just of trying to convert people into a different faith, but of an effort to convert them into a different culture, the western European culture, a culture that told them not just how to pray and how to worship but also how to dress, how to act, and how to think.

The memory that I have within my own historical tradition is one that is fraught with all the terrible stories of what missionary activity has done to my people, meaning that at the end of the day, after the great colonization and expansion in North America, those who were left to be baptized in the name of Jesus were simply the survivors of a terrible act of extermination and oppression.

So, what does that mean to us today as Christians? How do I deal with that as am aboriginal Christian? Do I join those who say, "Well, because there was this terrible history, this tragic legacy from missionary activity in the Christian faith, we need to just stop doing that? We need to realize that we are oppressors and imperialists if we try to share the Gospel with other people. Therefore, we should respect all other cultures and religious traditions to such a degree that we do not impose any of our message on them."

That's a very popular idea these days, you know; there are those who would back away from any hint of a missionary activity because they are embarrassed and ashamed of what it has done in the past.

And, of course, on the other side, there are many Christians for whom that would be anathema, who move forward in an aggressive way to bring what they think is good news to the world-even if it means bringing it to other Christian communities. Have you noticed what's happening in the former Communist-bloc countries in eastern Europe, for example? Or even in the former Soviet Union and Russia, where Christian denominations are entering communities that have been Christian for 2,000 years but are now competing with one another, fighting with one another, all in the name of missionary truth.

The question on this Trinity Sunday, when we stand at the moment of understanding the great mystery of our faith in the triune God, I think we have to once again confront the question of our attitude about whether we believe Christianity should continue to be a missionary church. Do we have to go to one extreme or the other? Do we have to deny any missionary activity on our part, or do we have to just simply bow our necks and go forward, forgetting, forgetting, all that has happened before?

Now, my message today is very simple: No, we don't have to be extremists when it comes to being missionaries. All we have to do is remember those words that set all of that in motion. And remember all those words -- not just "Go, therefore and make disciples of all nations" -- but what comes immediately before it in that 18th verse, where Jesus says, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me."

Before Jesus sent us out, he reminded us of that, that singular, critical fact – "All authority has been given to me," he said. Not to you. The great mistake of our missionary activity is forgetting that the authority lies with Jesus and that our role in being proclaimers of his good news is exactly what he said to us about baptizing others into his name.

This simply means welcoming them to make the same discovery that you and I have made in our faith journey, the discovery of the God of light and of goodness, of mercy and of compassion, of justice and of reconciliation – and not imposing our own cultural values or our own cultural traditions in the process. It is allowing others to make that discovery freely and joyfully. Authority has been given to Christ.

The mission to go forth and share good news has been given to us. And if we never confuse the two, being a missionary church will mean being a church of grace and of peace and of hope. Let us pray together that it shall always be so.

O God of all history, as we look back and see what we have done in our zeal and in our desire to share your witness with others, we regret wholeheartedly the many times that we have failed to carry out your Gospel of love by imposing our will on others, by assuming the authority that is truly yours alone. But we ask you so to inspire us with your Holy Spirit that we never lose the desire to share faithfully and fully the witness all you have meant to us as you have changed our lives through your love and your compassion. Let us be the ambassadors of your good news in all that we do, in every way that we live our lives to the glory of your name and to the comfort of your people. For it is in that name, the name of authority Jesus of Nazareth, that we pray. Amen.

Who Has Seen the Wind?

Sun, 04 Jun 2017 19:17:46 GMT

From Christina Rossetti, a Christian poet.

“Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you?
But when the leaves hang trembling,
the wind is passing through.
Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I.
But when the leaves bow down their heads,
the Wind is passing by.”

From the Apostle John, “The wind blows where it will and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So, it is with ever person who is born of the Spirit.

One word: Spirit. The focus of the sermon is one word which can be translated wind, spirit or breath. In Hebrew, it is the word, “ruach.”
In Greek, it is the word, “pneumatos.” In English, it is the word “wind”
which can be also translated “spirit” or “breath.”

Your body is filled with air. Today, to get into the spirit of the sermon,
you need to cup your hands above your mouth and blow and feel the warm air in your hands. Some people say that folks are filled with “hot air,” as is evidenced by the warm air in the cup of your hand.
To blow out warm air is a sign that you are alive.

You can’t be alive without air. Our sanctuary is filled with air.
Invisible but really present among us. You see clusters of balloons.
These balloons are filled with air. The balloons are signs that today
is the birthday of the church, but the waving balloons symbolize the fact that this room is full of currents of invisible air.

Our atmosphere is filled with air. Within the universe, the planet Earth is one of the most unique pieces of matter in our ever-expanding universe. We do not know of life any other place in the universe
that has life except the planet Earth There is a membrane around the Earth and that membrane is called the atmosphere. It is eleven miles high. Our atmosphere is most dense here on the crust of this Earth
and becomes thinner and thinner as you reach the upper reaches of the atmosphere. There would be no life on this planet Earth
without our atmosphere of air. There is nothing on this earth more powerful than the winds of the atmosphere.

Our human bodies are filled with air, and we know what happens
when a person chokes and cannot get air. They die. And so many people have learned mouth to mouth resuscitation. We learn our ABCs. A is airwave that needs to be cleared of an obstruction.
B is breathing mouth to mouth to blow air into another person’s body.
C is circulate the blood by chest compression. D is for don’t panic.
People trained to learn the ABCs of life saving.

Children are fascinated with air. Years ago, my little niece was fascinated with air. She asked such questions as: “TT, what’s the wind? Where does it come from? Where does it go? Why are some days windy and other days not?” Being unable to answer these childlike questions I sought a friend, Rick, who is a meteorologist,
and I asked him what he knew about the wind. He was most obliging. He told me that wind is air; that air is simply composed of nitrogen, oxygen and other gases; and wind is simply the movement of air.
"Wind is air on the move," he said. Keep track of that phrase.
We shall come back to it later: "Wind is air on the move."

What causes the air to move? Changes in heat When you have changes of heat, you have changes in the flow of molecules that results in movement. The earth is constantly rotating towards and away from the sun, therefore, there are constant temperature changes on the face of the earth and therefore there are wind currents, streams of wind circling the face of the earth.

"Do you want to know about tornadoes," Rick asked. Tornadoes are caused when cold air masses come down from the north undercut a warm air mass from the south and pushing the air upward and cooling the air rapidly. Rick was very helpful and obliging in answering the questions that my little niece was asking.

Our playtime is filled with air. Wind is great for flying kites or sailing on the Bay or parasailing or windsurfing. Wind causes problems for golfers who slice and hook; it hardens the snow for snowmobilers;
and it makes it difficult for fishermen to cross the bay or makes them seasick when the wind is blowing too strongly. Scientists tell us that air is composed of 78% nitrogen, 21% oxygen, 1% argon, and .03 of a percent of carbon dioxide. And this smallest fraction of carbon dioxide is growing due to people burning sulfurs by which the human race may destroy our atmosphere of air that gives life.

“Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you?
But when the leaves hang trembling,
the wind is passing through.
Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I.
But when the leaves bow down their heads,
the Wind is passing by.”

The Jews, when they thought of God, they thought of ...the wind.
They thought of the wind because the wind was like God: it was invisible, mysterious and powerful. You can’t control the wind.
You can’t have life without wind. Wind gives life. And so was God: invisible, mysterious, powerful, whom you can’t control and gives life.

The ancient Jews of the Old and New Testaments didn’t know
that wind was composed of oxygen and nitrogen. They didn’t know that it was the result of changes in temperature. To them, the wind was ... sheer mystery. They actually called God, “the Wind.” The Old Testament name for God is “ruach,” ruach, r...u...a...c...h... pronounced ruach, which means wind. So, the first name of God in the Old Testament is Wind. Let’s take a moment and look at the word, “wind,” in the Biblical narrative.

In Genesis 1, at the very beginning. “In the beginning, there was the earth, and the earth was without form and void, and the Spirit of God,
the Wind of God, the Breath of God breeeeathed across the face of the waters.” It was like God gave mouth to mouth resuscitation
to the Earth and blew life into our planet.

In Genesis 2, we hear the story about God creating man out of the dust of the earth. And then the Spirit of God breeeeeathed into man,
the breath, the wind, the ruach of life.”

The Jew called God, the Wind for the wind was mysterious,
powerful and invisible. The Jews couldn’t see God, but they could see the effects of God, just as we see the effects of the tornado.
The Jews looked around them, and they saw the sun, the moon, the stars, the earth. They saw the autographs, the signatures, the footprints of God, and they had the feeling that there was a powerful, invisible, gaseous force moving across the face of the waters.

We come to the Book of Exodus. In Exodus and the story of Moses,
the Jews would not allow any images to be made of God. Besides, how do you make an image of the wind? How do you paint that which is invisible? How do you make carvings of that which can’t be seen? Moses had received the Ten Commandments from God.
The second commandment was not to make any graven images of God. How do you make any images or pictures of that which is invisible?

In their Holy of Holies, there were no relics; there were no images of Jesus or crosses or anything like that. Simply, in the Holy of Holies, was the mighty cherubim, that massive carving of a bird-animal with wings. This wooden carving was overlaid with gold. It had a wind span of seven feet. God was not in the gold overlay carving of the cherubim; but God was in the...air...between the cherubim’s wings.
The Jew’s most sacred object of their worship was invisible;
it was mysterious like the wind.

In our study of the Bible, we come to the prophet Moses who was
filled with the Spirit of God, and then the prophet Samuel. And then King David. Remember that bible verse: “The Spirit of the Lord was upon David and was with him from that day on.” We could cross out the name, David, and write in our own name. “The Spirit of the Lord was upon X and was with her from that day on.” The Spirit of God is with us wherever we go, as is the wind.

From King David, Psalm 139, “Where could I go to escape from your Spirit? Where could I go to get away from your Presence. If I went up to heaven, you would be there. If I went down to the land of the dead, you would be there. If I went to the farthest place in the East or the farthest place in the West, you would be there to help me. You would be there to guide me."

And that is also true today. Where can you go to escape the wind? No where. God is forever with you, no matter when you go. Such it is with the atmosphere of air.

And then in our survey of the Old Testament, we come to Joel 2:28, where God says, “I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters shall prophesy. Your young men will see visions
and your old men will see dreams. Your men and women servants will all be filled with the Spirit and they shall prophecy.” EVERYONE will be filled with that invisible Spirit, not just the prophetic giants of the earth and a few of the kings.

There was silence for about four hundred years.And then we come to the Book of Acts, chapter 2, and we hear the story of Pentecost for today. “Suddenly, a sound came from heaven like the rush of a mighty wind and it filled the house where they were sitting. And they were ALL filled with the Holy Spirit, the Holy Wind, and they ALL began to prophesy, to speak boldly about Jesus Christ in numerous languages.

“Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you?
But when the leaves hang trembling,
the wind is passing through.
Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I.
But when the leaves bow down their heads,
the Wind is passing by.”

What does all this have to do with you and me, with your life and mine? We all know, you cannot have life without air, without wind.
The first purpose of the Spirit is to make God alive in you and me.
You and I come to believe and know that there is a God here
in this universe. Invisible, mysterious, powerful, whom you can’t control any more than you can control the wind. This God, this Wind, gives life. Physical life. Spiritual life. The best human analogy there is for both the ancient and modern world is that God is like the wind, invisible, mysterious and powerful and give life.

This God is all around you, in you, above you, below you, beside you, invisibly present. I sense that some of you who are here today are essentially materialists, warmed over Marxists, who only believe
in the material world that you can see, touch and feel. If you can’t see it, touch it, feel it, and prove it, it must not exist. Some of you today may be materialistic philosophers who believe that when you die, that is all there is. You don’t believe or grasp the Invisible, Mysterious,
Power of God around us, above us, below us, and in us.

God is present with us, whether we feel him or not. When we are thinking of him or not. When we are good or bad, rich or poor,
indifferent or concerned. When we are working, golfing, singing, sailing, hiking, dying or living, God is here...which is a statement of grace. For God is mysteriously near you, not because you are good,
not because you are kind, and not because you are religious..for indeed, none of us are any of those qualities. But God is graciously present in your life because...God is God.

The purpose of the Spirit is to make God’s Spirit alive in us. A second purpose of the Spirit is to make Jesus alive in us. To make the love of Christ alive in us. I remember teaching confirmation and one of the lessons asks: "What is the purpose of the Holy Spirit?" To make Jesus Christ alive in us. I would say that to the kids. And then I would say, to make Jesus Christ ALIVE in us, and I would shout the word, ALIVE, at the top of my lungs, as I do right now. The kids would all jump in their seats and I would laugh and they would laugh. But from that class, I always remember what the Holy Spirit does: to make Jesus Christ ALIVE in us. His love alive in us. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self control, all these virtues alive in us.

The most powerful force in the world is powerful like the presence of our atmosphere of air. The most powerful force in the world is the love of Christ. The purpose of the Spirit is to energize the love of Christ within us.

The Spirit makes the teachings and words of Jesus alive in us. His words about forgiveness, eternal life, eternal love, that God is our loving Father. The Spirit makes the words and teachings of Jesus
to become living realities in our lives.

I remember, when I was just starting out in ministry, presiding at a funeral for Lola Hesjedal, who was one of the finest Christians I have ever met. The numerous speakers at that service extolled the living virtues of Lola. A person could have walked away from that funeral
with a spiritual inferiority complex, that Lola was more full of God's spirit that the rest of us mere mortals. That is just not true. God fills every believer with the Holy Spirit and each in a different way. Young and old. Rich and poor. Men and women. Slave and free. God fills each one of us with his Spirit in a unique way. ALL people are filled with the Spirit, not just the religious big shots of the Old Testament nor the religious heroes of the New Testament and spiritual superstars of our day. All people, including you and me in our ordinariness, are filled with the Spirit of Christ.

The third purpose of the Holy Spirit is to make the church alive. The Spirit of God gets into church. The Spirit of God blows us off the front porch, blows us out of our pews, blows us out of our institutions and safe communities and into the world.

My meteorologist friend said that "wind is air on the move." When the air is heated up, it becomes wind. That is what the church is. We are on the move. The church is air on the move. Moving out of our pews.
Moving out of our church buildings. Moving out of the safety of our friendships in church. Moving out into the world around us. Moving into our schools, neighborhoods, places of work. We are air on the move.

Why is the ruach here in this room today, filling this sanctuary? Why are the winds of God blowing around your life, filling you and making you strong? Is it to make you feel good? Yes. ... Is it to heal your wounds when you are hurt? ... Yes. Is it to give you comfort when your husband dies? Yes. ... Is it to give your life meaning when your life has totally fallen apart? Yes. ... Is it to forgive you when your life is lived in a way contrary to the will of God? Yes. ...

But more than that, the Spirit of Jesus Christ that surrounds you,
is in you and around you, is given to you that you may have power.
The Spirit is given to you so that you would have power to proclaim the message of Jesus Christ to all peoples. For in Pentecost, the Church was given the power, the power that is greater than tornadoes, the power of the ruach, the power to proclaim with authority the message of Jesus Christ. YOU … not the person next to you, YOU have been given that power, for YOU are a Spirit-filled person, and so am I.

Wind. One word. Wind.

“Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you?
But when the leaves hang trembling,
the wind is passing through.
Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I.
But when the leaves bow down their heads,
the Wind is passing by.”

Wistfully Dreaming of Camelot

Mon, 22 May 2017 15:14:06 GMT

In the last scene of the musical, King Arthur spins out a song filled with memories of what had been the most idyllic place on earth. Alone on stage, the broken, forgiving king begs us to remember:

Ask ev'ry person if they've heard the story,
And tell it strong and clear if they have not,
That once there was a fleeting wisp of glory
Called Camelot!

Don't let it be forgot that once there was a spot
For one brief, shining moment
That was known as Camelot.

Keep the story going begs King Arthur. Pass it on to your children and your children's children; and in the very remembering, you will keep the dream alive. In the midst of the despair around you, recall this time, this special place. And, perhaps-who knows-perhaps this one brief, shining moment will come again.

We're tempted to hear Jesus singing Arthur's song as he gathers with his disciples for the last time. Jesus knew he would soon be betrayed by one of his closest followers – betrayed, arrested, and finally killed. Here at the Passover table, Jesus spins out his last words to his closest friends. We can well imagine Jesus calling them to remember the wondrous wisp of glory they had shared, when light had come into the darkness of the world. With such a song the disciples could go on, sustained by the memory of this one great life, waiting and hoping Jesus would soon return.

The whole Gospel of John could be a Camelot song, for John wrote these words long after Jesus was gone. This gospel is written backwards, in the midst of a community for whom Jesus was only a memory. Most of those in John's community had never met Jesus. Most, if not all, the disciples were dead. The temple in Jerusalem had been destroyed – a sign for many that the end-time would soon come. But the end-time didn't come.

Life went on and that was, in many ways, the hardest part of all. Jesus hadn't returned even when all the signs seemed right. This community of believers felt pushed to the very edge of despair, and despair could defeat them. The gospel writer knew the dangers of such despair. So it was that John pulled together many of the things Jesus said into this one section of the Gospel known as "The Farewell Discourses." It's a bit like The Last Lecture Series in some colleges, where professors are asked what they would say if they knew it was their last chance to speak. Here at the table, Jesus says the same things over and over in different ways. The central word is love.

" If you love me you will keep my commandments.

" A new commandment I give you, that you love one another as I have loved you.

" Whoever does not love me does not keep my words.

" I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.

"But how can we do that?" the disciples must have wondered. Knowing they had a hard time loving each even while Jesus was with them, how could believers love like that in John's community where memory was fading? Let's just keep singing about that time when Jesus was here.

"Don't let it be forgot that once there was a spot for one brief shining moment."

But Jesus did not sing that song. Jesus didn't call the disciples to hold up his life as memory but as presence.

"I will not leave you orphaned," Jesus said, "I am coming to you." What a strange thing to say on the night of betrayal and arrest. He should have said, "I am leaving you." Jesus didn't deny what was going to happen. "In a little while the world will no longer see me," Jesus said, "but you will see me. Because I live, you also will live."

Jesus was calling his disciples to live and love in ways that seemed impossible. They couldn't do it, not without the Spirit. The Spirit is the other theme repeated over and over around the table. Sometimes Jesus says the Advocate, like someone who stands beside you in a court of law. Sometimes he says Helper, sometimes Spirit of Truth. When Jesus said, "I am coming to you," he didn't mean he would return like an old friend from a long journey. Jesus would be with believers in a different way. Or perhaps we could say that God would be with them in a different way because Jesus had been there.

The eternal, cosmic Word of God became flesh in Jesus. That's what John wrote at the very beginning of this Gospel.

The Spirit, which blew like a wind over the face of the deep in creation, took on flesh in the one who now sat with them at the table. This Living Word had just bent down to wash the disciples' dirty feet. You can't get much more down-to-earth than that. Jesus was very clear. The Spirit that dwells in me will abide also in you. Shortly before this, Jesus had said something audacious.

"Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do
the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these
because I am going to the Father."

If anyone other than Jesus had made such a claim, we would call it blasphemy. Yet, that's what Jesus said that night at the table, even as God breathed into lifeless clay to create a living person, the Spirit will breathe the presence of Jesus into you. In the power of the Spirit, Jesus will continue to be present with you. "I will not leave you orphaned. I am coming to you."

Love and the Spirit – these two are at the center of Jesus' farewell message, his Last Lecture Series.
"Love one another as I have loved you" and "The Spirit of Truth will abide with you when I am gone."
A little later in this same chapter, Jesus says, "The Holy Spirit, whom God will send in my name, will teach you everything and will remind you of all that I have said to you." That is, Jesus was saying: You don't know everything yet. You have more to learn.

In every generation you will be faced with new questions and perplexities. Does the sun revolve around the earth or is it the other way around? Should nuclear weapons ever be used against an enemy? Is social assistance the best way to bear one another's burdens? Should women who feel called by God be ordained to preach? Jesus knew there were some questions the sacred writings didn't address.
Jesus also acknowledged that there were some things he had never talked about. "The Spirit will be your tutor," he said, "guiding you into all the truth."

Rosemary Radford Reuther is a church historian. She says there are two things the church must do.
One is to pass on the tradition from one generation to another. We might say this is like King Arthur's song:
"Ask ev'ry person if they've heard the story,
and tell it loud and clear if they have not."

Tell the story of Jesus to your children and your children's children. But that's not all, says Reuther.
There is a second thing the church must do. Be open to the winds of the Spirit by which the tradition comes alive in each generation. That is different than Camelot, deeper than memory.

At the very end of this chapter, Jesus seems to be ready to leave. He says, "Rise, let us be on our way."
You can almost see him getting up from the table, then realizing that he forgot to say something.
"I am the vine," he says, sitting down again, "and my Father is the vine grower. Abide in me as I abide in you." But how can we abide in Jesus? He has told the disciples over and over, repeating himself at the table: You will abide in me through the gift of the Spirit. The Spirit will teach you how to love one another. The Spirit will keep us connected, said Jesus. You to me, all of us to God. And you to one another.

Years ago I read something rather odd: "The reason mountain climbers are tied together is to keep the sane ones from going home." Whoever said that was joking around a bit, for we know mountain climbers are tied together to keep from getting lost or going over a cliff. But there's another piece of truth here. When things get tough up on the mountain, when fear sets in, many a climber is tempted to say, "This is crazy! I'm going home." The life of faith can be like that – doubts set in, despair overwhelms us, and the whole notion of believing in God seems crazy.

Jesus knew his disciples would have days like that. So he told them we're tied together like branches on the vine – or like climbers tied to the rope – tied together by the Spirit, to trust in one who is always more than we can understand, to keep us moving ahead on the journey of faith, to encourage us when believing seems absurd. "I will not leave you orphaned," said Jesus. "I am coming to you."

This promise is far deeper than Camelot, and it wasn't only for Jesus' disciples, but also for you and for me. The Spirit ties us to Jesus. We feel a tug on the rope whenever we are tempted to settle for answers that make more sense, but cannot give life.

May God who breathed life into lifeless clay breathe life and hope into you now and in all the days to come.

Let us pray. Come, Holy Spirit, tie us to Jesus and to one another. Breathe into us not only memories but the very presence of Jesus that we may love one another even as Jesus has loved us. Amen.

The Gift of Mary

Tue, 16 May 2017 19:10:24 GMT

According to Hallmark Cards 27th July is Auntie’s day; 3rd October is Grandparents day, 21st June is Father’s day; 20th February is Pet’s day and today is Mother’s Day. In fact, find a relative and the card manufacturers will invent a day for it. I am sure that very soon there will be a great Aunt twice removed day.

So today apparently is Mother’s Day – unless of course you are in church, in which case ministers across the country reminding you that today is not Mother’s Day, it is Mothering or Family Sunday, and we will come to why in a little bit.

So what do you find on your cards from Hallmark or the card factory? Teddy Bears? Roses? And what does the lectionary give us as a bible reading for Mothering Sunday? John 19. Mary standing at the foot of the cross watching her son die. Anyone get a card this morning with a picture of that? I will buy you a round of beer for anyone who can find me a Mother’s Day card with a picture of Mary standing at the foot of the cross.

The biblical picture of Motherhood isn’t quite the saccharin image that we have from Hallmark.

In our first reading we have Hannah – finally finally giving birth. This is Hannah living in a polygamous marriage, trapped for years in the pain of infertility, taunted by her sexual rival, made to feel not good enough because she could not have a child.

Then we have Mary. Mary the teenage mum becoming pregnant when she is not yet married. Mary the young widow – we don’t know exactly when Joseph died, but we know that by the time Jesus is a grown up, Mary is maybe 45 or so, and Joseph is dead. Mary who stands at the foot of the cross watching her son die. Mary – and this is a powerful image – Mary in Michelangelo’s powerful statue of the Pieta, cradling her son’s dead body.

The biblical image of Motherhood doesn’t quite match that of the card manufacturers where nothing is ever difficult and everyone has 2.4 children.

Except of course that even plain and sailing motherhood isn’t quite like that.

One woman who had three children was asked, "If you had it all to do over again, would you have children?" "Yes," she replied, "But not the same ones.”

Another mother says, "The joy of motherhood is what a woman experiences when all the children are finally in bed."

In the church we are careful not to call this day Mother’s day, because there are people in our own congregation and in every congregation who find Mother’s Day difficult. Everyone can mother other people and everyone needs mothering. There are those like Hannah struggling with infertility or those who never met the right person or who for whatever reasons can’t have children. There are those like Mary cradling the dead Jesus for whom today brings up thoughts of grief. We have at least two members of our congregation who have seen their adult children die before them. There are many others for whom it is the loss of their mom that is painful. We may not all be mothers or have mothers but all of us need mothering.

There’s a well-known saying, origin unknown, “It takes a village to raise a child,” in other words, every single one of us needs more mothering than any one mother could ever provide. And although motherhood is a unique honour and challenge, all mothering takes place within families and communities and networks of support and influence.

In our reading “Jesus entrusted Mary to the disciple John but he didn’t entrust her to his brothers and sisters who were still alive. We know that he had four brothers – James, Joseph, Simon and Judas – and some sisters who are not named. That seems a little strange. Surely one of them could have looked after their mum into old age? But Jesus doesn’t pursue that option. Why? What else is going on here?

There is something quite profound about what Mary and the disciple John represent to us here. Because here are two people who are there with Jesus at the foot of the cross, two people who believe in his mission, two people who believe in his claim to be the Son of God – the Lord and Saviour of the world. This is in stark contrast to Jesus’ brothers. In John 7:5, we are told quite starkly, “Not even his brothers believed in him.”

So it seems that what is happening here between Jesus the Saviour and the two people at the foot of the Cross who believe in him, is that a new family is being created.

Verse 26 again: “Jesus saw his mother and the disciple he loved standing there; so he said to his mother, ‘He is your son.’ Then he said to the disciple, ‘She is your mother.’ From that time the disciple took her to live in his home.”

A new family is created in the shadow of the cross. Through the blood of Christ, a new home, a new community comes to life – a new family is born.

It is here, at the foot of the cross as Jesus sheds his blood and a woman embraces a boy and a boy embraces a woman – it is here that the church is formed!”

Apparently, the mother to give birth to the most children ever was Mrs Feodor Vassilyev who lived in 18th Century Russia. She gave birth to – wait for it – 69 children! 27 pregnancies including 16 pairs of twins, 7 sets of triplets, and four sets of quadruplets. Only two of the children died in infancy. Those of you who think your children are a handful – be glad that you are not Mrs Vasilyev!

69 children!

But the family formed at the foot of the cross is bigger than that. The family that little Thomas was baptized into today includes not just the 100 or so people here this morning, but also 2 billion other people around the world. Don’t worry Thomas, you don’t have to send all of them Christmas cards. “It takes a village to raise a child,” in other words, every single one of us needs more mothering than any one mother could ever provide. The story of John being entrusted to Mary and Mary to John is the start of a new family which is incredibly supportive. I can speak of the ways I have been supported by people in this congregation – but I know many of you have even more ways of how you have been supported by the motherly love of this congregation. Thomas, you have entered something quite special today.

In John’s Gospel – John represents all of us – that’s why he is never given a name – just referred to as the disciple Jesus loved. It’s like one of those films where you don’t see the main character because they are behind the camera – John is behind the camera – we see the Gospel through his eyes. So when John is entrusted to Mary, we all are entrusted to Mary. And because death is not the end for us, because Jesus has defeated death, that relationship continues. That’s why many Christians over the centuries and still today think of Mary as being a Mother to us. John 19:27 “Here is your mother.” “Woman, here is you child.” Jesus’ mom is now Our Mom.

Mary is also an example to us. As former Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams puts it, “For centuries, Christians have kept coming back to the idea that what happens in Mary is what has to happen to some degree in each of us. She, uniquely and once for all, says a yes so complete that her entire material life is changed by the coming of God to her; God's everlasting gift of himself that is the Son, the Word, emerges from her to begin that life which will change everything in creation. But we are called to the same job, to give God room so that we may be changed, so that the eternal Word will live in us and speak and act in love to others.”

Many of us are tempted to think – if only our children were better behaved, life would be easier. Don’t bet on it! Mary had a great son in Jesus – and look how hard her life was!

The good news that we can think of Jesus’s mom as being our mom – because death is no longer the final barrier – is also good news for all who have come here today to remember earthly mothers who no longer with you. Death has been defeated, so in that new family the church, your mothers in heaven are not separated but united with you through the love of Jesus.

But do you notice something about Jesus and Mary his mother in our reading today?

The roles reverse!

“Even though Jesus is dying he begins to mother her. She becomes the child. He calls her ‘Dear Woman’ and then proceeds to place her into the arms of his very best friend. He provides a shelter for her…

...In the same way today he wants to mother us. He notices us, even in our worst moments of pain, shame and humiliation, he is there for us. When we have our crosses to bear, he is there for us, just like Mary was for him.

It was Jesus who described himself as a ‘mother’ – a mother hen who longed to gather her ‘brood’ under her wings, and give them her peace, if only they would let her.

There are SO many lessons that Jesus teaches us from the cross itself. He shows us the way, by his own example, how we ought to forget our own selves, our pain, our miseries and complaints, and give love like that of a mother to others.”

So today, as we give thanks for our human mothers and all they did for us, let us remember the motherly love of Mary and Jesus to us, and be inspired to show that motherly love to others.

Easter Musings

Thu, 11 May 2017 15:05:14 GMT

The events we celebrate today are at the very heart of Christian faith.

Without the resurrection, our faith means nothing!

It is our belief in the resurrection that sets Christianity apart from other faiths.

But what is it? What does it mean to have resurrection faith?

It’s not just believing in the empty tomb.

Matthew’s gospel tells us that there was an explanation circulating

that the body had been stolen.

It’s not believing that people can be raised from the dead,

because those who had believed that Jesus was John the Baptist

raised from the dead and those who saw Lazarus raised from the dead

are not described as having resurrection faith.

It’s not even just believing that Jesus came back to life

after he had been dead for a few days, because Matthew again

tells us that the guards and the chief priests actually knew that that had happened.

The guards in fact were the only eye witnesses to the resurrection.

But the guards and the priests formed a conspiracy to suppress the information

and they are certainly not examples of resurrection faith,

even though they believed that Jesus had come back to life.

Resurrection faith is also not the unwavering belief

in a particular concept of the resurrection.

The appearances of the risen Christ are described in so many different ways

in the gospels that it is impossible to hold steadfastly to any one detailed explanation

of the resurrection and still make sense of them all.

In fact, the gospel writers seem determined to explain the resurrection

in so many ways that there will be one to make sense to just about everyone!

Don’t understand it that way – what about this?

So then, what is resurrection faith?

What is it that is so important about Easter?

As a people, you know, we’re sort of slow to catch on to how God works!

Let’s start back near the beginning of our faith story…

The book of Exodus tells us that there arose in Egypt a Pharaoh

who did not remember Joseph of the technicolor dream coat,

and he made the Hebrew people into slaves.

He had them forced to do unbearable work under whip-wielding tyrants

and when they complained he had all their male babies killed.

This was the first of many genocides against the Jewish people.

And if you know anything about human psychology you won’t be surprised to know

that many of those Jews were quite happy with their slavery.

Sure the work was hard – but they got three square meals a day

and it wasn’t so bad once you learned to adjust and not upset the masters.

The bent back grows calloused to the sting of the whip

and after a while you hardly feel it. At least you know where you stand.

There’s no uncertainties. You adjust. You adapt.

But God came back.

First to Moses, who was minding his own business in a meadow

when a bush burst into flame.

“I’ve heard the cry of my people,” said the voice from the bush,

“and I’m going to set them free.

I’m going head to head with Pharaoh and guess who’s going to help me?”

Moses stammered “But, but...” But there are no “buts” with God.

God came back.

Once free, Israel didn’t manage to stay free for long.

Just a few hundred years and then down from the north came the chariots,

war horses, and iron spears of the Assyrians.

Cities were burned and pillaged.

Whole tribes were carted off into cruel exile.

And within a few years the Babylonians marched down

and finished off what the Assyrians had left behind.

Back into slavery. Deportation. Death.

Think Serbia. Bosnia. East Timor. Rwanda. Syria.

But God came back.

A fiery tongued prophet named Jeremiah, promised return to the downtrodden exiles.

In a speech of inspiration and consolation the prophet pointed the way

to a great home-coming party, a great dance of joy and celebration

to outdo anything you’ve ever seen.

Tyrants, Assyrian or any other variety, get pretty edgy and call out the troops

whenever the people on the bottom begin to dance and sing and make music.

When the tambourines begin to beat out the freedom songs,

CSIS and the RCMP want to know why.

And how come they had the guts to sing and dance under the noses of the guards?

Because God came back.

A little two-bit town in a back corner of the Galilean grid in the first century –

Roman troops on every corner, registering these Jews,

enrolling them in order to better control and oppress them.

The greatest, most powerful, army the world had ever seen in service

to the most ruthless dictator – what can anybody do?

Assyrians, Romans, it’s all the same. You adjust. You adapt.

Keep your head down. Say your prayers.

Don’t draw attention to yourself. But then –

Down in a small side street, in a stable out back, a young woman begins to sing.

“My soul magnifies the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my saviour…

for God has scattered the proud,

and God has pulled down the mighty from their thrones.”

Mary –there are Romans on the corner, why do you clench your fist and sing?

Mary replies, “Well I’m going to have a baby.”

God came back.

Good Friday didn’t take anybody by surprise.

If you know the way the religious-political-economic establishment works,

then you know that Jesus was doomed from the start.

He disregarded too may social conventions, associated with the wrong people.

He went to too many parties with partiers and people of loose morals.

And the public insults he cast at the clergy.

Friday’s bloody business at “The Place of the Skull” came as no surprise.

You can’t fight the government. Caesar had the troops.

The crowd turned against us.

The one who came inviting us all to life found himself nailed to the cross.

Death added another trophy to its cabinet.

We told the women, “You go on out to the cemetery

and take these flowers to show our last respects to Jesus.

We’ll come out later in the day.”

And so the women went out to death’s memorial park and peered into the tomb. Surprise!

God came back!

And on the way back from the cemetery Jesus meets them and says “Greetings!”

The funeral arrangements they’re holding look a bit silly at that point

and they fall down and worship.

God came back.

The joyous shouts of the women had been heard before.

In Miriam’s song as the sea surged back over Pharaoh’s chariots.

In the tambourine dances of the homecoming exiles promised by Jeremiah.

In the war chant lullaby of the pregnant Mary. It’s been heard before.

God came back. What else can you do? Sing, celebrate, worship.

God came back.

When will we stop adapting to the ways of death and begin to expect God

to come back and overthrow the powers of death and tyranny?

When will we get it into our heads that God is the Come-back King,

that resurrection is God’s way and that Easter Sunday was not the opening shot

but the climactic victory of God’s war against death?

Look at the stories of Jesus’ life.

All the way through you can see that death was losing its grip.

Every time somebody once crippled stood and walked, or blind eyes began to see,

or prisoners of fear broke free, or the outcast danced in the temple,

death was being pushed onto the back foot, and fullness of life

was having its way over deadliness and despair.

Every time Jesus was confronted with the finger prints of death, life broke through.

By the time we get to Easter, how could the tomb be anything but empty?

This is what resurrection faith is all about.

It’s got nothing to do with theories and doctrines and speculations

about the nature of Jesus’s post-Easter body.

It is a radical trust in the God who keeps coming back when everything seems lost.

It is a willingness in the face of overwhelming odds,

of oppressive power-mongering and the might of dollar and dictator,

to entrust ourselves to the ways of life and love.

To sing and dance and celebrate in the face of those

who would stifle joy and measure out existence by the spoonful.

To rejoice even in the face of our own doubts because, as Matthew said,

even face to face with the risen Christ some still doubted.

So used have we become to the inevitability of the ways of death

that we suspect we’ve lost our grip when we see with our own eyes that it is not so.

Life is bigger than our doubts.

Bigger than our accommodation to the ways of the lifeless.

Bigger than any army or dictator or power monger who would stand over you

and wrest your life from your hands.

Even if they kill the body, they have no power to stop the one

who keeps coming back and resurrecting us body and soul

– bringing us back to life and life in its most abundant form.

Easter Sunday is not an isolated event.

It is unique in its climactic nature, but we’ve had glimpses of it over and over again

as God has repeatedly, down through history,

responded to people faced with the power of death by leading them forward

to freedom and fullness of life.

Easter is everywhere, wherever the Spirit of God comes back

in the hearts of downtrodden people and they begin the dance of life,

with futures resurrected as they follow the resurrected Lord of life

and become part of God’s great movement of raising life from the midst of death

when all hope seems gone.

We are here today, singing and celebrating because in the face of it all,

God came back.

Taking Risks

Thu, 23 Feb 2017 19:01:18 GMT

When someone mentions an eagle, what do you think of in your mind?

Many people imagine a big bird, flying high up in the air, with its wings spread out, moving around gracefully with so little effort. The eagle has very sharp eyes which can see a long distance. When it sees a meal, like a rabbit on the ground, it can come down very fast and grab the animal with its sharp claws. The eagle is called the king of the birds. It has great strength, super vision and really strong claws.

A story is told of a man who found an eagle’s egg. He put it with his chickens and the mother hens. Soon the egg hatched. The young eagle grew up with all the other chickens. Whatever the chickens did, the eagle also did. He thought he was a chicken, just like them. Since the chickens could only fly for a short distance, the eagle also learnt to fly a short distance. He thought that was what he was supposed to do. So that was all that he thought he could do. And that was all he was able to do.

One day the eagle saw a bird flying high above him. He was very impressed. “Who is that?” he asked the hens around him.

“That’s the eagle, the king of the birds,” the hens told him. “He belongs to the sky. We belong to the earth — we are chickens.

The eagle was faced with a challenge: live and die as a chicken, for that's all he'd ever known; or take a risk and go beyond his self-understanding.

Are you an eagle or a chicken?

What's the Deal with Pancake Day?

Tue, 21 Feb 2017 18:56:58 GMT

Pancake Day, also known as Pancake Tuesday or Shrove Tuesday, is the day before the first day of Lent, known as Ash Wednesday. Shrove Tuesday is always 47 days before Easter Sunday so Pancake Day falls sometime between February and March every year. Pancake Day is also known as Mardi Gras, a French name meaning Fat Tuesday. This year Pancake Day is on Tuesday, February 28.

Christians around the world see Shrove Tuesday as a day for reflection and self-examination. The term 'shrove' comes from the word 'shrive', meaning to free oneself from sin by doing penance. This was seen as a way to start Lent with a clean slate. So on Shrove Tuesday people are called to think about what wrongs they need to repent and how to grow spiritually during the coming 40 days of fasting and prayer.

Now you may be wondering how pancakes fit into this saga. On Shrove Tuesday Christians traditionally used up food that could not be eaten during the Lenten fast. By the year 1000, Christians had embraced the habit of clearing their kitchen in order to prepare for Lent. The pancakes, however, didn't make their appearance until the 1600s. To avoid food waste, people would empty their cupboards of perishable food and make the most of it by whipping up delicious pancakes.

Pancakes are an easy way to use up eggs, butter and milk as well as other fatty foods like chocolate spread and sugar commonly found in kitchens. Pancake ingredients were also thought to represent the four pillars of the Christian faith: eggs for creation, milk for purity, flour representing nourishment and salt for wholesomeness.

While some countries like Canada, the United States, Great Britain, and Australia celebrate by consuming pancakes, in other countries, especially where Shrove Tuesday is called Mardi Gras, this day is a carnival day, and the last day of "fat eating" or "gorging" before the beginning of Lent.

So eat up! Enjoy those pancakes and consider what you're going to do to mark the season of Lent.

Try a Little Kindness

Tue, 14 Feb 2017 18:44:37 GMT

Lately I've been thinking about kindness. I've noticed a distinct edginess in the air. It cannot simply be attributed to recent political events or "he who must not be named" in the United States of America. The general tenor of public discourse has taken a turn toward coarse intolerance and impatience with one another that makes life more difficult than it needs to be. Next week February 17-24 is Kindness Week and this is one voluntary day of recognition that I am going to celebrate. I am tired of snapping and being snapped at by others in the course of the day. Imagine what would happen if we made a deliberate choice to respond to snarky comments with kindness! I think we could literally change the world one person at a time.

Why be kind? (Or what's in it for me?)

Kind people are happier. Kindness received makes people happier so hold a door open, smile at a stranger, pay someone a compliment. A recent study found people who deliberately did five random acts of kindness a day for ten weeks were 25% happier than those who did not.

Kind people are healthier and often live longer. The health effects of acting kindly are threefold: it lowers blood pressure significantly, it reduces stress, and improves sleep - all factors that increase longevity.

Kindness is contagious. Not only does treating others with kindness impact your health but it actually helps the one receiving the kindness. This 'pay it foward' effect is a natural extension of the human psyche. In other words, kindness begets kindness. It is a ripple effect.

Kindness doesn't cost a cent. We don't have a reservoir of kindness that can be depleted if used - kindness is a renewable resource! Kindness is simply a choice chosen constantly - it is a way of living rather than a simple gesture.

Kindness makes all the difference. Human beings are more likely to excel in positive environments - its just the way we were wired by Creator!

So in the words of singer Glen Campbell...try a little kindness.

Sir John A. McDonald – A Dubious Beginning

Wed, 06 Jul 2016 18:18:05 GMT

July 1 is Canada Day, a day during which many Canadians celebrate the achievements of the founding fathers of this country. Sir John Alexander Macdonald, as the first Prime Minister of Canada, July 1, 1867 – November 5, 1873, (and again October 17, 1878 – June 6 1891) will be one of those whose achievements will be celebrated.

I Lost A Friend Today – Abruptly and Again

Tue, 05 Jul 2016 18:14:03 GMT

I lost a friend today – abruptly and again. This friend and I were a team for a few years when we worked together in ministry. Then in a moment of great need on my part, she abruptly stopped supporting me. It has been three years, and yet, my heart lurched when I heard of her passing.

Thinking about Vulnerability

Mon, 11 Jan 2016 18:09:23 GMT

Yesterday I had surgery. It wasn’t a big deal – the procedure was easy…due to the miracle of modern pharmacopeia I slept through it. The next day, today, is a lot worse. As I stumble around the house I’ve been thinking a lot about vulnerability. It’s interesting that there is hardly a soul alive that likes being vulnerable. Yet, as Christians, we follow one who, like us, came into the world as a babe – one who was completely dependent on others for everything.

What are we Remembering?

Mon, 09 Nov 2015 18:02:56 GMT

Remembrance Day is a challenge for Christian preachers. For most of us our permanent default is to be peacemakers. And that makes it difficult to stand before a congregation and praise the work of soldiers. At first glance, Remembrance Day is all about war…and thus is presumed to be the opposite of peace, But I’ve never met a soldier who hasn’t been all about peace. They, who have seen the worst humanity can do to one another, are passionate about ending the violence of war even as they know that sometimes war is inevitable. Albert Camus once wrote: “peace is the only battle worth waging.” The soldiers I’ve known understand that and have committed their bodies to following it up.

The Seasons, They are A-Changin'

Mon, 09 Nov 2015 14:07:05 GMT

I love this time of year. This morning air is crisp and cool, the sky is a brilliant blue, the vibrant and varied fall foliage transform our landscape with hues of red, orange, and yellow. And change is afoot, not only in nature. In various ways, our corner of the world is preparing for a changing season. It means closing up the cottage, settling back into the school routine, preparing our gardens for the snow, putting on our winter tires. We are right in the midst of a season of transition and change.

Whatever Happened to the Comprehensive Review at General Council?

Sun, 16 Aug 2015 17:58:42 GMT

After several days of discussion, the General Council has passed a reworked version of the Comprehensive Review Task Group (CRTG) recommendations.

The omnibus proposal passed with 95 percent of commissioners voting in favour and 4 percent against. The omnibus motion was moved by Cathy Hamilton, who chaired the CRTG, and seconded by Larry Doyle, who co-chaired the CRTG Sessional Committee.

Highlights of the proposal include:

A three-council model consisting of communities of faith, regional councils, and a denominational council (presbytery and conference are going to disappear and become regional councils). Order of Ministry will be members of regional councils, not of communities of faith.
Support to new ministries and new forms of ministry through an initiative tentatively called Chasing the Spirit, with 10 percent of annual Mission & Service givings to be invested in the initiative approval of the CRTG’s original recommendations regarding Aboriginal Ministries. Ministry and mission activities will continue to be funded by Mission & Service.
Governance and support services will be funded by the denominational council assessing communities of faith. The details of that assessment are still to be developed.
Regional councils also have authority to assess communities of faith for any additional services the regional council wishes to undertake.
The denominational council will not hold large meetings with representation from each community of faith. Regional councils will elect representatives to attend denominational council meetings every three years.
The executive of the regional council will have fewer members than the current Executive of the General Council. The new executive would consist of 12-18 members. The composition of that membership is yet to be determined.
There will not be a college of ministers. Instead, there will be a denominational office of vocation comprised of staff and nominated elected representatives.
Alongside the three-council structure there will be less formal clusters and networks.
Elimination of the transfer and settlement processes for members of the Order of Ministry
A working group will consider the idea of establishing an Association of Ministers.
A precise method of assessments is to be developed, informed by principles approved by General Council 42.
authorization of a category 3 remit to presbyteries and pastoral charges regarding these changes
Prior to the issuing of remits, a number of items will be further developed, such as the number of regions, membership of regional councils and executives, and the relationship of the regional and denominational councils to staff.
In addition, the General Council waived the requirement for 24 months of study before the remit return date for the category 3 remits arising from the Comprehensive Review.

Council also advanced the date of the regular meeting of the 43rd General Council from 2018 to sometime in 2017.

It also approved that test projects for the three-council structure and the office of vocation begin immediately and approved that provision be made for the participation of youth and young adults in all three councils.

To review the Comprehensive Review Task Group’s passed motion yourself go to http://www.gc42.ca/ and click on CRTG.

Originally posted on the GC42 website. Summary posted by Rev. Jeff Cook

New Ministry, New Challenges

Sat, 11 Jul 2015 17:51:25 GMT

Hello Friends,

I’ve moved from native ministry on Christian Island to a wonderful congregation in the heart of Ottawa – Glebe-St. James United Church. GSJ is an Affirming Congregation in the United Church of Canada – which means that they are deliberate in welcoming everyone who comes in the doors. What particularly interested me was their commitment to social justice and, in particular, their desire to understand and support the neighbouring First Nations communities.

They are also interested in using social media to reach further into the community. To that end, not only can you visit this blog, you can also find us on Facebook and, Lord forbid, on the web at www.glebestjames.com . Our intrepid church administrator is busy at work linking all these items together.

Watch this space for reflecting on the Truth and

Cross-Cultural Issues - Pow Wow Etiquette

Sat, 07 Jul 2012 17:46:37 GMT

Summer is the time for the Pow Wow Trail. Throughout North America different nations are celebrating their annual pow wows and most are open to visitors. These events are wonderful opportunities to drink in the best of the culture. While things seem pretty free and open, there are rules to observe. Like anything else, it is hard to know what to do unless you are told – so consider the following before heading out to your local pow wow.

While the rules vary slightly from region to region, the following are fairly universal basics:

Dress and act appropriately. Hot pants, halter tops, swimwear, profanity and ‘making out’ have no place at Pow Wows. If you are going to dance anything other than open intertribals, wear your regalia.
Seating – Unless you are sure spectator seating will be provided, bring a lawn chair. Remember that the seating immediately around the Arena is for dancers only.
Do not sit on the benches around the arena. These benches are reserved for the dancers in regalia only. Seats with blankets, shawls or regalia items on them are taken and should not be bothered. Do NOT sit on someone else’s blanket unless invited. Uncovered seats are considered available. You may set up your chairs directly behind the benches, and it is usually good courtesy to ask the permission of the dancer whose bench you are sitting behind, as he/she might have family who are going to sit by him or her.
Photographs – ask permission before taking pictures of dancers. Many people are sensitive about pictures, so it is always good to be on the safe side and ask. Pictures should NOT be taken during Veterans Songs, Flag Songs, Prayers or any other time announced by the Master of Ceremonies. If the picture is for publication or commercial use, that should be explained before the picture is taken.
Pointing with the fingers is considered poor manners by some nations. If you must point, use your head and nod in the direction you wish to indicate.
Pets should be left at home. The Arena is a sacred place from the time it is blessed until the Pow Wow is over. At no time should pets be allowed in the Arena.
Listen to the Master of Ceremonies. He will give you all of the information you need, as well as entertain you and keep you posted on the news. Any questions you have can be answered by him. He will announce who is to dance and when. Most Pow Wows conduct Intertribals in which the public may participate. Check with the Arena Director for more information. Respect the Head Man and Head Woman Dancers. Their role entitles them to start each song or set of songs. Please wait until they have started to dance before you join in. In some traditions, it is considered improper to pass the Head Man or Woman Dancer within the Arena.
Behaviour During Special Songs – Always stand during special songs. This includes Grand Entry, Flag Songs, Veteran Songs, Memorial Songs, Prayer Songs, or any other song that the M.C. designates. It is also customary to remove any hats that you have on for the duration of that song. Show respect to the Flag, Honor and Veterans songs by standing until the song is completed.
Participation in Special Dances – Some songs require that you be familiar with the routine or have special eligibility rules in order to participate. Trot dances, snake, buffalo, etc. require particular steps or routines. Veterans dances may be restricted to Veterans, Combat Veterans or in some cases, the relations of Veterans. If you are not familiar with a particular dance, observe and learn. Watch the Head Dancers to learn the procedures.
Donations – Most Pow Wows are non-profit and depend upon donations, raffles, blanket dances, etc. for support. Donations are encouraged as a way to honor someone. Any participant can drop money onto the blanket to aid in the powwow expenses.
Donate money to the Drum. This is done during a blanket dance, when a blanket will be laid out on the ground and a song or songs will be sung. It is customary to place a loonie (or more if you wish) on the blanket and dance the rest of that song, regardless of if you are dressed or not. If you don’t want to dance, you should ask a dancer to place the money on the drum for you. The drum has probably traveled a great distance to give you the beautiful songs you hear, and count on this to help pay their expenses.
Respect the traditions. Certain items of religious significance should be worn only by those qualified to do so. Never intentionally touch a dancer’s regalia, person or property without permission.
Behaviour around the Drum – Before sitting at a drum, ask permission from the Head singer. Do not touch a drum without permission. Women do not touch or play the drum. They can sing if invited and they know the songs.
Clear Minds – Alcohol, recreational drugs and firearms are prohibited at most Pow Wows.
Lost Feathers – If you see a lost feather, or you yourself drop a feather, do NOT pick it up. Notify the nearest Veteran, the Head Veteran, Head Man Dancer or Arena Director immediately.
If you have a question, ask. Most dancers, singers, the MC, Arena Director, Elders and staff are happy to help. Offer a cold drink or other small, symbolic gift to those who help you.
Finally, remember you are a guest. Have fun, ask questions and meet people. Enjoy the crafters and vendors who bring their ware. And bring your appetite – check out the scone dogs, Indian Tacos and much more!

Practical Ecumenism

Mon, 28 May 2012 17:38:44 GMT

Ministry on the island is intimately pretty practical. I was planning to head to the Indian Fellowship Meeting at Rama First Nation today but last night one of the Roman Catholic women on the island stopped by. One of her relatives had passed away and was being brought home to the island today. Unfortunately, the priest, not understanding the need for his presence at this time, was not able to be available for the “welcome home to the island” ceremony. So…I threw on my clerical collar and went down to meet the ferry, then vested and led the service at the Catholic Church. As a former Catholic myself it was a little strange to be vested and leading worship in the Catholic Church in place of the priest! (But I kind of liked it!) The family isn’t sure whether the priest will be there for the wake tonight so I have to be prepared to lead that too… And be ready to play and sing as well.

Sunday School Does Easter

Mon, 02 Apr 2012 17:30:30 GMT

The Easter Egg Hunt, requested by the kids, is a huge success!