We will jump into June on Sunday June 2nd with a special worship with the RCMP Veterans Association. The National RCMP Veterans Association will hold their Annual General Meeting in Saskatoon from Thursday, May 30^th to Sunday, June 2^nd at the Delta Bessborough Hotel. The Veterans Association traditionally includes a Church Parade and Ecumenical Church Service in conjunction with the AGM, and this year we have agreed to host this event at St. Andrew’s.

Beginning at 10 am there will be a short parade from the hotel to the church, a time of coffee and fellowship in the lower hall beginning at 10:15 am, and the veterans and their spouses will join us for worship at 11:00 am. Rev. Amanda will unfortunately be away on study leave, but worship will be led by the Rev. Jim McKay with retired Anglican Bishop Rod Andrews who serves as the Chaplain for the RCMP Veterans Association.

Please join us for worship as we welcome our special guests. Anyone wishing to join the choir for that Sunday to assist in leading the hymn singing would be most welcome to do so.

Mark Sunday, June 16th in your calendar too! Following a family worship service in the morning, we’ll have a Church Picnic in the Park with a potluck picnic lunch, ice cream treats, singing, and games. Bring the whole family!

“A Spirit of Adoption”

Pentecost is sometimes called “the birthday of the church.” We gather to remember and celebrate what happened on the first Pentecost after Jesus’ death and resurrection – how the Holy Spirit was poured out in power on the gathered disciples… making them one, sending them out in mission, empowering them to proclaim the gospel to all the people of the world.

It seems fitting on this day, to begin by remembering what Pentecost is all about. And it seems fitting to share part of a reflection that was published online for Pentecost this week. It’s a message from the Presidents of the World Council of Churches. They write:

“We have celebrated with joy the feast of Easter. We have remembered Jesus’ departure from his disciples, those he loved and those who loved him at his Ascension into heaven. Now, today, we celebrate the feast of Pentecost, the day of God’s priceless gift to the world, the gift of the Holy Spirit. We are called in the power of that Spirit to turn again to God, to give ourselves to Jesus Christ joyfully and to serve our brothers and sisters who do not yet know the good news that Jesus loves them.

“Long before the birth of Jesus, the people of Israel who gave our festival its name were celebrating Pentecost. At Pentecost the Israelites gave thanks for the harvest and offered the first fruits. They remembered how God had saved them from slavery in Egypt and gave them the Ten Commandments. In the book of Deuteronomy we read: “Remember that you were a slave in Egypt” (Deut. 16:12).

“Many years have now passed since the days when Israel first celebrated the feast of Pentecost, recalling to mind God’s saving acts for God’s people. Today, Pentecost has taken on a new significance for us. We are no longer required to give to God the first fruits of the harvest. It is, rather, God who gives to us a gift, the gift of the Holy Spirit, to rekindle the flame of divine infinite love shown in the dying and rising of Jesus Christ for the salvation of the whole world.”

At Christmas-time many people celebrate by giving gifts to one another. As we remember the Magi presenting gifts to the Christ-child, and as we celebrate God’s precious gift to the world – the birth of the child himself – it seems very fitting to give gifts to one another. So why don’t we give each other gifts at Pentecost? God sent the gift of the Son into the world for a short, but precious time. But at Jesus’ request, God sent the Spirit into the world once and for all time.

Today we remember the day that the Spirit of God came rushing into the house where Jesus’ first disciples were gathered in Jerusalem. We remember the way it transformed them from people who were scared and confused and unsure, into bold and brave apostles who went out to proclaim the love of God in word and deed. But we do not just remember something that happened two thousand years ago to people in a faraway land… we celebrate today because the Spirit of God is with us now as it was with them. The Holy Spirit is with us, and in us, and between us.

The Apostle Paul, in his letter to the Christian community at Rome, writes about the Spirit of God that they too have received as a gift. He tells them, “you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption.”

I think sometimes when people think of religion, they think about a set of traditions and practices that individuals decide to adopt. They think of demands being put on our lives and decision-making. They think of all the rules and commandments that we must adhere to. Religions are portrayed as setting limits and stifling possibilities.

But Paul describes the Christian faith in a very different way. He reminds the Roman Christians that they have received the Spirit of God as a gift. And it isn’t a spirit of slavery. It’s not a spirit of rules, and laws, and punishments for not obeying God perfectly. They have no reason to be afraid. Fear is not what our faith is about.

Paul says, “you have received a spirit of adoption.” The Spirit has indeed blown into their lives and transformed them. The Spirit has come to dwell with them and in them because they now belong to God. But they don’t belong to God like a slave belongs to a master. They belong to God like a child belongs to her adoptive parent. And that’s how we belong to God too.

If you want to be reminded of how much God loves you in Jesus Christ, the Gospel of John is an excellent book of the Bible to read. There are several chapters in the middle (14, 15, 16, 17) in which Jesus is talking to his disciples, teaching them, encouraging them, reassuring them, praying for them, and praying for us.

The tragic part of the story, of course, is that Jesus is about to die. Jesus knows it. His friends know it. These are Jesus’ final words to them, and they’re all struggling to make sense of this terrible thing that is about to happen.

I imagine that, as Jesus approached the time of his death, he must have felt very much like a parent. He must have felt like a parent who knows he’s dying and is trying to prepare his children. At one point he even says, “I will not leave you orphaned.”

The fact is, though, that Jesus is going to die and he will no longer be physically present with his disciples. They’re going to be on their own, and he’s preparing them for that reality. But they’re going to have each other, and they’re going to have an even more precious gift – the Holy Spirit. The Spirit of God will come and live within them, and the Spirit will never leave them, and the Spirit will remind them of who they are and whose they are – that they belong to God.

There are many titles and names used for the Holy Spirit in the Bible, and quite a few of them come from the Gospel of John. And I like the one from this morning’s passage. Here, the Spirit of God is described as an advocate who will be with us forever. Advocate is a funny word for the Spirit of God, isn’t it? But maybe you can think of a situation when you really need an advocate… someone is threatening to sue you, or someone is falsely accusing you of a crime, someone is taking advantage of you, or someone is neglecting you, someone is refusing to listen to your concerns… and you need someone to stick up for you. You need someone to argue your case. You need someone on your side to help you, to guide you, to advise you.

It’s just the kind of situation that a parents worries about when their child goes out on his own. If I’m not there, who will watch out for him? If I can’t protect her, how will I know that she will be okay?

Jesus was like that protective parent, making sure that even when he was gone his children would not be orphaned or left to fend for themselves. Jesus asks the Father to send an advocate – the Holy Spirit – to be with us and help us. No, the Holy Spirit isn’t a lawyer, but the Spirit is an advocate… an advocate from God who will teach us everything, and remind us of all that Jesus has said.

I asked the children this morning what scares them, and now I’m asking you the same question. No, you don’t have to tell me your answers, but I want you to think about it. What scares you?

Maybe it’s praying out loud or finding the words to share your faith with your neighbour. Maybe it’s making a change in your life like a new career, or going back to school, or getting married, or down-sizing your home. Maybe it’s speaking up with your opinion or your ideas when you don’t know how they’ll be received. Maybe it’s asking for help when you’re not sure if you should really need it. Maybe it’s carrying on and living your life after a loss, or a disappointment, or a failure. What scares you?

You have good reason to be scared. I know you do. I understand. But I want to remind you today that you have not received a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption. You belong to God. And the Spirit of God is with you and in you to remind you of that fact, and to help you and guide you in all that you must do.

Think of that first group of disciples gathered together in Jerusalem after Jesus had gone up into heaven. They waited, and they wondered, and they probably worried about what was going to happen next. And then the Spirit of God rushed in from heaven: “There came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.” Think of the power of that Holy Spirit to fill them, and inspire them, and equip them to do all that God was calling them to do. And the Spirit of God will help us to do the same.

Both as individuals and as a church, we have received the precious gift of the Holy Spirit. May the Spirit remind us today of who and whose we are, and may we be filled with a spirit of courage and confidence to proclaim the love of God in word and deed. Amen.

“Jesus is Praying for Us”

There’s a continuing theme that begins in the Gospels, continues and grows through the Acts of the Apostles, and is picked up again and again in the letters of Paul and others in the time of the earliest Churches. It’s the idea that the love of God and the Good News of Jesus Christ is for all the people of the world.

Jesus was born to a Jewish family and lived as a faithful Jew. His ministry began among the Jews and for the Jews, and then it began to spread. Jesus went beyond the boundaries of religion, race, gender, and social standing… engaging in conversation with those beyond his immediate community, reaching out in love to those on the margins of society, and by the end of the Gospels, encouraging his disciples to go and preach the Gospel to the ends of the earth, to all the people of the world.

This morning I decided to include two readings from the Book of Acts. The first one about Paul and his friends going to Macedonia, meeting Lydia, and Lydia and her household being baptized, was the reading assigned for last Sunday. We did Camp Sunday instead, so we didn’t get to hear it last week.

The second one Dorothy read for us this morning about Paul and Silas exorcising an evil spirit from a slave-girl, and then getting flogged and thrown in jail. While in jail, they keep their spirits up with singing hymns, and in the middle of the night there is an earthquake that causes all the doors of the jail and the chains to become unfastened. The jailer freaks out and is about to take his own life, thinking that all the prisoners are going to escape and he’ll be in big trouble.

But Paul and the others stay put. They reassure the jailer that everything’s going to be okay, and the jailer and his household end up getting baptized and following Jesus with their lives.

The Book of Acts provides us with so many wonderful stories of conversion! So many different people, hearing God’s Word, experiencing God’s grace, seeing God’s love in action and turning their lives to follow Christ! But Paul Walaskay, reflecting on these stories, notices especially the diversity of those who are called and the unity they share as they become members of the body of Christ, the Church. Walaskay writes: “Our narrator has skillfully expanded Paul’s groundbreaking statement in Galatians 3:28 into an elegant story.

‘There is no longer Jew [Paul and Silas] or Greek [Lydia, the slave-girl, the jailer], there is no longer slave [the slave-girl] or free [Lydia, Paul], there is no longer male [Paul, Silas, the jailer] and female [Lydia, the slave-girl]; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.’”

In all our diversity of background, culture, social standing, and gender, there is room in the Church for us all. These distinctions no longer matter within the Christian community, for we are one in Christ Jesus.

Of course, we know from experience that “knowing” we are one in Christ is only the first step. Living into that unity is often the more difficult part because it means getting beyond stereotypes and prejudices we hold about others who are different. It means welcoming and respecting people with whom we sometimes disagree. It means staying together, and working through conflicts, and sometimes agreeing to disagree on some issues or choosing to let some things go. It means committing ourselves to treat each other with respect, to avoid gossip and rumours, and to listen to one another and seek to understand.

Last week when I was preparing for Camp Sunday, I started searching through my dresser for a camp shirt to wear. I chose a red t-shirt from the last time I volunteered as the chaplain at Gracefield, the Presbyterian camp in Quebec. But I also found another staff shirt from Gracefield. It was one I got 20 years ago when I was working as the Assistant Cook at Gracefield, and just taking it out brought back some great memories of the unified Christian community that we shared at camp that summer when I was 18.

The design on the back of the shirt says it all, really. It’s a circle of people holding hands. And inside the circle, there’s the theme verse that we chose for our summer together: Philippians 4:13 “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.”

It was a silly game we liked to play that summer that got us started on the circles. We would stand together in a circle and play this game called “Ooooshaaaa!” I don’t remember the rules now, but it involved going around the circle and saying a bunch of gobbledygook words. There was a sequence to the words, a pattern to follow, and different levels of difficulty as you added more words and sequences.

Someone introduced the game during staff training and we played it all summer. Any time a group was together, we’d find ourselves standing in a circle, and we’d play the game. If someone else came along, they could join right in. If they didn’t know the rules, we’d teach them and they’d be part of the group.

The circle became the symbol of our Christian community that summer… welcome, friendship, fun, connection. With all our diversity of age, background, colour, culture, and experience, there was room for us all in the circle and we were one.

And later, as we faced difficulties together… tiredness and stress from the work of ministry, conflict and the unexpected departure of our camp cook, our circle of faith and friendship kept us strong and encouraged us to keep going. We reminded each other in that circle, that we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us.

Christian community feels great when we all get along and agree about what we should be doing in worship, service, outreach, and fellowship. When the Session or one of the committees or groups of the church is meeting, and when someone presents an idea and everyone says, “Yes, that seems good to us.” Or when someone shares an idea, and someone else says, “Yes, and how about this.” And someone else says, “Yes, and why don’t we try it this way”… those are encouraging and uplifting meetings!

But the reality is that we don’t always agree, and we won’t always agree. Different backgrounds and experiences, different cultures and generations, different priorities and ways of thinking will mean that finding unity will sometimes be a lot of work, not just an easy agreement.

And we’re not the first Christian community to have this challenge. Christians throughout history have struggled to find and to maintain unity, especially in the face of persecution, stress, or uncertainty about the future. Just think about Jesus’ first disciples. Remember when they were walking along the road one day and Jesus heard them arguing with each other? They were arguing over which one of them was the greatest. The one who serves the others, Jesus told them. But that’s easier said than done when it comes to our human nature.

As Jesus’ earthly ministry was drawing to a close, John’s Gospel records a long discourse that he gave. It included instructions, and encouragement, and promises for his disciples. And then it moved into prayers. Jesus prayed for his disciples, asking God to send the Holy Spirit to help them, and asking God to make them one.

And in the short passage we read this morning, Jesus prays not only for his first disciples, but for all who will believe in him through their word. Jesus prays for us. We’re the ones who have believed in Christ through the word and witness of Jesus’ first disciples, through the Scriptures and the Tradition of those who came before us in the faith.

What a gift! When we’re struggling to get along, when we’re struggling to understand each other, when we’re feeling hurt or excluded or misunderstood, when it seems like conflict and disagreement are threatening to break us apart… Jesus is praying for us. Jesus is praying for our unity and peace, that we may be one as Jesus and the Father and the Spirit are one.

Sometimes when we talk about unity, we think we’re talking about everyone being the same, everyone having the same ideas, everyone coming to the same conclusions. But I don’t think that unity is the same as uniformity. Jesus prayed that we would be one “as he is one with the Father.” In other words, our unity is to be like the unity of the Triune God.

Father, Son, and Holy Spirit… one God, three persons… three-in-one, one-in-three… a mysterious relationship of unity with diversity, of oneness with individual personalities, of common purpose with different gifts and roles.

Earlier this week, when we were studying this text together at our Session meeting, one person suggested that we need to find our unity in our common faith and our shared purpose: What about our mission statement? St. Andrew’s exists to proclaim the Gospel and to share in the love of God in our church and in our community.

The fact is, Jesus doesn’t pray that we will be one so that we will all feel good, or so that our churches will be pleasant and easy places to hang out. Jesus prays for our unity so that the world will believe that the Father sent him.

When we fight, either within our congregations or between our churches… when we insult each other, when we promote stereotypes and hold on to prejudices, when we engage in gossip behind each other’s backs… when we are rude, or cruel, or treat each other with disrespect because we disagree on some issues or ways of doing things… we fail to demonstrate and witness to the love, and grace, and forgiveness of God in Jesus Christ.

Jesus prays that we will be one, as he and the Father are one, so that the world will believe. Jesus prays for unity within our congregation, for unity within the Session, committees, and groups of our church, and between the Churches in our neighbourhood, our city, and indeed the whole world.

Jesus does not pray that all his followers will be the same as each other. But he prays that we will be one… one in purpose, one in following him and sharing his love, one in Christ so that the world will see us, and see Jesus in us, and experience God’s love through us.

And it’s going to take some work, and some patience, and some humility, and some love… but we can do it. Actually, God can do it. After all, Jesus is praying it for us.

How will this affect you?

1. Remember to make use of Sunday morning parking underground at the Radisson.
2. When you drop by the church during the week (daytime) be sure to park on the church side of the parking lot, as we may have the other side reserved for paid hotel parking.
3. On days/evenings when we require the use of the entire lot (i.e. Thursday Group, Women’s League meetings, Women’s League tea and bake sales, weddings, funerals, etc.) the hotel will not use our lot, and you will be able to park anywhere.
4. If you want to park at the church while you are downtown for another reason, make sure that you have a St. Andrew’s parking sticker visible in your windshield (get one for $2 from the church office), check with the church office to make sure it’s okay to park that day, and park on the church side of the lot.

The Spring Tea & Bake Sale – Saturday, April 27th from 2 – 4 p.m. Only $3.50 includes coffee or tea and dessert, as well as a great opportunity to pick up some delicious homemade baked goods, and to enjoy a time of fellowship with new and old friends.

Camp Sunday – Sunday, May 5th we will be sharing about and celebrating the ministry of Christian camping, with a special emphasis on our Church Camp, Camp Christopher. Wear your camp shirt to worship, and come join in singing some camp songs.

Pentecost Sunday and Holy Communion – Sunday, May 19th. We will gather to worship God and celebrate the gift of the Holy Spirit empowering the people of God to proclaim the Gospel in word and deed to the ends of the earth. Wear red this Sunday to celebrate the fire of the Holy Spirit in our church and in our lives.

St. Andrew’s Annual Program Meeting – Sunday, May 26th following the worship service. Come and learn about what we have been doing in our church over the last year as well as hear about the plans and goals of our committees and groups for next year.

“Shepherded Through the Ordeals”

John of Patmos, writing in the midst of exile and persecution because of his faith and his leadership in the early Christian Church, shares a vision he has of heaven – a vision of the kingdom of God when it comes. He sees a great multitude of people, more than he could count – people from every nation, tribe, and language standing together before the throne of God. And they are singing: “Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!”

Then a question is raised, “Who are all those people? Where have they come from?” And the answer is given: “These are the ones who have come out of the great ordeal… For this reason they are before the throne of God, and worship [God] day and night within his temple, and the one who is seated on the throne will shelter them. They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat, for the Lamb at the centre of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

Of course, the metaphor of God as the Shepherd of the people runs through most of our scripture readings today. God is the one who cares for us like we are precious sheep, guiding us through danger and providing for all our needs. But the phrase that stood out to me as I was reading the Revelation passage this week was, “These are the ones who have come out of the great ordeal.”

John’s words are usually interpreted as being about some kind of apocalyptic battle – the trouble and chaos of the world coming to an end before God’s kingdom is established as the new reality. But even if the world is not about to come to an end, “ordeal” is a pretty good word to describe what many people experienced this past week.

From the safety and security of Saskatoon, where our daily concerns may be as minor as the winter that won’t seem to end or the pot holes all over our roads, most of us probably joined our hearts with and offered our prayers for the marathon runners and spectators, the individuals and families that were hurt or killed, and the people of Boston in general as they endured the ordeal of the last week since the bombings that occurred on Monday afternoon.

Meanwhile, in West, Texas, another ordeal was just beginning. A fire at a fertilizer plant got out of control and there was a terrible explosion. With many homes, and a school, and a nursing home in the immediate vicinity, the human impact was huge. And the ordeal continues as there are still many people missing and unaccounted for, with the number of confirmed dead rising day by day.

I don’t know if anyone here today has been through an ordeal of the magnitude of the ones experienced by the people of Boston and West this week. I know that I haven’t. Nor have I had to deal with the kind of danger and persecution that John and his early Christian cohorts had to endure.

And yet, most of us can probably reflect on our own current or past experience and say that we know what it’s like to be in the midst of an ordeal. For some, it was the tragedy and trauma of the sudden death of someone we loved. For some, it is the agony of a chronic illness or a rapid decline in health and wellbeing. For others, the disappointing ending of a relationship or a painful divorce has been our ordeal. Or perhaps a terrible failure at work, or a sudden and life-altering loss of financial security has thrown our lives into turmoil.

For many people of faith, both Jewish and Christian, Psalm 23 has been a source of strength and encouragement in the midst of the great ordeals of our lives. I cannot count the number of times that this special psalm has been requested for funeral services, or the number of times that I have read it aloud to a grieving family or to a person in the midst of their dying.

A couple of years ago, in a short sermon series on the Psalms, I reflected on the psalms of trust with a special focus on Psalm 23. In that sermon, I shared about a story of tragedy and transformation that I had watched unfold on the medical drama “Grey’s Anatomy” that week. Although the show is obviously just fiction, it was a story that mirrored the ordeals that happen in real life, and I was encouraged by the opportunity to witness a transformation from fear to trust, from despair to hope, and from giving up to determination to work for the good of those who are suffering.

First of all, you need to know the background. During the previous season, the Seattle hospital and its employees had experienced a traumatic event. A grief-stricken man entered the hospital with a gun and terrorized the staff and patients, injuring many people and killing several as well. And many of the characters of the show had not been the same since. One surgeon was too scared to operate. Another continued to struggle with feelings of powerlessness when she was unable to save a patient. Still others were crippled by fear and the memories of that awful day.

Not everyone has experienced that kind of trauma in life, but most of us have seen it on TV. And not just on dramatic television programs… We’ve seen it on the news… from shootings in schools and churches to bombings in the streets or on the subways, from beheadings on buses to planes crashing into towers.

The events of this week remind us that it is true… These are things that really do happen in our world, sometimes even very close to home. And even if we know that the chance of our being directly affected by something like this is very low, we are affected because we now live in a culture that is deeply shaped by fear. (Perhaps not as strongly as in the US, but fear still has a huge impact on us.)

Beth LaNeel Tanner, in her book “The Psalms For Today” wonders when the US became a society based on fear. She writes, “It is easy to answer that 9/11 changed everything,” but she argues that we were being sold fear long before that fateful day.

“What happened to Roosevelt’s brave answer in his 1933 Inaugural Address, ‘The only thing we have to fear is fear itself’? We have become a society where fear sells everything from the latest weather forecast to new cars. Much of our economy is fuelled by tapping into our fears. If we own the right things, we can protect ourselves and our family from harm and that will make us happy.”

Though it may seem like there has been an increase in terrorism and fear over the last 10-20 years, Tanner points out that people have struggled with fear throughout history. She explains that “in ancient days the people not only believed in other gods, they also believed in magic and the ability of enemies to curse an opponent. This practice seems odd and superstitious to a modern reader. [But] to the ancient, an amulet was a powerful talisman against evil and the curse of another. A selected psalm or verses from several psalms were written and placed inside an amulet. They believed these amulets protected and surrounded the person with a constant prayer and acted as a shield from the evil in the world.”

Tanner does not suggest that we should write out psalms and wear them around our necks, but she suggests that reading, and reflecting on, and praying the psalms of trust may actually act as mental amulets against the negative messages of the society in which we live.

The ancient times, when these psalms were written and used, were also fearful times. Life was not easy. Starvation was a constant threat. Wars ravaged the nations again and again. Women and children had a very high mortality rate, and forty was considered old. The people who prayed these prayers may not have had twenty-four-hour news channels, but they knew life could be scary and violent.

In response to all the fears that surrounded them, they prayed and sang psalms that centre on trusting God instead of giving in to fear and violence. More than any other psalm, and perhaps more than any other text from the scriptures, Psalm 23 has provided comfort and encouragement, help and hope for people of faith throughout the centuries.

It’s not that the psalm magically erases our problems or frees us from the difficulties of life. It can’t do that. But it proclaims God’s loving, caring, guiding presence through all the circumstances of our lives, and it gives us words in which to express our hope and trust in that God.

If you read Psalm 23 carefully, you will notice three distinct scenes in the psalm. First, there is a field or meadow. It’s an open space with green grass and a quiet lake nearby. The shepherd God has led you to this place, and provided for your basic needs. Life is good. You can imagine the warmth of the sun, the taste of the cool, clean water, and the rest on the luscious grass.

But just as our lives are rarely all sunshine and roses, in the next scene of the psalm you find yourself in a dark valley. I imagine it something like that dark forest in the movie “The Princess Bride.” There are dangers lurking around every corner ready to attack. It’s frightening and awful, and you emerge from it with scars. But there’s no avoiding it either, if you’re going to get home.

But the point of the psalm is that the shepherd God is right there with you. “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. For you are with me, your rod and your staff they comfort me.”

I said that I witnessed a transformation on the show “Grey’s Anatomy”. When their hospital was attacked by a crazed man with a gun, many of the characters were paralyzed by fear. In the midst of that traumatic event, they felt alone, powerless, and vulnerable. It was like they were crawling through Death Valley, each one struggling alone through the darkness.

But then on a later episode (months later in the lives of the characters) another trauma takes place. A young man rages around his Seattle college campus shooting students until he is taken down by a police officer. Once again, the hospital staff are overwhelmed by victims of a horrific attack, and many of them seem on the edge of breaking down from the pressure and the memory of the earlier attack.

Of course, no one stops to read Psalm 23, and there’s only a passing reference to the presence of God. But there is a moment, in the middle of the crisis and chaos of tending to so many severely injured students… A few medical staff and a few family members of the patients stand on a walkway at the hospital and look out the large windows at a crowd gathered outside. The people are gathered in a massive vigil of support. They have candles in their hands, and they are singing the college’s song.

And the point is that the staff and families are not alone. They are not abandoned. They may be walking through Death Valley, but there is a rod and a staff to comfort them, and they will make it through. And they do.

The final scene in the psalm is in a house, in a dining room. I see it in my mind’s eye kind of like the dining room in the Harry Potter movies… with long wooden tables overflowing with platters of delicious food and jugs of wonderful drinks.

The host at the meal is that same shepherd God, and the Lord has given you a special invitation to the feast. Maybe it’s the heavenly banquet that awaits us in the next life.

Maybe it’s a hope and a promise for the future when God’s kingdom is finally complete. But I can’t help but notice the final line of the psalm: “And I will dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long.” I don’t think it’s an experience reserved for heaven. And it’s certainly not a special privilege meant for only a few special people. Even your enemies are there with you at the table, because God has the power to bring us all together.

Psalm 23 does not carry the magical power to remove us from danger or protect us against negative events. But it can help us to know and to trust and to believe that God is with us through all the circumstances of our lives.

We can give thanks to God for the green pastures and still waters. We can lean on God through the dark and dangerous valleys. And we can respond to the invitation of God to come to the table… to worship, to be fed, and to be a part of the family of God.

During this season of Easter, we are reminded again and again that after death there is resurrection, after illness there is healing, and after the small or the great ordeals of our lives, there is hope for the day when the Kingdom of God will be fulfilled. We look forward with hope and expectation for the day when we will be gathered together in peace and harmony with all God’s people from every nation, and tribe, and language… when we will be gathered around God’s throne, singing together in praise and thanksgiving to God who is our Shepherd and our Lord. Amen.

“Converted For Mission”

This week I was drawn into the story from the Book of Acts about Saul’s conversion to Christianity. Saul, the Pharisee, who was still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of Jesus, who was making plans to arrest any he found who belonged to the Way… Saul was going along and approaching Damascus, when suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard the voice of Jesus. And to make a long story short, he was converted from a persecutor of Christians to one of the most influential Apostles of Christ, who brought the Gospel to the Gentiles and recorded the Good News in writings and letters for generations to come.

Early in the week, I invited folks, with whom I shared the story, to think about their own stories of coming to faith in Jesus Christ. I wondered if some might have a story as dramatic as Saul’s experience. I remembered someone telling such a dramatic story many years ago when I was in university. I was at a Christian gathering on campus and there was a young man named Stephen telling his story of coming to faith, giving his testimony.

Stephen told us about the challenges of his childhood and teen years. His parents split up, and he was not a very happy child. He didn’t think that either of his parents really loved him, so he got into all kinds of rebellious activities, desperately trying to get their attention. He started drinking, and then doing drugs. He hung out with all kinds of seedy characters and had a lot of one-night stands. He dropped out of school, stayed out late every night, and slept during the daytime. When his mother tried to lay down the law, he moved out and crashed on an older friend’s couch.

On the night Stephen hit rock bottom, he got so drunk he could hardly see, and then he decided to go for a ride on a friend’s motorcycle. It’s a miracle that no one was killed, but Stephen ended up driving that bike through the plate glass window on the front of a department store. He survived the crash and was rushed to hospital where he spent many months recovering from broken bones, lacerations, and a huge loss of blood.

And that’s the night that his life changed, when he finally realized that it had to change or he was going to die. Everyone said that he should have been killed, that someone must have been taking care of him, and he realized that he was getting a second chance at life, another opportunity to do something with the gift that he had been given. A friend of his father’s came to visit him in the hospital and told him about Jesus, inviting him to turn his life over to God, and he did. He became a Christian, a follower of the Way, and eventually a person who was ready to share his faith, to tell his story, and to invite others to conversion as well.

During the fellowship time following Stephen’s testimony, I remember someone coming up to me and asking, “So, when did you become a Christian?” At first I was confused by the question because I didn’t remember “becoming” a Christian. I thought I’d always been one. While Stephen was doing drugs and living a wild life in high school, I was going to school, playing my French horn, and singing in the church choir. I didn’t have a dramatic story of conversion like Stephen or like Saul, and I couldn’t remember a time when I didn’t believe in God.

When I asked some members of our church community this week about their experiences of coming to faith, most of their stories were more like mine and less like Stephen’s. They spoke of families that went to church, said grace at mealtimes, and even if their Christian education was somewhat hit-and-miss, there was a foundation of faith laid in childhood – that God exists, and God is love, and God has come to us in Jesus Christ. At various times on their journeys, our church members had experienced times of particular closeness to God, times of recommitment to following the Way, and some had especially experienced the presence of God in the midst of challenges and crises.

But as they paused to remember their experiences of coming to faith, I heard a lot of gratefulness. Like Stephen, who was so thankful to God for a second chance and for the opportunity to turn his life around, I heard gratefulness from our church members for families, church communities, teachers and mentors who taught them about God and showed with their lives what it meant to live the way of Jesus.

This morning as we remember the conversion of Saul on the road to Damascus, I invite you to remember your own conversion… whether it was sudden and dramatic, or a slow and steady journey, whether you remember a moment when everything suddenly changed in your life, or you can’t keep track of all the moments of turning and returning to God who has been with you through your whole journey.

Just as Stephen remembered his father’s friend who first told him about Jesus during his long recovery in the hospital, I imagine Saul (or Paul) would always remember his experience on the road to Damascus and the disciple named Ananias who first prayed for him and shared his faith with him.

I know that I’ll always remember George who showed me what God was like in the way he loved and taught the children of my church when I was growing up. I’ll always remember Mike who prayed for me when I was going through a tough time as a teenager, and helped me to experience the comforting presence of the Holy Spirit in my life. And I’ll always remember Pauline who listened to me sharing a reflection in my church community, and helped me to recognize what God was calling me to do with my life.

What about you? Who are the people that you will always remember? I invite you to remember them now, to give thanks to God for them and the difference they have made in your life, in your journey of faith…

You know, Ananias was pretty hesitant about the whole idea of going to find Saul. God told Ananias to go and find Saul, to lay hands on him, to pray for him, and to heal him of his blindness. But Ananias had heard all about this man, and he knew this would be a dangerous mission. Saul was an enemy of the earliest Christian community. Ananias had heard about all the evil that Saul had done against the saints in the Jerusalem, how he had authority from the chief priests to bind anyone who invoked the name of Jesus.

But God said, “I have chosen Saul. He is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel.” And that’s exactly what Saul (later Paul) went on to do. He was a leader, a teacher, a writer, and an encourager. He was an Apostle to the nations who had the most amazing impact on the early Christian Churches and on the Church through the centuries.

Ananias was probably surprised. Saul was probably even more surprised. But God is full of surprises… unlikely, outrageous, amazing things happen quite a lot when God is around… oppressed people are set free, rebellious people are forgiven and given another chance, sick people are made well, a boy’s lunch becomes a feast for thousands, and fishermen and tax collectors become preachers and healers. When God is around… angry people learn to love, people in conflict make peace with each other, excluded and forgotten people are welcomed and embraced, sad or lonely or discouraged people are lifted up by the joy of knowing God’s presence and love.

The Apostle Peter, of course, is another great example. He was an unlikely choice for a leader in the first place, but Jesus called the simple working man, Simon, to become the rock of his church. As Peter remembered his experience of coming to faith years later, we can imagine that he remembered the day Jesus showed up and caught all those fish. Simon was so astonished that he dropped his nets to follow the man he would soon declare to be the Messiah of God.

Although Peter’s faith seemed strong at first, he wasn’t as solid as a rock through the difficult journey of following Jesus through his betrayal, and arrest, and crucifixion by the Romans. In the midst of the crisis, Peter got scared and denied even knowing who Jesus was.

But the experience of conversion, the experience of turning towards God and changing the purpose and direction of our lives, is not something that happens only once for most of us. For Paul, there was that key moment on the road to Damascus when he was confronted with his own sin and pointed towards a new way of life. But for Peter the encounter with Jesus was repeated… another miraculous catch of fish, and another invitation to turn and follow Jesus with his life.

And I think that most of our faith journeys are like that. We can look back to remember and give thanks for moments of hearing God’s voice, of recognizing God’s presence, of beginning again and turning our lives more towards the way of Jesus. And we can look forward with hope and expectation because God will continue to come to us, to speak to us, to call us again and again to follow Jesus with our lives. No matter what mistakes we’ve made, no matter how many times we’ve drifted away, or denied our faith, or failed to follow through.

“Do you love me?” Jesus asks you again today.

“Yes? Then feed my lambs.” Do what I did. Share my love. Care for my children. Spread my Gospel.

“Do you love me?” Jesus asks you again.

“Yes? Then tend my sheep.” Look out for the lost ones. Pay special attention to the poor ones and the weak ones. Be a good shepherd like me, one who cares more about the sheep than about himself.

“Do you love me?” Jesus asks a third time.

“Yes?” Don’t be upset that Jesus asks it a third time. Jesus will ask you again and again… inviting you again and again to declare your love not only with your words, with your “yes,” but with your life, with what you do and say and what you decide.

“Do you love me?” Jesus asks, “Then feed my sheep. Follow me.”

“Not the End of the Story”

Welcome to the second Sunday in the Season of Easter. I don’t know about you, but it kind of feels like a low Sunday to me. The church isn’t as full as it was last week, and the energy level and anticipation isn’t quite as high either. Someone said that there was something pretty special about the experience of coming in to church last Sunday. Everyone was so joyful and upbeat. It was definitely a day of celebration as we sang the songs of Easter and proclaimed the resurrection of Christ Jesus, our Lord.

But when the Easter weekend came to an end, many of us went back to the grind of work on Monday or Tuesday. We came face to face with exam time looming, or a house in need of a good Spring cleaning, or the challenges of health issues, or a strained relationship in need of repair, or the stress of tax time and worry about how to make the payments, or just the news from the world this week that some young Canadian men have become terrorists, that there was a shooting in a Gatineau daycare, that all is not yet right in the world.

Lauren Winner, reflecting on the day of her baptism as a young adult, remembers a typo in the Communion prayer response: It said, “Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ has come again.” (Instead of Christ WILL come again. It said Christ HAS come again.) As a new Christian, she wondered at first if she had missed something crucial. Had Christ indeed come again? But looking around at the world in which she lived (in which we live) it was obvious that we are still waiting for the return of Christ, for the fulfillment of God’s promises, for the Reign of God to arrive in its fullness.

Lauren reflected: “Every day brings reminders that the promises of Easter are not yet fully realized. You pick up the newspaper and read about the war your country started. You are beckoned to the funeral of a friend’s child. The fight you have been having with your sister for seventeen years keeps on going. I think about this every year at Eastertide. Looking around church, I see these faithful people of God proclaiming Alleluia! – proclaiming that Christ is risen indeed!” As they move from Good Friday to Easter Sunday… “I see them genuinely celebrating, even if their lives are falling apart.”

I have to say that I didn’t have a great week this past week. After the joy of our Easter celebration, the next few days seemed to be filled with one blow after another. By Wednesday morning, all my energy was spent, and I felt wounded and abandoned. As I looked ahead to this morning’s service, as a preacher must do, I longed for a psalm of lament instead of the psalm of praise and thanksgiving that was set for this second Sunday of Easter. I didn’t want to preach about joy today because I just wasn’t feeling it.

Christ is risen! And yet the world is full of hatred and violence and lies. Christ is risen! And yet the people of God continue to hurt one another with their prejudice, and their assumptions, and their selfishness. Christ is risen! I know it in my head. I have proclaimed it with my mouth. And yet, at times, I feel like the disciples on the road to Emmaus before they recognize Jesus. I feel defeated.

But this week, in the midst of my own particular challenges, the lectionary invited me to meet the risen Jesus as he stood among his first disciples in a locked-up house in Jerusalem. With my stomach churning from the stress, and my mind rushing with too many thoughts to organize, I heard Jesus say to me: “Peace be with you.”

And then he reached out and showed me his hands and his side. In my mind’s eye I touched the deep wounds and felt the scarred flesh that was left at the end of his ordeal. I put out my hand and found the place where the spear had pierced his side. Like Thomas, I could feel that the wounds were there and the wounds were real. But mostly I could feel that the wounds were also healed, and Jesus was standing there full of life and breath with a message of peace on his lips.

When I’ve thought about doubting Thomas in the past, I’ve often thought about the fact that he seemed to need some proof to know that Jesus was actually raised from the dead. I’ve thought about how difficult it can be for us today to believe that Jesus was raised, and the fact that the physical proof – the ability to reach out and touch Jesus’ wounds simply isn’t available to us. “Blessed are [we] who have not seen, and yet have come to believe.”

But this week I became very aware that believing in Jesus’ resurrection is not the hard part, and it’s not even the most important part. What is most important is that we come to believe – in the midst of our own suffering, our own trials, our own difficulties and challenges – that healing and peace and wholeness are possible for us. Indeed, that they are guaranteed.

I have to believe that my wounds will heal. We have to believe that no matter what difficulties and sufferings we experience in this life, that the end of the story is resurrection and life and joy. We have to be able to look around at the troubles in our world and proclaim with hope that “Christ WILL come again” and the Reign of God will come.

Last weekend, between our gathering on Good Friday and our Easter Sunday celebration, I led a memorial service on Saturday for Helen Wrigley Carson who was a member of this congregation for over 50 years and served as an elder here for nearly 20 years. The service was kept small and private with just the family in attendance, but Helen’s wide circle of friends and her sisters and brothers in Christ here at St. Andrew’s are also missing her and mourning her death.

When I was reflecting on Helen’s life and witness and on the scripture readings that she selected for the service I wrote the following: “Some people are happy and joyful because their lives have been easy, and good things have come their way. But Helen’s was a deeper joy – a joy that arose from her faith and the assurance she had that she belonged to God and was in God’s hands no matter what her circumstances.

“Helen knew the challenges of working and raising a family, and she experienced the grief of losing her dear husband, Gordon, and then her son Victor much too soon. And although her second husband, Doug, died just a short time ago after Helen did, she lost him too to the terrible disease of Alzheimer’s that slowly took him from her even before he died. I know that in recent years Helen also struggled with her daughter’s health issues. She longed to do more to be helpful, felt frustrated and helpless at times, and she talked to God about it a lot.

“I know that Helen wondered about the bad things that happen to good people, and like the rest of us, she didn’t have a good answer to that terrible question of “why?” But in the midst of the questions and the struggles, Helen held fast to her faith with passages like the one from Romans 8 to give her comfort and encouragement.

“She knew “that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” And instead of dwelling on the bad, or getting stuck in the challenges and disappointments, Helen just kept on responding to God’s call and God’s purpose for her life. She kept on loving. She kept on serving. She kept on offering hospitality and friendship and joy wherever she went.”

This morning I am very aware of the fact that what Helen Carson had was the gift of faith. It wasn’t a matter of working up the will to keep on believing in spite of the questions and the challenges and the suffering. It was faith that she had – a pure and wonderful gift from God. And with the gift of the Holy Spirit within her, she went out where Jesus sent her to love and serve others in his name.

Blessed was she who had not seen, who had not reached out to touch the healed wounds of Jesus, and yet had come to believe. Blessed was she who, through the gift of faith, knew deep within her that the suffering of the present moment was not the end of the story. Blessed was she who kept on loving, who kept on serving, who kept on going where Jesus sent her to go, trusting that healing and wholeness and joy would one day be hers.

Writing to the seven churches in Asia, John of Patmos wrote: “Grace to you and peace from him who is and who was and who is to come… and from Jesus Christ, the faithful witness, the firstborn from the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth.” Those early Christian Churches, and John himself, were experiencing trials and persecutions and suffering too – probably more than most of us can imagine. And so John wrote to them with a message of encouragement and hope. As Jesus greeted his first disciples saying, “Peace be with you,” John greeted the next generation of followers with “Grace to you and peace from him who is and who was and who is to come.”

When we proclaim the mystery of faith in our Communion prayers, we say “Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.” And though our Easter celebration is over, we have not yet reached the end of the story. We still endure the trials and sufferings of this life. We still await the healing and wholeness that will be ours.

With the gift of faith that comes from God alone, and the gift of the Holy Spirit to guide and strengthen us along the way, may our lives and our church live to proclaim and to enact the goodness of God in the world. And may we look with expectation for the day when Christ will come again, when every eye will see him, even those who pierced him, for so it is to be. Amen and amen.

“Choosing Servanthood”

Today is the Sunday with two names. It is Palm Sunday, as we remember Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem, riding on a donkey. And it is Passion Sunday, as we anticipate what will happen to Jesus when he arrives in Jerusalem – his final meal with his disciples, his agonizing prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane, his betrayal and arrest, his trial and torture, and his terrible execution on a Roman cross.

The lectionary provides us with two sets of scripture readings for today, inviting the preacher to choose how to focus the service, and I have chosen the Gospel reading from the liturgy of the Palms, and the other readings from the liturgy of the Passion. The Gospel reading that I’m skipping today is the long account of what happens to Jesus in Jerusalem. We’ll come back to it, of course, on Thursday evening when we gather at Calvin Goforth for the Maundy Thursday service, and on Friday morning when we gather here to mark Good Friday.

But this morning, instead of simply recounting the story of Jesus’ passion, a story that most of us know quite well, I’d like to focus on the other readings that are set for Passion Sunday, and spend some time thinking theologically about Jesus’ suffering and death.

From the prophet 2nd Isaiah, Dineke read to us about the Suffering Servant. In these few short verses, Isaiah talks about the challenging vocation that he is called to. He says that God has given him “the tongue of a teacher, that I may know how to sustain the weary with a word.” Every morning, the prophet hears God speaking to him, teaching him, and every day the prophet shares what he is hearing, what he is learning from God.

The implied temptation for Isaiah is to remain silent. He has heard something from God, but he could just keep it to himself. After all, the messages God send him tend to get him in trouble when he shares them. Like other prophets before him, Isaiah risks his life every time he claims to “proclaim the Word of the Lord.” But as he explains in verse 5, “The Lord God has opened [his] ear, and [he] was not rebellious, [he] did not turn backward.”

Unlike the disciples of Jesus who began Holy Week with shouts of praise, and then quickly shut their mouths and ran away when things started to get dangerous for Jesus and for them, 2nd Isaiah demonstrates steadfast faithfulness in the face of adversity. He writes: “I gave my back to those who struck me, and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard; I did not hide my face from insult and spitting.”

Writing to the People of Israel near the end of the long and difficult exile in Babylon, Isaiah is demonstrating and teaching from his own experience what it means to hold on and remain faithful to God. The exiles are weary and tired of their long suffering in Babylon. Isaiah is probably weary as well, but he’s holding on, and he hopes that the People can hold on a little longer also.

What gives him hope and help in the midst of trouble and persecution is the knowledge that God is with him. He proclaims, “The Lord God helps me; therefore I have not been disgraced.” And God’s presence empowers him to remain steadfast in the face of his enemies. “I have set my face like flint,” Isaiah says with determination, “and I know that I shall not be put to shame.”

As Christians today, when we read in Isaiah about the Suffering Servant, we find a pretty good description of our Lord Jesus, especially during the last week of his life on earth. Much like the prophets before him, Jesus had a special vocation, a special calling from God. Jesus listened for God’s voice, and God spoke to him and led him through his life and ministry.

There were many times along the way when Jesus might have hesitated to do or to say the things that God was leading him to do and say. The risks were significant, especially when powerful leaders began to oppose him. But Jesus was not rebellious. He didn’t turn backward, but kept moving steadily towards Jerusalem and the completion of his mission, no matter what opposition he was going to encounter.

Michael Williams, in a pastoral reflection on this text, notices something else that Jesus and Isaiah’s Suffering Servant have in common. It’s the fact that they have a vocation of servanthood. He points out that servanthood and servitude are not the same thing: “Servanthood is an offering of service to others as a result of a choice made by the one providing the service. Servitude is service of others that is enforced by either custom or coercion.”

Neither the Suffering Servant nor Jesus becomes a slave to his enemies. These men are not disgraced or put to shame by adversaries that conquer them. Instead, they willingly become servants. They freely choose to act for the benefit of others, even for the benefit of the enemies themselves.

In a poetic section of Paul’s letter to the Philippians (a piece that may have been an early Christian hymn) there is a similar description of Jesus’ willing choice to become a servant: “Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross.”

But Paul doesn’t just quote the hymn in order to provide some theological insight about Jesus. And I am not preaching this sermon only for the sake of reflecting on Isaiah’s Suffering Servant and the servanthood of Christ. Because Paul introduces his description of Jesus with a very important line. He writes, “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.”

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus… when he humbled himself and lived as a servant… when he listened for God’s leading and followed no matter the cost… when he kept on loving humanity even though we were abandoning, rejecting, and betraying him… when he placed his trust in God to help him through the most challenging days of his life.

Let the same mind, the same attitude, the same way of thinking be in us that was in Christ Jesus. We should be humble. We should choose to live as servants of God and servants of one another. We should be determined in our purpose and not allow ourselves to be redirected by the lures of wealth or comfort or security. We should be careful not to follow the path of Jesus’ earliest disciples through Holy Week, but we should strive to follow Jesus himself all the way to the cross.

As you make the journey through Holy Week, I invite you to take the journey slowly with Jesus, resisting the temptation to look ahead to Sunday morning and the resurrection victory. And along the way, I invite you to consider how you, as an individual, and we, as a church, are called to a life of servanthood. In what ways are we called to humble ourselves, and to live for others, and to love without counting the cost or measuring the appreciation and thanks that we may or may not receive.

Like Isaiah’s Suffering Servant, who proclaimed that with God’s help he would never be disgraced, and like Jesus, who from the cross confidently prayed, “Father, into your hands I commend my Spirit,” may we know that we are never alone. God is our help and our strength and our hope as we choose today and tomorrow to follow the way of Jesus. Thanks be to God.

Holy Week is a special time of worship, reflection, and celebration in the church. Please join your Presbyterian family for worship this week.

□       On Sunday, March 24^th Holy Week begins with Palm Sunday. We will gather at St. Andrew’s for worship at 11:00 am, remembering Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem and joining with the crowds in singing “Hosanna” and hailing him as King. The children of the Church School have prepared some special music to share, and we have some special guest musicians (Horn players!)

□        On Thursday, March 28^th we will gather at Calvin Goforth Church (1602 Sommerfeld Ave.) at 7:00 pm to share a worship experience as we celebrate Maundy Thursday, remembering Jesus’ last supper with his disciples. The service will include the celebration of the Lord’s Supper. Bring a pair of NEW SOCKS to donate to the Saskatoon Native Circle Ministry.

□        On Good Friday March 29^th we will gather at St. Andrew’s to remember the day that our Lord Jesus was crucified, died, and was buried. We worship together at 10:30 am, followed by a time of fellowship.

□        On Easter Sunday, March 31^st we will gather at St. Andrew’s for a celebration of the resurrection at 11:00 am. The service will include the joyful feast of the people of God: Holy Communion.

“Costly Love”

You know, the choir has been practicing for weeks now for this special anthem for Easter Sunday. We’ve still got a couple more practices on it, and many of us are practicing our parts at home too. When Easter Sunday comes, it’ll take us about three minutes to sing it and then it will be over. What a waste!

And what do you think about those grandmothers… the ones who spend all day shopping, and preparing, and cooking a fabulous meal for their kids and grandkids? Everyone shows up to the house at 5:30 on Sunday evening, and by 6:30 it’s all gone. Not a scrap left when the grandsons get up from the table. What a waste!

Or think about all the planning and expense that goes towards sending a youth group on a mission trip… the fundraising, the organizing, the preparing, the packing. All that work, all that effort… and five days or ten days or two weeks later it’s all over and they’re back home again. What a waste!

And then there’s Mary of Bethany… working, and saving, choosing the perfume and buying it with practically a year’s worth of wages. Yes, she could have used that money to help the poor instead. She could have bought an awful lot of bread with 300 denarii. But instead she “took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.” And Judas said, “What a waste!”

What Judas didn’t understand, what Mary had figured out before the rest of Jesus’ disciples, was that love is costly. If you’re going to do something loving for someone else, if you’re going to do something important that makes a difference, it’s going to cost you something. It’s going to cost you a lot.

Mary would say that the three minutes of beautiful soaring music for the glory of God on Easter Sunday is worth the practice. Mary would say that the grandkids’ full bellies, and the parents’ night of not having to cook, and the love shared through the practical gift of providing a good meal was well worth the day of shopping and prepping and cooking that the grandmother did. Mary would say that the blessing and transformation experienced by both the youth and the people they went to serve was well worth the planning and expense that went into the mission trip. And Mary would say that she did not regret the 300 denarii worth of perfumed oil that she poured over Jesus’ feet because she loved him even more than 300 denarii worth of love.

In a world in which everything is speeding up, in which comfort and convenience are such high values, it may be hard to get our heads around the idea that love is costly. But as much as we may be tempted to choose the easy way much of the time, most of us know deep down that truly loving another person is costly. Those of you who have been married, those of you who have raised children, those of you who have cared for an aging parent or spouse, or been the best friend of someone who needed special care… you all know that loving another person is costly.

After preaching countless sermons on 1 Corinthians 13, I don’t know how many times I have pointed out that love is not that nice, fluttering feeling you get when your lover is near. Love is actually a lot of work. It’s a lot of work to be patient, and kind, to avoid being envious, or arrogant, or rude, as Paul describes love in his letter to the Corinthians. It’s not that love doesn’t feel good. It often does, whether we are the recipient of the love or the one offering love. But it takes a lot of energy, and commitment, and determination to love. Love is costly.

Of course, Jesus had been talking about the fact that he was going to be arrested and killed, but most of his disciples didn’t seem to understand what he was telling them. Mary, on the other hand, seemed to know that she wouldn’t have too many more opportunities to care for Jesus in the way that he deserved.

Maybe if she was expecting to have Jesus over for Sunday dinner every week for the next thirty years she would have used just a little perfume on his feet that evening, but she seemed to know that this would be her last chance to pour out her love, so she poured out the whole bottle.

And just as Mary knelt down that evening to pour oil on Jesus’ feet and to wipe them with her hair, in just a few days Jesus would be the one to drop to his knees to wash the feet of all his disciples. As Mary loved Jesus, Jesus loved all his disciples, and he told them, “Just as I have washed your feet, you ought to wash one another’s feet. Just as I have loved you, you should love one another.”

Jesus didn’t fool them into thinking that loving one another was going to be easy. He was honest about it. Love would be hard work. It would give them sore knees, and tired backs, and dirty hands. Love was going to be costly.

But that’s what Jesus’ way was all about. Jesus loved the world so much… Jesus loved us so much that he not only got down on his knees to wash our dirty feet, but he gave his whole life so that we would experience God’s love. He gave up the normal life of a first century man… work, family, stability, predictability… in order to fulfill God’s mission in the world. He preached, he healed, he travelled, at times he had nowhere to lay his head. He was challenged and harassed, arrested and mocked, and put to death… all so that we might experience God’s unconditional, faithful, and costly love for us.

Some people looked at Jesus’ life and scoffed at him, “What a waste… he was doing so many good and helpful things, and now he’s dead and gone. What a waste.” But we know that it’s not true. Jesus’ life and his death were not wasted, because by his death and resurrection he has transformed our lives. He has transformed billions of lives. And because of him we know that love is costly, and we hear his call again and again to love one another as he has loved us.

Christian discipleship and the call to costly love are not easy. Even the strongest and the holiest among us find it difficult. But with the apostle Paul, we pray: “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already obtained this or have already reached the goal; but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Beloved, I do not consider that I have made it my own; but this one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on towards the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.”

May we spend our lives learning to love one another as Jesus has loved us, and may we know that it is not a waste.

“Stop! Drink water.”

There was a cartoon circulating on email a couple of weeks ago. The scene was the Vatican, and the speech bubble was of someone inside responding in surprise to Pope Benedict’s announcement of his resignation: “You’re giving up WHAT for Lent?”

There is a tradition of Christians giving something up during Lent. We might give up some indulgence that we don’t really need. We might fast on a certain day of the week or forego eating meat, as a way of disciplining ourselves and turning our attention towards God.

Others have changed up the tradition a little by talking about taking something on during Lent. They try to add something to their daily or weekly routine… making sure they come to worship every week, adding daily prayer to their schedule, spending some intentional time in service to the poor or the lonely or the sick.

Around St. Andrew’s this year, we’ve had a few invitations to take something on during Lent. I handed copies of a devotional booklet that I called “A Time to Pray,” and offered a Wednesday evening bible study on the appropriately Lenten topic of forgiveness.

The Stewardship Committee invited us all to gather our coins for a special offering to PWS&D, and they called us to pay attention to our stewardship of time during Lent with a survey and a time log, along with some thoughtful questions to help us evaluate our use of time and make some changes in our lives.

Of course, no one is expected to take on all of these Lenten possibilities, but hopefully most of us have decided to take on something – to mark this season by changing something in our lives, by doing something different in order to draw close to God once again.

Jesus’ parable of the fig tree reminds us that God has very clear intentions for our lives. Every one of our lives will look different. We’ll have different work to do, different relationships and different daily activities, but all our lives have the same purpose, the same goal… which is to produce fruit… to bring love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, and generosity into the world.

In one of the prayers that we usually pray at memorial services, there is a prayer of thanksgiving to God “for all the good that entered the world through this person.” That’s the fruit that God intends our lives to produce. And we don’t want to wait until our lives are over to start paying attention to the fruit, noticing whether there is any fruit growing, and changing our lives to let God produce some good fruit through us.

On Wednesday evening we were reading about King David when he got off track and got into a spiral of sin. You may remember the dramatic story in 2nd Samuel where David sleeps with another man’s wife and gets her pregnant. He then tries in a variety of ways to hide what he’s done, and when he’s unsuccessful, he arranges to have the husband killed in battle and then he takes the woman for himself.

In our discussion, we started talking about whether David knew what he was doing was wrong. He must have known, right? I mean, it was adultery, followed by deception, followed by murder? How could he not have known it was wrong? So why didn’t he just stop? What was he thinking?

And I suddenly noticed that there was no commentary in the story about what David was thinking or why he was doing the wrong things that he was doing. Was he deluded into thinking that it was okay to do those things? Was he justifying his behaviour somehow? Or was he just being selfish? The text does not say.

But then I realized that the problem may have been that David just simply wasn’t thinking about what he was doing. He wasn’t reflecting on his experiences or his choices. He wasn’t pausing to ask what God would have him do in his situation.

A quote attributed to the ancient philosopher Socrates came to mind: “The unexamined life is not worth living for a human being.”

Learning from King David’s mistakes and his unexamined life, we tried out a couple of practices of self-examination. Some of us tried out the “examination of conscience,” asking the Holy Spirit to help us look at ourselves clearly and see the ways in which we have missed the mark or moved away from God’s loving purpose for us. Others in the group tried out “an examination of consciousness” – a practice of reviewing our day in order to see where God has been present and at work in us, around us, and through us.

The practice begins by acknowledging with gratitude that God knows you through and through, God loves you, and God waits eagerly to summon out what you will become. In a sense, it’s like we begin by remembering that we are fig trees. When the examination begins, even if all we find on our branches is leaves or maybe some shrivelled up figs, God loves us and forgives us, and God is ready to work on us like a determined and faithful gardener to help us to produce good fruit.

The next step is to ask the Holy Spirit to help you to review with clarity the past 24 hours or so. Thinking back through the hours and activities of the last day, you are invited to identify two or three instances when God’s grace becomes apparent to you. Were you aware of it at the time? And how did you respond? If you recognized and responded in a way fitting the Christian life, give thanks! If you were unaware of divine presence or resistant to God’s love, confess and seek to become more aware and more responsive in the future. Finally, you are invited to write a psalm-prayer of praise, confession, and gratitude as it arises from your experience of self-examination.

Ignatius of Loyola was probably the first to recommend the Daily Examen – the regular spiritual practice of reviewing the day in order to pay attention to God’s presence and seek to follow God more closely every day. Christians who practice the Daily Examen or other similar spiritual practices during Lent or throughout the year find that they draw closer and closer to God, and they are equipped to bear good fruit.

You see, bearing fruit in our lives, bringing good into the world, is not something that arises from our own sheer effort or determination. It is a matter of allowing God to work on us and within us and through us…. digging around us, pouring water on us, shining sunlight on us, and even fertilizing us with manure. That’s how we are equipped to bear good fruit.

Daniel Debevoise, in a pastoral reflection on Isaiah 55, asks, “How thirsty are you?” He explains, “In my home climate of central Florida during the summer, when the humidity is so intense that you step outside and immediately begin to perspire, you know when you are thirsty. You are thirsty all the time! You know your body is dehydrated because you literally see all the liquid leaving it, droplets of perspiration soaking your shirt, dripping off your arms, and running down your forehead. Even if you do not feel thirsty, you know you are thirsty. You drink water before you go outside to exercise. ‘Everyone who thirsts’ – that is me and everybody else – ‘come to the waters.’

“In the southwestern United States, where the humidity is low, you may be thirsty and not even know it. Your perspiration evaporates so quickly that you do not realize you are becoming dehydrated. So whether you feel thirsty or not, you drink a little water as often as you can. In Grand Canyon National Park there are signs strategically placed along the trails that remind you to stop and drink water. ‘Stop! Drink water. You are thirsty, whether you realize it or not.’

“How could it be that we do not recognize our own thirst? There are times when we are intensely aware of our needs and desires, including the things we thirst for, and other times when we do not feel the need or desire for anything in particular. Isaiah’s words are like the sign in a dry climate – ‘Stop! Drink water. You are thirsty, whether you realize it or not.’ We need to hear and respond to Isaiah, but not on the basis of what we may feel about ourselves at any particular moment. Isaiah is telling us something true about ourselves at every moment of our lives.”

Not long ago, I was talking with one of our worshippers, someone who used to attend another Christian Church in which they celebrate Holy Communion every Sunday. I was explaining the pattern of our Communion services here at St. Andrew’s, and I asked him, “Do you miss having Communion every Sunday?” He thought about it for a moment, and then he said, “I don’t notice myself missing it week by week. But then when I do receive Communion I notice how much I was longing for it, how much I needed it.”

At the beginning of Lent we are reminded of the 40 days that Jesus spent in the wilderness, of the 40 years that the Israelites spent wandering through the desert. Some of us may have chosen to give something up or to take something on during these 40 days in order to draw close to God. But today’s text from the prophet Isaiah reminds us that all that God requires is that we respond to God’s open invitation. Come drink, come eat, come feed on the goodness of God and let God transform your life until you produce good fruit.

In our prayer of confession this morning we prayed: “Be patient, O God, as we amend who we are, in the hope of becoming who you intend us to be.” We can be thankful today because God is ever-patient with us. And we can be hopeful today because it’s not just up to us to amend our lives. God is working on us, and God is feeding us with what we need to produce good fruit.

If you give something up during this season, may you give up spending your money, your time, and your energy on activities and pursuits and material things that do not satisfy. And if you take something up during this season, may you take up the invitation of God to come and drink deeply from the water of God’s Holy Spirit. And with God’s help, may your life produce abundant good fruit. Thanks be to God for the good that is entering the world through you. Amen.

• Set aside some time to read scripture and pray each day during Lent. With the children of our church school consider praying the Lord’s Prayer every day, or ask Rev. Amanda for a copy of the Lenten devotional booklet “A Time to Pray” either by email or in print. Or if you would rather pray with others, come to the Prayer Group gatherings on Friday March 8th and Friday March 22nd at 11 am.

• Pick up a coin jar from the church or use another container to gather your loose change throughout the Season of Lent. Bring in your jar of coins (or write a cheque) to support Presbyterian World Service and Development. Read more about the projects supported through our Lenten appeal in the February newsletter.

• Join us at the church on Wednesday evenings at 7 pm during Lent for a bible study on “Learning Forgiveness.” We meet in the parlour for this experience including scripture study, discussion, and reflection through journalling.

Also take note of these special events and worship opportunities in the month of March:

• Friday, March 1st, 2:00 pm. Everyone is invited to the World Day of Prayer service at Knox United Church. The service this year was prepared by Christian women in France.
• Sunday, March 3rd, following worship. Please plan to stay for lunch served by the Youth Group and the Annual Financial Meeting. Copies of the 2012 Financial Reports are available from the church office.
• Sunday, March 24th is Palm Sunday. Join us for this day of celebration including special music by the children of our church school.
• Thursday, March 28th, 7 pm. We will gather for a Maundy Thursday worship service at Calvin Goforth Presbyterian Church (Sommerfeld Ave. @ 3rd Street).
• Friday, March 29th, 10:30 am. We will host the Good Friday worship service at St. Andrew’s.
• Saturday, March 30th, 8:30 am. All women are invited to the Women’s Breakfast at Mulberry’s on 3rd Avenue.
• Sunday, March 31st, 11 am. We will celebrate the resurrection of Christ on this Easter Sunday and share in the Sacrament of Holy Communion.

“Take Courage!”

What does it take to be a Christian? Some might say that Christians need to be loving and kind. Some might say that Christians need to be open and friendly. Some might say that Christians just need to have the faith to believe. But our scripture passages today suggest that the most important characteristic of a Christian is courage.

When God is speaking to his people in the Bible, it’s not unusual for God’s introductory words to be “Be not afraid.” I suppose that standing face to face with God, or even just hearing God’s voice speaking to you directly was perhaps a rather scary experience. But I think that, more generally, God was often calling his people to do some rather risky and scary stuff. They had good reason to be feeling nervous or afraid.

In the case of Abram, whom we read about this morning, God has led him away from his homeland and sent him on a journey towards a new place to found a new nation. God has promised him good land, and many descendants, and God’s own blessing. But at this point in the story, Abram is starting to get worried. He hasn’t even had a child yet, let alone a son to continue his family line. And why should Abram believe that the land that he had come to would be his? Others might come and try to take it from him. Without a family and a nation to follow him, how would the land be protected?

And so God says, “Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great.” Yes, you will have descendants… as many as the stars in the sky. Yes, you will have the land… you and your descendants will live here in safety… I make that promise, that covenant with you today. And Abram believed God, and he was filled with courage, and eventually the promises were fulfilled.

In New Testament times, the followers of God needed courage also. The Apostle Paul, writing from his prison cell, encourages the Christians at Philippi to follow his example – an example of courage. He warns them that many people live as enemies of the cross of Christ. If that were not the case, Paul probably wouldn’t have been thrown in prison for preaching and teaching about Jesus.

But Paul encourages his Christian friends not to be discouraged. The threat of these enemies is real and dangerous, but the victory will go to those who set their minds of heavenly things and who seek to follow Jesus Christ. The enemies of Paul and the Christians may have a lot of earthly power… the power to throw the Christians in jail, the power even to have them killed… but the final victory will be God’s victory.

No matter what may happen to the Christians during their earthly lives… whatever humiliations they may suffer, whatever pain they may endure… their final destination will be heaven. Their Saviour, Jesus Christ, has prepared a place for them. As Paul wrote, “our citizenship is in heaven,” and this assurance is what gives them the courage to “stand firm in the Lord.”

The early Christians, like Paul, who suffered so much hardship and persecution for their faith, must have taken every opportunity to gather for worship and prayer, to sing the psalms and to grab a hold of the courage they needed to keep on following the difficult way of Christ. With the author of Psalm 27, they would have repeated: “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? When evildoers assail me to devour my flesh – my adversaries and foes – they shall stumble and fall… [God] will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble… Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!”

I think it’s fair to say that Christians in Canada today don’t experience much in the way of persecution for our faith. Our society has become a culture of tolerance in which people are free to believe whatever we want to believe. We can say “Jesus is Lord” or “Merry Christmas” or whatever we want really, as long as our beliefs and our proclamations don’t impinge on the freedom of anyone else believing and proclaiming their own religious convictions or lack thereof.

But the problem is that our Christian faith is not just about believing certain things. It’s not just about the faith that we have that there is a God, and that God loves us, that we have experienced God’s presence in Jesus Christ, and that Christ has given us the promise and assurance of everlasting life through God’s amazing grace. But indeed, our faith calls us to change the way we live, to change our relationships with our neighbours, and even to change – to transform – the society and the world in which we live. And that is, I think, where we need to stand firm with the courage of God.

I was reminded this week about a good example from American history: On December 1, 1955, an African-American department store worker was asked to give up her seat on a bus in Montgomery, Alabama, so that a white person could have her seat. She refused. When the driver asked why she didn’t move, Rosa Parks simply replied: “I don’t think I should have to stand up.” The bus driver called the police and an officer responded. As she was led away to jail, Ms. Parks asked the officer: “Why do you push us around?” Her arrest sparked a bus boycott organized by a 26-year-old named Martin Luther King Jr. Within a year, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that Alabama’s state and local laws establishing segregation on buses were unconstitutional.

I had the opportunity to begin reflecting on this morning’s scripture texts a few weeks ago when I was invited to write a short reflection for the KAIROS website. As many of you know, KAIROS is our Canadian Ecumenical organization for social justice work. Let me remind you of the mission statement of KAIROS:

In a time such as ours…
KAIROS unites Canadian churches and religious organizations in a faithful ecumenical response to the call to “do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6:8). Informed by biblical teaching, KAIROS deliberates on issues of common concern, striving to be a prophetic voice in the public sphere. Inspired by a vision of God’s compassionate justice, KAIROS advocates for social change, amplifying and strengthening the public witness of its members. Responding to Christ by engaging in social transformation, KAIROS empowers the people of God and is empowered by them to live out our faith in action for justice and peace, joining with those of goodwill in Canada and around the world.

As I reflected on the lectionary texts for this Sunday, and as I thought about the call for Christians to work together for justice and peace for all the people of the earth, I realized that justice work is one area in which Christians and Churches truly need the courage that comes from God – not just to believe what Christians believe, but to live out our faith and transform the world into a place where the dignity of every person is protected and the earth itself is cherished and preserved.

When our faith moves beyond just our beliefs to a commitment to work for justice and peace, it’s then that we start to get into trouble with our neighbours because we’re calling for change. We’re calling for transformation in the lives of individuals and societies, in policies and practices. And the power structures of our world don’t often respond well to those kinds of calls.

In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus sounds frustrated to the point of giving up on Jerusalem. The Pharisees are hounding him again and warning him to stay away from the great city, and Jesus laments the lack of response – indeed, the evil response – of the people of Jerusalem to his prophetic message. He cries, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it!”

As Jesus’ ministry began, he preached in the synagogues of Judea and gathered disciples to learn from him and join in his work. He used his healing power to help rejected people, and called outsiders to be among his inner circle of followers. He taught that we must love our enemies, and demonstrated that love by helping foreigners and forgiving sinners. At times, Jesus’ message was rejected, but his mission grew and grew as he gathered more and more followers and sent them out to do the same.

But the opposition was great. Jesus’ ministry was impeded again and again by those who seemed to have the power and authority to put a stop to his progress. Just as Jesus prophesied that the day was coming when the first would be last and the last would be first, and the kingdom of God would be filled with outcasts and nobodies coming from east and west to share in the great feast, the authorities show up and attempt to put him off.

The Pharisees warn him: “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.” But Jesus cannot be stopped with death threats. He says to them, “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work.’” As frustrated as Jesus may be by the negative response of Jerusalem and the established powers, and as disappointed and heartbroken as he may be that some are not willing to be gathered into the household of God, he will continue his work.

There are demons to be cast out, cures to be performed, and children to be gathered today and tomorrow, and on the third day Jesus will finish his work. Did you notice the language there – “on the third day”? Jesus goes about the work of healing, helping, and gathering God’s children – enduring the challenges and taking the risks – with the sure and certain hope that in the end God will accomplish the final victory.

After my little reflection was posted on the KAIROS website, I received a nice email from Stephen Allen who works in the Justice Ministries department of the Presbyterian Church in Canada, and who represents the Presbyterians on the governing Board of KAIROS. Stephen said, “Your reflection gave me a lift.”

You see, people like Stephen and other Christians who work day in and day out in Justice Ministries can sometimes get frustrated and discouraged. They can get frustrated by the lack of response, by the barriers that they encounter, and by the outright opposition from governments, leaders, and people in positions of power. Sometimes they may also get frustrated because other Christians and Churches seem to be content to gather together to worship and to believe what we believe, and we do not respond as wholeheartedly as they would like to the call and commitment to justice and peace.

The Season of Lent is a time of turning and returning to God and to the way of Jesus that we are called to follow. As we continue to spend time in prayer and reflection this season, I pray that God will fill our hearts with the kind of longing that Jesus felt for all the people of Jerusalem, for all the people of the earth. For he lamented the injustice and the suffering and the evil that continued to rule in the world, and he “desired to gather [the] children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings.”

And when we meet with the challenges and obstacles that come with the risky work of seeking justice, may we receive the courage that comes from God and share in Jesus’ determination to continue the work of seeking justice today and tomorrow, trusting that on the third day God will finish the work. Amen.

“Making the Most of the Time”

When the letter to the Ephesians was written towards the end of the first century, both its author and the Christians who received it were expecting the end of the world to come quite soon. They expected that Christ would soon return, and the Kingdom of God would be inaugurated. It could be any day now, and many of them hoped it would be sooner rather than later. “But in the meantime,” the Christian leader explains, “there are ways you should be living… ways you should be spending your time… and other ways that you shouldn’t.”

“Be careful… how you live, not as unwise people but as wise, making the most of the time…” the letter encouraged them. “Try to find out what is pleasing to the Lord” and live accordingly. And if you’re not sure what is pleasing to God, here are some pointers: “Do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery; but be filled with the Spirit, as you sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, singing and making melody to the Lord in your hearts, giving thanks to God the Father at all times and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Our context today is somewhat different. Even as Christians, we do not live day-to-day with the expectation that Christ may return today or tomorrow. Although it is our Christian hope that Christ will one day return and set all things right, most of us don’t think about it too much, and we certainly don’t avoid making plans for the future because of that expectation.

The church budget line for “Pension and Benefits” is going up this year in all the Presbyterian Churches across the country because the Pension fund needs more income to make sure that there will still be some pension money available by the time ministers my age eventually retire.

Some of you here today are likely planning for your retirement too, even if it’s many years away, or you’re saving money for your children’s education, or looking ahead to your own career plans, or relationship plans, or even just a little ahead towards your summer vacation.

Most of the time we live as if we are quite sure that we’ll make it to the average life expectancy in Canada of somewhere around 80 or 85 years or even more. We live as if we have all the time in the world.

It sounds funny to say that… “We live as if we have all the time in the world”… because most of us find ourselves rushing from one activity to the next, cramming too many things into a day or a week, worrying about the things we are not getting done and the responsibilities that we are not fulfilling. We often feel like time is short… not enough time to get a good night’s rest, not enough time to spend with our families, not enough time to get everything done at work, not enough time to keep things in order around the house, not enough time to worship and work on our relationship with God.

We rush from one activity to the next, often complaining that we are short on time… but we continue to live as if we have all the time in the world because we put off the most important things as if these things can wait until tomorrow, or next week, or next year, or “when other things slow down a bit.”

When the author of the letter to the Ephesians wrote, “Be careful then how you live, not as unwise people but as wise, making the most of the time…” he was mostly encouraging the early Christians to spend their time doing good instead of getting into selfish and destructive activities. This text would be a good one for a preacher who wanted to warn Christians away from irresponsible drinking, indiscriminate sexual activity, and even the use of vulgar language.

As we begin this Season of Lent, we could commit ourselves to ridding our lives of the kinds of harmful and shameful activities that the author is talking about: “For once you were in darkness,” he writes, “but now in the Lord you are light. Live as children of light – for the fruit of the light is found in all that is good and right and true.”

But I think that, for most of us, the change that God is calling us to during this time of turning and returning to God, is not so much a ridding ourselves of evil activities, but a reordering of our lives to make the most of the time that we have been given. For some of us, it will mean working less so that we will have more time to spend with our families and loved ones. For some of us, it will mean playing less so that we will have more time to do our work. For some of us, it will mean choosing carefully between the many possible good activities and services we could be doing so that we will be able to do a few things well. And hopefully for all of us, it will mean a reordering of our lives in order to make time for worship, study, and prayer.

In Ephesians, we read the instruction “Try to find out what is pleasing to the Lord,” and the only way we are going to do that is by actually spending some time talking to and listening to God.

Just think of the example that Jesus gave us. As he travelled from town to town and synagogue to synagogue, there was much to be done. There were sermons to deliver, stories to tell, and crowds and crowds of people to heal and to help. Jesus certainly had a full schedule! But between the speaking engagements and the performing of miracles, Jesus spent good times with his friends, and he shared meals with his neighbours, and he reclined at the table and let others serve him. And not only that… but when the crowds were pressing in on him, and the needs of the people were nearly overwhelming him, he took himself away from the work and he took time to pray.

Lent is sometimes thought of as a time of guilt and sacrifice and hardship that religious people have imposed on them, or that we impose on ourselves. But I don’t think it needs to be like that. I really like the Stewardship Committee’s focus on the gift of TIME during this Season because it’s not about feeling guilty and it’s not about depriving ourselves of good things.

It’s about pausing to acknowledge that every second, every minute, every hour, and every day is a precious gift from God, and to take a good look at how we spend that amazing gift. The idea is not to be hard on ourselves for the ways we waste time with too much work, or too much play, or too much whatever… But the idea is to look at our use of time honestly and make some incremental changes, week by week by week, so that we can make the most of the time.

In the wisdom book of Ecclesiastes, we are reminded: “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.” This time, right now, we have set aside and dedicated to the worship of God. We have been attentive to God’s Word and considered what God is saying to us today.

So let us continue our worship, and prepare ourselves to gather at the Table of the Lord. God has blessed us with the gift of this time. May we experience God’s presence and God’s welcome in this time. Amen.

“Everything with Love”

We talk a lot about LOVE in the church. We read scripture about love:

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, God’s mercies never come to an end.” Lamentations 3:22

“Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love.” 1 John 4:7-8

“Your steadfast love, O Lord, extends to the heavens, your faithfulness to the clouds.” Psalm 36:5

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbour and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” Matthew 5:43-44

And we sing hymns about love:

“Love divine, all loves excelling,
joy of heaven, to earth come down.” BOP #371

“A new commandment I give unto you
that you love one another as I have loved you,
that you love one another as I have loved you.” BOP #225

“What wondrous love is this, O my soul, O my soul!
What wondrous love is this, O my soul!” BOP #242

“Jesu, Jesu, fill us with you love;
show us how to serve
the neighbours we have from you.” BOP #229

In our faith community, Sunday by Sunday and week by week, we gather to remind one another about the unconditional love that God has for each one of us, and we pray together that God will help us to love in the same way. And yet, it is so difficult to love.

Sure, there are some people that are easier to love. There are some people that we just seem to “click” with… people that we can talk to easily, people who always seem to understand because we’re on the same wave length. We work together harmoniously and enjoy spending time together because the relationship is easy. Misunderstandings are rare and the level of trust is high, and love comes naturally between us.

Maybe you can think of a few people in your life with whom you share that kind of relationship… perhaps a member of your family, maybe a co-worker, maybe a good friend or two. Those easy relationships are a wonderful gift… a gift for which we can give thanks to God.

But not all relationships come so easily. Some take a lot of work. Others are very difficult to maintain even with a lot of work. And being Christians doesn’t mean that those relationships will get easier. It just means that we’ll be reminded week by week of the challenging call that we have accepted, as followers of Jesus, to do our best to love as God in Christ has loved us.

As you consider your own relationships, there may be one or two that come to mind that are difficult… co-workers, or family members, neighbours or fellow church members with whom you find yourself in conflict, misunderstanding, power struggles, hurt feelings, or maybe you just get on each other’s nerves.

We’re not the first Christians to struggle with conflict and communication issues, and we won’t be the last either. Back in seminary I took a preaching course that was focussed on preaching from 1 Corinthians, and it was all about preaching to congregations in conflict.

You see, the Corinthian congregation was in conflict. They were a very diverse community living as Christians in a big city with people from many different religions and cultures. And they didn’t always agree with each other or get along with each other very well. In fact, the conflicts had become severe enough that the Apostle Paul hears about their troubles and writes to the community to try to guide and help them.

He writes: “Now I appeal to you, brothers and sisters, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you be in agreement and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and the same purpose. For it has been reported to me by Chloe’s people that there are quarrels among you, my brothers and sisters.”

A key point of division for the Corinthian Christians was around some of their members who could speak in tongues and others who couldn’t. One might think that those who had the gift of tongues could use it, and others could listen and contribute their own gifts to the worship, but it wasn’t as simple as that.

Those who had the gift were very proud of it, and they tended to look down on the others that didn’t have it. That may have led to the people without the gift deciding that speaking in tongues was a pretty silly thing to be doing. And you can see how the conflict would quickly escalate.

Well, I’m happy to say that we don’t have that problem here at St. Andrew’s. I don’t think any of us do much speaking in tongues! But we’re not completely conflict-free either. We’ve got a pretty diverse group of church members too. We’ve got people with different preferences and priorities. We’ve got lots of different committees and groups, lots of different ministries taking place in and through our congregation. And sometimes in this relatively small space, with all the different personalities, we don’t always get along perfectly either.

Most of the time, our issues arise from problems in communication. But then, once someone’s feelings have been hurt, the miscommunication can become a conflict, and the conflict can become a division, and the division can make every other issue, or project, or ministry difficult to do together because we don’t trust each other anymore.

When Paul writes to the Corinthian church about their problems, he uses the whole of chapter 12 to write about the variety of spiritual gifts that were represented in their community. And St. Andrew’s is blessed with a variety of gifts too. He reminds them that the great variety of gifts, and services, and activities all come from the same Spirit of God that has blessed the people with various gifts, just as the Spirit chooses.

And, of course, he uses the metaphor of the Church as the Body of Christ: “Just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ.”

And it’s not just that we should accept the fact that we are all different from each other. We could say that it would be NICE if we were all the same, but that’s just not the case, so we’ll have to live with our differences. But in fact, Paul is telling us that our differences and our different gifts and services and activities in the church are essential to the good functioning of the body of Christ. We need the eyes and the ears, the hands and the feet, and all the other parts. And we need them to work together in a somewhat coordinated effort.

After explaining the metaphor of the church as the body of Christ, and after encouraging the Corinthians to value and use the great variety of gifts, he ends the chapter by writing: “And I will show you a still more excellent way.”

If I preach from the pulpit with eloquence and insight every Sunday, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.

If we come to choir practice every week, and sing in perfect and glorious harmony, but do not have love, we are nothing.

If we prepare and serve up a wonderful lunch for a couple of hundred people after a funeral, but do not have love, we gain nothing.

If we share our gifts of teaching, or administration, or visiting, or welcoming, or caring for the church building, or giving financially to the mission and ministry of the church, but we do not do it with love, it means nothing.

“Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.”

Love is so hard, isn’t it? Is there any one of us who can listen to that description of love and not feel convicted of our failure to live up to such high demands?

Indeed, the only one who has fulfilled that amazing description of love is God in Jesus Christ, who has loved each one of us from before we were conceived and will keep on loving us to the end of time. God loves us patiently and with kindness. God bears with us and endures through all the ways we get off track. And I believe that God has hope for us that we can learn to love as Jesus loved… maybe not perfectly, but more and more each day.

Today, may we each know, deep in our hearts, that we are loved. And may that love give us the inspiration, the courage, and the humility to do everything we do, to offer every one of our gifts, with love. Amen.

“Gather Around God’s Word”

On Friday evening I attended the Ecumenical Jazz Service at St. Francis Xavier Parish. It was one of the special services planned for the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity here in Saskatoon. It was a lovely service, with musical leadership provided by an excellent jazz trio of piano, double bass, and drums. Under the leadership of Pastor David Hunter from Augustana Lutheran Church, the Churches of the Broadway-Nutana area worked together to lead the worship.

Before the Gospel reading, the congregation was invited to stand and sing a jazzy Alleluia in preparation for hearing the Gospel proclaimed. But when the song ended, the congregation waited, and no one stepped forward to do the reading. Something had fallen through the cracks in the planning, and there was no one ready to read. Realizing what had happened, David scrambled to solve the problem. And after glancing around, he asked the question of us all, “Does anyone have a Bible?”

The Catholic Parish in which we were worshipping only had hymn books and prayer books in the pews and David didn’t have one on hand either. As I was just realizing that I could access the reading using the Bible App on my phone, another Lutheran pastor came forward with a bible in hand, looked up the text, and read it aloud for all to hear.

I do carry a little bible around with me most of the time, and it does come in handy in my work… not so much for saving the day at ecumenical services, but sometimes as a reference in conversation, and most often as a comfort and encouragement in the midst of pastoral crisis situations. I often pull out my little bible when I’m visiting church members in hospital or in their homes.

Sometimes I share one of the readings from the Sunday coming up or just past – a small way of including homebound members in the life of the church community even when they are unable to come to Sunday worship. Sometimes those who are sick or dying may request a favourite passage, or I may select a reading that I hope will provide comfort and encouragement – an assurance of God’s presence and God’s promises despite the current struggles of life.

And for many Christians who have participated in worship over many years, read the scriptures for their personal devotion and prayer, or joined in regular bible study with others, hearing Psalm 23, or John 14, or Revelation 21 can be a great source of strength in the midst of great difficulties.

Some of you likely have a special bible at home – one that you have studied so much that the pages are dog-eared, one that you received as a gift as a special time or from a special person, or one with special significance for your family.

I didn’t pay too much attention to the news about the US President swearing his oath as he began his second term last week, but one thing I noticed was the discussion around the bibles on which he was going to swear his oath. While there’s no law that requires presidents to use a Bible or to include the words “so help me, God,” Obama did both.

In the first private swearing-in ceremony, he used a family Bible belonging to his wife, Michelle. The following day at the public ceremony, he used two Bibles with special significance – one that had belonged to Abraham Lincoln, and another that was Martin Luther King Jr.’s Bible.

Of course, the bibles might be mostly for show – I can’t say for sure. But if not, it is encouraging to know that the president is honestly asking for God’s help in the work he has to do, that he’s seeking to follow in the footsteps of courageous and wise leaders like Martin Luther King Jr., and he values the Scriptures that they looked to for guidance and direction in their lives and for their leadership.

Special bibles with historical, or family, or personal significance aside, North American Christians today have free access to the Scriptures whenever we might want to read or study them. Some of the fancier Bibles that come with detailed exegetical notes start to get a little expensive, but otherwise Bibles are readily accessible.

We have more copies than we know what to do with in our churches, the Gideons make them available in hotel rooms across the country, and even hand them out to children in our schools. And if you’ve got internet access, you’ve got access to the Bible – in all the translations you can imagine, along with many, many resources for biblical study.

In our first reading this morning from the Book of Nehemiah, we heard about the powerful way that the Scriptures – the book of the Law of Moses – bound the people of Israel together after the exile in Babylon was over and they had returned to Jerusalem. In her commentary in “Feasting on the Word,” Kathleen O’Connor explains what is happening in this text:

“Ezra and Nehemiah preside over a community in severe conflict, dispute, and fragmentation. The book tells about returnees from exile in Babylon, led by Nehemiah and Ezra among others, who attempt to rebuild Jerusalem and restore Judah as a worshiping community. The future of the people is in serious doubt. Enemies attack from outside, but even more disruptively, internal disagreements threaten to undermine the community’s future. The people form factions arguing about who is in and who is out, who should govern, how the temple can be rebuilt, how Jerusalem can be re-established in safety and peace.”

In a powerfully symbolic way, the people of Israel come together around the Scriptures. Men and women, and all who can hear with understanding, stand together and listen attentively from early morning until midday as the Law of Moses is read and interpreted for their time. They bow their heads and worship the Lord, and then they begin to weep.

The text doesn’t really say why the people were crying – maybe because they were upset about all the conflict and uncertainty in their community – maybe because they were hearing the high demands of the Law and feeling guilty about their failures or worried about their ability to live up to God’s commands – maybe because they knew that whatever difficulties had caused the brokenness in their relationships, that God had the power to draw them together again as a People when they gathered around the Book of the Law and their shared faith in the One God of Israel.

But just imagine, these people had been through so much trauma. They had lived in exile for more than a generation, and they were finally at home in the land that God had promised them. They were finally together again, and hearing the Scriptures proclaimed in the public square – the kind of thing that never could have taken place in Babylon.

Maybe their tears were tears of joy. Maybe their tears were tears of relief. Maybe their tears arose from the complicated mixture of feelings they must have been experiencing: fear mixed with hope, grief mixed with joy, regret for past mistakes mixed with determination to be God’s faithful people once again.

The tears make sense to me because I’ve witnessed many tears like those when I’ve read from the Scriptures or offered a prayer in the midst of a pastoral crisis. And the tears are always complicated and difficult to explain, and they’re probably also good for the soul most of the time.

But when the people of Israel wept upon hearing the Word of God proclaimed and interpreted, Nehemiah and Ezra and the other religious leaders said to them: “This day is holy to the Lord your God; do not mourn or weep.” Instead of crying, the people of Israel were being encouraged to celebrate: “Go your way, eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions of them to those for whom nothing is prepared, for this day is holy to our Lord; and do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.”

The view of the Law being expressed here is that the divine instruction is not to be experienced as cramping restricting legislation, but as a compassionate guide, a pathway, a set of wise instructions about how to live together in justice and joy. It is a gift to be celebrated – perhaps at first with tears of joy, but then also with feasting and sharing and rejoicing in the goodness and wisdom and love of God for us.

Reformed Churches have a great history of focus on Scripture reading, study, and interpretation. One of the important principles of the Reformation was that the Scriptures should be made available to all the people, proclaimed in the language of the people, read and studied by the people themselves, and interpreted in community so that the people could understand and live out their faith in God.

In my reflection on the back of this morning’s bulletin, I suggested that our focus on Scripture, preaching, and teaching is one of the strengths of our Presbyterian Church. It is a tradition that we can be proud of, and one that we should strive to continue and strengthen and pass along to those who come after us.

As the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity draws to a close this afternoon, we may be aware of the fact that Presbyterians are a small minority in this part of the country. But all the members of the Body of Christ have an important part to play in its proper functioning. The United Church may bring its focus on social justice, the Catholics may share their emphasis on Sacraments and liturgy, the Evangelicals may offer their experience of a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, and the Lutherans may remind us that it’s all about God’s grace.

And although all the Christian Churches share the gift of the Bible, one gift we Presbyterians may offer is our long tradition of placing the Scriptures at the centre of our faith, of reading the bible seriously but not necessarily literally, of studying it carefully and interpreting it for our time and our context.

Aware of the conflicts and divisions that continue to separate the Christian Churches one from another, we may read the Bible and find ourselves convicted of the sins of discrimination, hatred, pride, or indifference. But we are encouraged not to mourn and weep, but to gather around God’s Word of grace, and hope, and reconciliation in Jesus Christ.

When we gather together as Christians, like we will this afternoon at St. John’s Anglican Cathedral, to read and interpret the Scriptures for our time, we must celebrate as the Israelites did, because God’s Word has the power to bring us together, and in Christ all the members of the body become one body, loving and serving the world in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Looking Forward To The Season Of Lent: The Season of Lent will begin with Ash Wednesday on February 13^th. We will gather that evening for worship including Holy Communion and the Imposition of Ashes at 7:00 pm. We will also share Holy Communion on the First Sunday in Lent which is February 17^th. Take the opportunity to be nourished and strengthened by communion with God and one another for the Lenten journey that lies ahead.

Learning Forgiveness – A Lenten Study: The Christian faith is indelibly marked by the invitation to receive, and the imperative to offer, forgiveness. Forgiveness is the fountain from which new life flows in a wounded, strife-weary world. It can be reasonably argued that the idea of forgiveness is more central and distinctive to Christianity than any other religion, although most great faith traditions give at least some weight to it. Jesus’ words from the cross, forgiving those who crucified him in a profound embodiment of what he taught, reveal this centrality. You are invited to participate in this exploration of forgiveness on Wednesday evenings from 7:00-8:30 pm during Lent:

• Wed. Feb. 13^th, 7:00-8:00 pm – Ash Wednesday Worship
• Wed. Feb. 20^th – Introduction to “Learning Forgiveness”
• Wed. Feb. 27^th – “The Need for Self-Examination”
• Wed. Mar. 6^th – “On Enemies and Honesty”
• Wed. Mar. 13^th – “God’s Love and Judgment”
• Wed. Mar. 20^th – “The Call to Forgive”
• Wed. Mar. 27^th – “Forgiveness and Reconciliation”

Study materials are available in print or by email from Rev. Amanda.

Kids age 3 – grade 6 are invited to join us during the February break for a Bible Addddddddventure! The theme will be “The Fisherman’s Story: Jesus Calls Peter.” On February 19-21 (Tues, Wed, & Thurs) from 9 am to Noon we will run a fun program for kids including music, crafts, drama, and games all based around the Bible Story of the day. It will almost be like a day at camp, except we’ll be at the church instead. Let us know you’re planning to attend by February 15^th by phoning 242-0525 or emailing email hidden; JavaScript is required. There is no registration fee, but please bring a donation for the Food Bank, and be sure to fill in a registration form for each child who will be attending.

Did You Miss Out on getting your photo taken for our new church photo directory? You’re getting one last chance! Trudy will be taking professional individual, couple, and family photos in the library during coffee hour on Sunday, February 10^th. It’ll be first come, first photographed. No appointments. Please consider being a part of our photo directory so others in the congregation can get to know you and your family better. 

“One Family of Faith”

I’ve been looking forward to this week with great anticipation. Some people count down the days until Christmas. Some people count down the days until their birthdays. But I’ve been counting down the days until the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, and I am so pleased that it has finally arrived once again.

It’s a typical third week of January in Saskatchewan, bitterly cold outside. But inside the churches of Saskatoon there is a great warmth, not only because the furnaces and boilers are working overtime, but because Christians of all backgrounds and denominations are gathering to pray, to sing, to share food and fellowship, and to celebrate together as one family of God.

Some of you come from large families and know what it’s like to go to a big family reunion. Family reunions can be great celebrations, and they can be tricky to plan. As the family has grown, people have moved in different directions. They’ve spread out across the country or even the world. They’ve left behind some family traditions and created new ones. They’ve joined together with other families and blended cultures and ways of life.

So when you get the family back together again there can be tensions. People have changed and grown while they’ve been apart, and may have different ideas about what it means to be a part of the family. But at the same time, there is something that binds together the members of a family… maybe it’s a grandparent, maybe it’s a name, maybe it’s a sense of belonging, of coming from somewhere. And so the family reunions are organized, and the family is gathered. And whatever challenges may arise as you come together, there’s something very special about your gathering as a family.

The Week of Prayer for Christian Unity is a very special gathering too. It’s one time in the year when Christians and Churches that have moved in different directions and adopted different traditions and practices are invited to come together and be one Christian family.

Here in Saskatoon we are blessed to have a very active ecumenical community, and a week full of opportunities to meet, pray, learn, and share together. A few days ago my mother was looking for a Week of Prayer service in Ottawa where she lives, and she couldn’t find one. There used to be two – one at the beginning and one at the end of the week – but this year there didn’t seem to be anything advertised for the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity where she lives.

One might hope that the reason they don’t have a service is that the Churches are doing lots together throughout the year, making a special gathering redundant. But it’s more likely that the Churches have forgotten the importance of coming together, of praying together, of dialoguing together about what it means to be a part of this Christian family. They’re more like an estranged family – not openly in conflict, but divided one from the other, and certainly not receiving the gifts that the other branches of the family have to offer.

In today’s reading from 1 Corinthians 12, the Apostle Paul gives advice to a congregation that was much more openly in conflict with one another. Within the one Christian congregation at Corinth, a number of backgrounds, experiences, and gifts were represented. Those who felt they had the more important gifts (like speaking in tongues) looked down upon others who didn’t. Some were honoured in the community, and others were rejected.

Paul’s response to this situation is not to encourage the Christians at Corinth to divide up into different types of Churches: those who speak in tongues could have met on the East side of Corinth, or perhaps at the 9 o’clock service, and those who liked to pray quietly and sing a few sombre hymns could have met on the West side, or at the 11 o’clock service.

Instead, Paul made it clear that the Church community needed to embrace the variety of gifts, activities, and services with which its members had been blessed. All of these gifts come from the same Spirit. They are gifts from God. And the community needs to make space for the diversity of its people and honour what God is doing through each one.

If you need a guide to help you discern whether someone else belongs in the Church community with you, don’t compare their gifts to yours. Don’t compare their background, or experiences, or preferences. And don’t be put off by different ways of praying, or teaching, or serving. If they proclaim that “Jesus is Lord” just as you do, then the Holy Spirit is in them. They belong with you in the family of God, in the Church community that embraces all.

They say that you can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family. What you can choose is how to live in relationship with those within your biological family, your congregational family, or the family of the Christian Church. You can choose to engage in conflict with family members with whom you disagree. You can choose to shun, or ignore, or simply avoid interacting with those who do things differently from you. Or you can choose to engage with those who are different – to offer them respect despite your differences, to receive their gifts despite past conflicts.

It may not involve becoming best friends. And it probably won’t include one party or the other changing to do things just the way the other does them. But unity does not mean uniformity. Christian unity can exist with a great deal of diversity where the members of the community can make space for the Spirit’s great variety of gifts, and where Christians can proclaim together with our many voices that “Jesus is Lord.”

I appreciate the fact that the Revised Common Lectionary provides us today with a text from 1 Corinthians that is so fitting for the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. But the other texts for this morning are also very appropriate. In the reading from the Gospel of John, we hear about Jesus attending a wedding and performing his first public miracle, the first sign in the Gospel of John of his identity as the very Son of God.

Weddings, of course, are often kind of like family reunions. The siblings, and the cousins, and the grandkids, and the uncles and aunts all come home to celebrate a wedding in the family. And it’s all complicated by the fact that it’s a family reunion for two families happening at once. Weddings can be so complicated by different family traditions, by spoken or unspoken expectations, and usually there are at least a few people that the organizers are trying not to seat at the same table just to reduce the possibility of conflict ensuing.

And I’m thinking about typical Canadian weddings including a ceremony, some pictures, a dinner, a dance, and maybe a gathering to open the gifts. Just imagine what it must have been like at that wedding in Cana – a wedding celebration that would have gone on for about seven days! We don’t know whose fault it was that the wine was running out well before the party was over, but it was definitely going to be embarrassing for the host and potentially lead to some conflict in the family.

I often forget that Jesus’ first miracle was to change water into wine. I usually get focussed on the miracles he did that were aimed at helping the poor and helpless – feeding hungry people, healing grave diseases, even stilling a storm that was threatening his disciples. But in Jesus’ first miracle, he turns water into wine, saves a family from embarrassment, and keeps the party going for a couple who are celebrating their marriage.

If there were conflicts or tensions between or within the families at the wedding in Cana, Jesus didn’t seem to get involved in them or make any attempts to sort them out. He simply helped them, with his mother’s encouragement, to keep on celebrating the thing that was binding them together – the newly formed relationship between a young man and a young woman.

It makes me think that we should spend more time celebrating together… like our Board of Managers getting together for pizza before their meeting last week, or the choir’s plans for a dessert party next month. We should get together just for fun on a regular basis, and let Jesus perform that first miracle again in our midst: the miracle of diverse people, with different gifts, and a variety of preferences, from different backgrounds and experiences, being together as a family of faith, celebrating the thing that binds us together – that Jesus is our Lord – and sharing an abundance of food, and wine, and fruit punch, because God is good and we are one in the Spirit.

It’s probably magnified by the fact that I am in an interchurch marriage, but the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity feels to me like a family reunion or a family wedding. The different branches of the family get together to worship and celebrate. In some cases, we don’t know each other very well, and the gathering gives us a chance to become acquainted. In some cases, we’ve got some misgivings about the others, some old wounds that need healing, or some misconceptions that need to be corrected, and the gathering gives us an opportunity to deal with some of that stuff too. In some cases, we’re actually good friends, but distance, or difference, or simply habit means that we don’t get together as often as we would like, and the gathering is a reunion of joy and gladness.

Most of all, during this Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, we acknowledge and celebrate the fact that we all belong to the same family of God. Together, we are deeply loved by God, and we share in the promises of God together. The prophet Isaiah described God’s love and faithfulness towards God’s people as being like a young man marrying a young woman, like a bridegroom rejoicing over the bride.

Together, let us celebrate God’s steadfast love and faithfulness to us, and may the Spirit of God bind us together in one family of faith. Amen.

Saturday, January 19

10:00 am – 12:30 • Ecumenical Dialogue: Lessons Learned
Public workshop with Bishop Gregory Cameron, Church in Wales (Anglican)
at St. Anne’s RC Parish, 217 Lenore Drive (map)
Presented by the RC Diocesan Commission for Ecumenism, St. Thomas More College, & the St. Anne’s Ecumenical Committee

Sunday, January 20

3:00 pm • Opening Service at St. Thomas Wesley United Church
808 – 20th Street West at Avenue H (map)
Preacher: Bishop Gregory Cameron, Church in Wales (Anglican)

Monday, January 21

7:00 am • St. Matthew’s Anglican
135 – 109 Street East at Egbert Avenue (map)

7:00 pm • How Communion Changes Ecumenism
Ecumenical Lecture with Bishop Gregory Cameron
at St. Thomas More College Auditorium, 1437 College Drive (map)
parking available in Place Riel lot, access off of Wiggins Street
Presented by the RC Diocesan Commission for Ecumenism & St. Thomas More College

Tuesday, January 22

7:00 am • St. George’s Anglican
624 Avenue I South, south of 17th Street (map)

7:30 pm • Service for Public Ministry of Healing (Order of St. Luke)
at St. Stephen’s Anglican, 10 Grosvenor Crescent, south of Taylor Street (map)

Wednesday, January 23

7:00 am • Trinity Evangelical Lutheran Church
419 Avenue E North at Bedford Road (map)

10:00 am to 1:00 pm • Clergy workshop: Six Pointers to Ecumenical Ministry, with Bishop Gregory Cameron
at Cathedral of the Holy Family, 123 Nelson Road (off Attridge, map)
Presented by the RC Diocesan Commission for Ecumenism & St. Thomas More College

Thursday, January 24

7:00 am • St. Joseph’s Roman Catholic Church
535 – 8th Street East at Broadway (map)

12 noon • Queen’s House Retreat & Renewal Centre, 601 Taylor Street West at Herman Avenue (with lunch by donation) (map)

Friday, January 25

7:00 am • First Mennonite Church
418 Queen Street at 5th Avenue (map)

7:30 pm • Jazz Service at St. Francis Xavier Roman Catholic Parish, 222 Willow Street (Melrose Avenue & Hilliard Street) (map)

Saturday, January 26

7:30 pm • Youth Service at Redeemer Lutheran Church
812 Preston Avenue at Main Street (map)

Sunday, January 27

3:00 pm • Concluding Service at St. John’s Anglican Cathedral
816 Spadina Crescent East (map)
Preacher: Bishop Cindy Halmarson (Lutheran)

“The Meaning of Baptism”

Have any of you been baptized? How many of you were baptized when you were infants or young children? How many of you were baptized as teenagers or adults? How many of you were baptized with water being sprinkled or poured on your head? How many of you were baptized by immersion in a pool or lake or river? How many of you have brought your own children for baptism? How many of you can remember witnessing a baptism and welcoming a child, or young person, or adult into the church community? Well, there is certainly a lot of experience of baptism here in our church today!

Although we don’t have a baptism to administer today, we are celebrating the Sunday called, “Baptism of the Lord,” remembering Jesus’ own baptism by John in the Jordan River, and thinking about the meaning and significance of our own baptism.

Baptism is a very important practice in our Christian Faith, one of two sacraments that we celebrate – Baptism and Holy Communion. In the order of sacraments, baptism is first. It is the sacrament of initiation – a rite that marks our entrance into the Christian community. If you go to Europe and take note of many of the historic churches, they often have baptisteries – smaller buildings just outside the churches – where new Christians would have been baptized. Baptisms took place outside the churches, and then the newly initiated were welcomed into the churches to join in the worshiping community and the Sacrament of the Eucharist. Some churches still keep their baptismal fonts at the back of the church near the entrance, a sign that baptism is the beginning of our Christian life.

When I meet with parents who are thinking about having their child baptized, or with adults who themselves want to be baptized, we talk about the many meanings of baptism. When I say that baptism has many meanings, I don’t mean that it means different things to different people, and all those meanings are valid. I mean that baptism signifies several different things, and all these meanings are operative in every baptism.

The one I usually start with is initiation into the church. Baptism is our rite of initiation. It happens once and only once, whether we were baptized as little children or later in life, we are baptized once. Baptism assures us that we are loved, that we belong to God, and that we are a part of the Body of Christ – the Church. When Jesus was baptized, a voice came from heaven. God said, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

Although we may not hear God’s voice out loud, our baptisms give us that same assurance. We are loved by God, and we are welcomed into the family of God – into the church. Our baptismal liturgies include the congregation welcoming the newly baptized person into the church community – both into the local congregation and into the worldwide family of the Christian Church.

The baptisms that we administer here in our church are not Presbyterian baptisms, just as others do not receive Anglican or Catholic or Lutheran baptisms. We are baptized into the Christian Church and welcomed into the Christian Church. Because our different churches perform baptisms in very similar ways, using water and in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, we recognize the baptisms performed in other churches and we avoid baptizing people again as if their earlier baptism did not count.

When John the Baptist was baptizing people in the Jordan River so long ago, his was a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, and our baptism involves repentance and forgiveness as well. Adults being baptized and parents bringing their children for baptism make promises as they do so. They promise to turn away from sin and towards Christ. They promise to do their best to follow the way of Jesus – to worship God, to celebrate the Sacrament of Holy Communion, to participate in God’s mission to the world. And when it is a child being baptized, they promise to raise their child within the family of the church – to share their faith and teach the child about God’s love in Jesus Christ.

Repentance simply means turning. And when we are baptized, we are turning our lives towards the way of Jesus. Then, as we are immersed in the water, or as the water is poured over our heads, we are cleansed by the power of God. We are washed in the water. We are forgiven. Of course we’ll make mistakes and do wrong things again, but we can turn again to God and God will forgive us again. There is no need to be baptized again because we already belong to God, and we have already received the gift of God’s Holy Spirit.

At the conclusion of the Gospel of Matthew, just before Jesus ascends into heaven, he gives some final instructions to his apostles. He sends them out into the world to make disciples and baptize everyone in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Although John baptized with water and gave the people an opportunity to be forgiven and turn their lives towards the way of God, something new happened when Jesus was baptized.

His baptism was not just a symbolic action with the purpose of reorienting people towards God’s loving ways. Instead, God was doing something when Jesus was baptized. Jesus prayed, and God gave him the gift of the Holy Spirit. Luke’s Gospel describes the event like this: “Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove.”

And that’s what we believe happens to us in our baptism as well. We are certainly involved in what is happening: We repent, we profess our faith, we commit to following Jesus in the community of the church, and we pray. But baptism is primarily God’s action. God is pouring out the Spirit into our lives. God is blessing us. God is claiming us as God’s beloved sons and daughters and equipping us for mission and ministry in the world.

Sometimes baptism of an infant can be thought of as a kind of a naming ceremony. It can be seen as an opportunity to celebrate the birth of a child and perhaps to introduce the baby to the wider community. And although baptism often includes that kind of celebration, celebrating or even praying for and blessing a child is not really what baptism is about.

In my reflection on the back of this morning’s bulletin, I mused that perhaps “we should baptize by full immersion more often, rather than just sprinkling or pouring the water. If someone literally pushed us down under the water, and even held us there for a moment, perhaps we would understand the risk and sacrifice to which our baptism calls us.”

You see, the final meaning of baptism is dying and rising with Christ. Baptism by immersion emphasizes this meaning much more strongly that simply pouring water on the head. The person is pushed down, completely under the water where they can’t breathe – a symbol of dying and an indication of the person’s willingness to die with Christ. And then the person is raised up from the water, just as Christ was raised from death. In baptism, we die to our old selves and we are raised to a new life in Christ.

Baptism is not just a thing that happens and then is done. Baptism is the beginning of a new life of following Jesus. And following Jesus means being willing to risk and to sacrifice for what is right and good. It means choosing to follow the path that Jesus walked – the path that led him to the cross.

Today I hope that many of you are remembering your baptism, as I am remembering mine. Your baptism is not just an event that happened many years ago when you were an infant or a child or a young adult. Your baptism is operative still today.

Perhaps today, as you remember your baptism, you need to be reminded that you truly belong to God. Remember that you were deeply loved by God on the day of your baptism, and you are deeply loved by God today. You may be struggling with challenges and frustrations in life. You may be feeling discouraged or even down on yourself. And so today, I hope that you will hear God’s voice once again – through the scriptures, through my voice, through the power of the Holy Spirit – saying to you, “You are my child, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

Perhaps today, as you remember your baptism, you need to be called once again to repentance – to turn your life once again towards God’s will and God’s ways. Remembering the promises you once made at your baptism, or the promises that you made your own as a young person or adult professing your faith, you may know in your heart that your life has turned in a different direction.

Maybe you have allowed sin and selfishness to creep into your decisions and your relationships. Maybe you have let yourself be led by your desire for comfort, or pleasure, or pride. Please know that the God who cleansed you from sin in your baptism has the desire and the power to cleanse you from sin today. Turn once again in your heart towards God, and by God’s grace you will be forgiven and renewed for a life of love and faithfulness.

Perhaps today, as you remember your baptism, you are being called to join more fully in the mission and ministry of Jesus. You should be encouraged because you have received the gift of the Holy Spirit, and the Spirit will guide you and equip you to do more than you could ever do on your own.

God may be calling you to take a leadership role in one of the ministries of the church, or God may be calling you to become more intentional about living out your faith in your family, your workplace, your school, or community. Sharing your faith, practicing forgiveness, demonstrating patience, growing generosity, embodying love… These are some of the gifts of the Holy Spirit that Christians are called to enact as we seek to follow the self-giving way of Jesus.

Perhaps some of you today are just considering baptism. You may not be baptized yourself, or you may not have made a decision yet about baptizing your children. If that is the case, I would encourage you to keep thinking about it and considering whether baptism is the next step for you or your child in your journey of faith. It’s not something to be taken lightly, but it’s also not something for which we can ever be fully prepared. Though baptism calls us to make promises and to turn our lives towards Christ, it is primarily a gift from God. In baptism we are blessed, and accepted, and filled with the gift of the Holy Spirit.

As the prophet Isaiah encouraged God’s people Israel in the midst of their struggles and trials, in baptism we are assured that we belong to God, and that God will be with us and in us and around us through every trouble or challenge, as well as through every joyous celebration in our lives.

Isaiah proclaimed God’s assurance: “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Saviour.”

We are going to sing a baptism hymn together now. When we sang it at choir practice on Thursday night, someone asked, “Oh, will there be a baptism on Sunday?” No, we’re not baptizing anyone today, but we are remembering our baptism and giving thanks to God. Today, the child of promise that we sing about in this hymn is not a tiny child in a white dress. The child of promise today is you. The child of promise today is me. Let us remember our baptism and give thanks.

Hymn #521 “Child of blessing, child of promise” 1997 Book of Praise.

Several times over the Christmas Season, I found myself in conversations about why we celebrate Christmas when we do. One person commented, “Every day is Christmas for me. We don’t know what time of year Jesus was born, do we? So I can celebrate his birth all through the year.” I certainly couldn’t dispute that! We really have no idea when Jesus was born, either what date or season, or even exactly what year.

What the Christian Church has done is to choose a birthday for Jesus. We have chosen a time of year to celebrate and give thanks for the birth of Christ, for God’s incarnation among us. The probable reason for the selection of December 25th was to coincide with pagan festivals that were being held around the time of the Winter Solstice. I can imagine the Christian leaders speculating… Perhaps if we celebrate a mass for Christ at that time, Christians will be less inclined to get caught up in those other pagan celebrations. There’s good sense in that reasoning.

And yet, there are other good reasons for celebrating the incarnation at the end of December. As John’s Gospel proclaims, Jesus is the Light of the World. And so we celebrate his coming at the darkest, coldest time of the year, when the days are so short and we are longing for light.

Many religious traditions do something similar. Jewish people, for example, celebrate the miracle of light with Hanukkah, an eight-day holiday that commemorates the rededication of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem after a small group of revolutionaries prevailed over a large army of occupiers. The amount of oil left to light the sacred flame was only enough for one night, and yet it lasted for eight. Just when we are convinced that there is not enough light to illumine God’s path, the miracle unfolds and the fire blazes.

The Hindu festival of “Diwali” is another tradition popularly known as the “festival of lights.” It involves the lighting of small clay lamps filled with oil to signify the triumph of good over evil. And there are many other religious and cultural festivals that take place around the time of the Winter Solstice. Many involve lanterns, candles, bonfires, and other symbols of light and warmth, serving as hopeful reminders that the light will return, the days will get longer, and all will be well.

Today we celebrate the Epiphany of the Lord, and “epiphany” simply means a “showing” or “shining forth.” As the wise men followed a bright shining star to find the Messiah who had been born in Bethlehem, we celebrate God’s presence and love being shown to us, being revealed to us, shining forth for us in Jesus’ birth, and life, and ministry.

In a pastoral reflection on this morning’s passage from Isaiah 60, I like the way that Karen Pidcock-Lester summarizes the message of the Epiphany. First of all, she reminds us that the darkness is real and pervasive. Not only do we have short days and long cold nights at this time of year in Saskatoon, but the people of our city and people throughout the world are struggling in the darkness of poverty, conflict, despair, illness, and more.

Each of us will be able to point to some times in our lives when figurative darkness has been all around… in the chaos and confusion following the sudden death of a loved one, in the anxiety and helplessness of supporting a family member through a critical illness, in the despair of serious depression or other mental health issues, in the anguish of marital breakdown, the humiliation of failures in our careers, or the distress of serious financial problems.

And even if our personal lives are going smoothly, we share in the collective struggles of our world, the darkness and despair that is so evident in school shootings, children living in poverty, gangs and violence in our neighbourhoods and throughout the world.

In his message to the people of Israel so many centuries ago while they were struggling in the Babylonian exile, Isaiah voiced what God knows – the grim realities of life in this sinful world, and just how thick the darkness can get. He wrote, “Darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples.”

But he does not stop with that discouraging reality check. Isaiah continues, proclaiming, “Your light has come.” Even now, there is light shining in the darkness. Pidcock-Lester creatively describes that light as follows: “It is as though the world were a blackened stage. No house lights are on, no footlights, no stage lights. The actors cannot see where they are going; they grope their way through their scenes. Then from above the stage, beyond the catwalk, a single spotlight cuts into the darkness with a cone of brightness, casting a circle on the floor. The light shines on some of the people who stumble blindly in darkness.”

Twice in the last week, and many times over the years, members of this congregation have wondered aloud to me how people without the gift of faith manage to get through life. These comments are usually made in the midst of the struggles of life, during times of loss, confusion, illness, or death. “This is so hard,” I’ve heard people say many times, “But I’m going to be okay because I know that I’m not alone. I can keep going and remain hopeful because God is my strength and my salvation. I just don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have my faith in God.”

I don’t know what to say when people wonder about others who don’t have faith. I don’t know how they make it through the darkness that so often comes upon us in life. And so in those conversations, I often encourage us to pause and simply give thanks to God for the gift of faith. Pidcock-Lester writes, “It is grace that has shined this light. Grace has chosen the ones who find themselves dwelling in the brightness of the circle. It is not their light that shines, but the light of the Lord, and it falls on whom it will.”

Grace has its privileges. Isaiah writes, “Then you shall see and be radiant; your heart shall thrill and rejoice.” You see, even in the midst of the darkness, those on whom the light has shined can see things that others can’t. With the eyes of faith, we’re able to see the myriad ways that God’s love and goodness are being shared. We’re able to focus our eyes on justice, kindness, and generosity growing in our lives and relationships and world. And we’re able to look forward in time towards the great and glorious day when all will be made right, when God’s kingdom will be complete. And we’re able to keep moving step by step towards that vision.

Isaiah proclaims that the people on whom light has shined will be able to see what grace is doing if they “lift up [their] eyes and look around.” If they do, they will be radiant. Their hearts will thrill and rejoice, for they will be able to live with a vision of the new realm, and in the confidence that this realm is already coming to pass.

Of course, grace also has its responsibilities. Isaiah shouts, “Arise, Shine; for your light has come!” And this is not an invitation. It’s a command. Pidcock-Lester reminds us that “the light has not come merely to rescue a chosen few from darkness. The light has come so that others will be drawn out of the darkness into the circle of light.” As Isaiah wrote, “Nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn.”

And so, we who have received the gift of faith, and the experience of God’s light shining on us, showing us the way through life, encouraging us with hope and expectation for all that God has in store for us… We cannot stop with mere gratitude to God for the gift. We are being sent to “Arise and Shine!” Not only are we to invite others to enter into the light and share in the experience that we have found here, but we are called to shine ourselves – to reflect the light of God’s love and grace into the darkest places in our world.

Of course, there are many different ways that we can go about shining and reflecting the light of God’s love. The main thing is that we use our own particular gifts to share God’s love in our families, communities, and world. Let me tell you about three ways that were on my mind this week.

A few faithful members of our church shine the light of Christ into what is often the darkness and isolation of a hospital room. They each take time to visit one of Saskatoon’s hospitals every week and to visit with Presbyterians who are ill or injured.

When they arrive at the pastoral care office, they don’t know if they will find one or many Presbyterians on the list, and they don’t know if they will be welcomed or rebuffed. But they bring the gift of an invitation, and they offer a listening ear, an encouraging word, a prayer, and often simply a quiet presence that shines the light of Christ by demonstrating that someone cares.

The other day I came across the bright, shining face of one of our church’s youngest members on her mother’s facebook news feed. Ella was being honoured by the Saskatoon SPCA because she decided to make Christmas treats to sell to her friends, family, and school mates in the hopes of raising funds for the SPCA.

Indeed, Ella raised over $200 for the animals in the care of the SPCA, and the staff and volunteers were humbled and touched by her thoughtfulness, hard work, and generosity. Using her own particular gifts, a little girl was shining the light of Christ’s love for all the creatures of the earth.

Next Sunday, we’ll all have the opportunity to participate in shining the light of Christ’s love to people far away that we haven’t even met. The Hildur Hermanson group of the WMS here at St. Andrew’s will be hosting a fundraising lunch after worship in support of this year’s International Mission Project of the Women’s Missionary Society.

We have the ability to change the lives of women and children for the better by supporting maternal and child health programs in Malawi with Presbyterian World Service and Development. Our donations, combined with government matching funds, will shine the light of Christ’s love in a very practical and meaningful way to women and families all the way in Africa.

As we go out from our worship today, as we go into our families, and workplaces, and communities of friendship and relationship, I pray that we will each experience the grace of God’s light shining on us, and that we will each be inspired to look for every opportunity to reflect that light to those around us.

Let me end with a prayer expressed by the Scottish preacher and author, John Phillip Newell, in a reflection on this celebration of the Ephiphany: “My prayer is that we will remain open-eyed to the light of God’s presence in one another and in everything that emerges from the earth around us, that we may find the ways together to open our eyes and to know that we are invited to be light-bearers that can be part of transformation in our world.” Amen.

On the back of this morning’s bulletin, Rev. Hans Kouwenberg describes this first Sunday after Christmas as “low Sunday.” And compared to the full church that we experienced here the last couple of Sundays and on Christmas Eve, today does feel a little low. The crowds are gone, just like the nearly-deserted temple in Jerusalem after the big pilgrimage festival was over.

But like Jesus, who would spend his life in and out of the temple and the synagogues, learning more and more about God and the will of God for human people, we will continue to gather here week by week, and learn day by day about God and God’s will for our lives.

Even though the crowds have dispersed somewhat, the scriptures today “won’t let us get away with any lowering of our praise,” as Kouwenberg put it. Whether or not we have with us a well-rehearsed choir or a huge congregation, we must continue to join with the whole of creation in praising God as today’s psalm encourages us: “Young men and women alike, old and young together! Let us praise the name of the Lord, for he alone is exalted; his glory is above earth and heaven. He has raised up a horn for his people, praise for all his faithful, for the people… who are close to him.”

On this first Sunday after Christmas, we continue to praise God for the wonder of the incarnation, for the amazing gift of God’s Word becoming flesh among us and living as one of us in our world. The story of the twelve year-old Jesus being left behind in Jerusalem reminds us that he entered fully into human and family life.

Though he was spectacularly gifted in his understanding of God and religion, he grew up within a normal human family. He was a son to a human mother and father, as well as to a heavenly parent. And although he was likely a pretty good son, he nonetheless caused his parents some anxiety and concern at times.

The great Methodist theologian John Wesley, once wrote that this passage about Jesus’ childhood provides practical teaching regarding progress in holiness. Wesley was a leader in the holiness movement, and helped to organize and form societies of Christians throughout England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, and North America as small groups that developed intensive, personal accountability, discipleship and religious instruction among members.

His greatest theological achievement was his promotion of what he termed “Christian Perfection,” or holiness of heart and life. Wesley held that, in this life, Christians could come to a state in which the love of God, or perfect love, reigned supreme in their hearts. He insisted on the use of the means of grace (prayer, scripture, meditation, and communion) as the means by which God sanctifies and transforms the believer.

And so, as Wesley read in Luke’s Gospel that, “Jesus increased in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favour,” he must have found in that comment a model for Christian discipleship. Jesus, though perfect, continues to grow in perfection, and thus Wesley said, “it plainly follows” that even “pure” Christians “have room to increase in holiness” and “in the love of God.”

I’m not so sure that many of us would be so bold as to refer to ourselves as “pure” Christians. Most of us are a little harder on ourselves than that. We get stuck in our prayers of confession rather than our prayers of praise, noticing our own failures and selfish moments more than we pay attention to our growing generosity and compassion and love.

Just the other day I said, “You’re the best!” to a fellow Christian while thanking him for helping me out with something. And he was hesitant to accept my praise. He was so aware of the ways in which he is still a long way off from good.

But no matter how far along the path to perfection or holiness we may believe ourselves to be. Whether we’re just starting out, beginning again for the umpteenth time, or well on our way… we are reminded today that we are following the path that Jesus walked before us. We are following in Jesus’ footsteps and learning the way that he lived before us in our world.

It’s not just an idea of goodness and righteousness and love that we are aiming at, but it is the way of Jesus of Nazareth that we are seeking to follow with our lives. We do have a lot of complicated situations and issues and relationships that we are working out each and every day. But there are still a lot of times when asking ourselves, “What would Jesus do?” can provide some remarkably insightful direction for our decision-making day by day.

The first thing we have to do is pause and actually ask that question. And the second thing (often the more difficult thing) is to find the will within ourselves to actually follow his direction.

Wesley believed that it is within our human capacity to come to a state in which the love of God reigns supreme in our hearts, and I believe that too. Because we are made in the beautiful image of God. We’re made for love. We’re made to love one another as Jesus loved us. That’s why he told us to do it, because he knew that we could.

As we come to the end of 2012 and prepare to begin a New Year, this could be a time for us to resolve once again to spend time “in the temple” as Jesus did… listening and asking questions and answering questions… coming to worship, exploring our faith, reading the bible and other good books of theology, participating in bible studies and discussion groups, and more. We could take seriously Paul’s encouragement to the Christians at Colossae to “let the word of Christ dwell in [us] richly” so that we will be equipped to follow the way of Jesus with our lives.

Those are excellent things to do, and I won’t dissuade anyone who wants today to recommit themselves to spiritual disciplines like worship, prayer, and bible study. But our passage from Colossians encourages us to go even further. Yes, we need to worship God actively so that the word of Christ can dwell in us richly. We need to teach one another, and we need to sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. We need to take seriously our commitment to praising and worshipping God.

But in his letter to the Colossians, Paul says that “whatever we do, in word or deed” we must “do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” Our faith is not something that only takes place on Sundays, or something that is only expressed in our spiritual disciplines. We need to carry our faith into every activity of our lives… into our work, into our school, into the community groups of which we are a part, into our families and networks of friendship, into our pastimes, into “whatever we do, in word or deed.”

Of course I hope that you (and many who are not here with us this morning) will be active participants in our Sunday worship and in the programs and ministries we will share here at St. Andrew’s in 2013. But most of all, I hope that you will take the faith and hope and love, the generosity and compassion and care, that are growing within you, and make use of them in your daily life.

When you are making your kids’ lunches for school, when you are serving customers in the restaurant or store where you work, when you are supervising your employees, when you are caring for your aging parent or your spouse who is unwell, when you are studying biology or physics or economics, when you are waiting at the bus stop or driving your car, when you are sharing a meal with your family or a social evening with friends… “Whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”

For you are “God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved.” May you be clothed today, and for the New Year, “with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience… and above all… with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony… And be thankful.” Because “the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth… No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.” Thanks be to God.

• Sunday, Jan. 13th @ noon – The Women’s Missionary Society will be hosting a fundraising lunch after worship. Donations will go towards this year’s international mission project – Maternal and Child Health Care in Malawi. Learn more about this important work by going to the WMS website.
• Thursday, Jan. 17th @ 1:30 pm – The Thursday Group will welcome author Lesley-Anne McLeod (known to St. Andrew’s folk as Lesley Bens). Lesley has loved all things British for longer than she can remember. So it was natural that when she turned to writing fiction she should write Regency romances, those uniquely English historical romances. For the past fifteen years Lesley has been able to focus her attention on fiction writing, learning the intricacies of character development, the importance of word choice, and the necessity of creating a world in which the reader can believe and dwell. She regards research for the historical novel as a joy and a necessity that involves long hours with wonderful books. Learn more about Lesley-Anne McLeod’s work on her blog.
• January 20-27 is the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. The opening worship service in Saskatoon will be on Sunday, Jan. 20th, 3:00 pm at St. Thomas Wesley United Church (20th Street @ Ave. H). The preacher will be Bishop Gregory Cameron from the Church in Wales (Anglican). For the full schedule of prayer services and special events throughout the week go to Ecumenism in Canada.
• Saturday, Jan. 26th @ 8:30 am - All women are invited to the Presbyterian Women’s Breakfast. Enjoy good food, great company, and a short program at Mulberry’s on 3rd Avenue.

Luke 2:1-20
John 1:1-14

Yesterday afternoon I caught a little bit of the CBC Radio One program, “Cross country checkup,” as I was driving in my car. And the question of the day, that Reg Sherren was asking Canadians across the country to respond to, was: “What does Christmas mean to you in a multicultural Canada?”

When I turned it on, there was a woman talking about inviting her Jewish and Muslim friends to her annual Christmas dinners, as well as accepting invitations to their special holiday events. It sounded like a good and enriching experience to share hospitality and friendship across cultural and religious lines.

Someone else talked about Christmas having been transformed from a religious observance to a secular and commercial celebration. I thought at first that she was going to complain about that change. But instead she said that this was a good thing, because now everyone (whatever their religion or culture) can participate in Christmas together – exchanging gifts, sharing special meals, having parties, bringing their kids to the mall to sit on Santa’s knee.

Later, when I got home, I went online and read some of the email responses to the Cross country checkup question of the day. And there I found some wonderful reflections on Christmas traditions. Many people wrote about their particular family practices, and the cultural and religious practices they continue to honour from homelands around the world.

Some shared about basically secular celebrations. A few even noted that what they do is mark the Winter Solstice with ancient pagan practices like bringing greenery into their homes as a reminder that Spring will eventually come.

But quite a few also wrote about the importance of religious practices at this time of year… going to midnight mass, going to church on Christmas morning to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. One writer, from a Dutch background, talked about the fact that her family celebrates the legend of Sinterklaas and exchanges gifts on the evening of Dec. 5th so that when Dec. 24th arrives, Christmas is reserved for religious observances only – a time set apart for remembering and giving thanks for the birth of Jesus the Lord.

Although there was a great deal of variety in the responses to the Cross country checkup question, Sherren reported that a recent Abacas survey indicates that Christmas traditions aren’t really changing that much over the years, even as immigration numbers increase. The survey polled over 15 hundred Canadians, and over 13 hundred said they planned to observe Christmas. 41% of those said they celebrate it as a religious holiday, 50% said they celebrate it as a secular holiday, and 9% were unsure. So, for some (41%) of those Canadians who are celebrating Christmas this year, this is a spiritual season culminating in a holy day – the origin of the word holiday.

The fact that you are here tonight probably means that either you and/or your family have decided that celebrating the birth of Jesus is at least a part of what it means for you to celebrate Christmas. You are part of the 41%, or perhaps the 9% who are unsure. But you are here to sing Christmas carols (not just Jingle Bells and Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer) but to sing the traditional Christian carols about the birth of Jesus, and to light candles, and to hear once again the biblical story about the birth of a child in Bethlehem who would become our Saviour and our Lord.

I didn’t call in or send an email to tell Reg Sherren and other Canadians about what Christmas means to me, although I did hear a Ukrainian Catholic priest sharing about the various services that are a part of his Christian Tradition. But since I have the pulpit tonight, I thought I would just share briefly about what Christmas means to me in multi-cultural Canada.

Perhaps there was a brief time in Canadian history in which Christianity was the primary, established religion, and Christmas was Christmas, and everyone knew what everyone else was talking about when they said “Christmas.” But through most of Christian history, and in most parts of the world, Christianity has existed side by side with a variety of other religions and secular cultural practices.

In a Christmas reflection in “Feasting on the Word,” Nancy Taylor explains that “When opposing cultures come together and live together, they often bring into being new ways of seeing the world.

When Oeastre and Jesus came together in the newly missionized areas of England and northwest Europe, Jesus brought in communion and Oeastre brought in her fertility symbols of rabbits and baby chickens. When Christians lived with the Romans for a while, the desired holiday of his birth became associated with the Latin Saturnalia.

And then there’s Christmas! Into this odd syncretism of elves and apostles, reindeers and shepherds, snowmen and magi, Jesus and Santa spin in a common blender and generally speaking, the non-Christian elements come to the froth at the top of the spin.”

I admit that I find the syncretism – the mixing of religious and cultural practices – difficult. When people talk about elves and flying reindeer, and describe those as part of the Christian story, I am troubled. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with those things – and they certainly are fun for children! – but they are not what Christmas means to me.

My Christmases over the years have included gatherings with family, and sometimes not; decorating Christmas trees, hanging up stockings and setting out cookies and milk for Santa, and sometimes not; exchanging gifts, sending cards, sharing a big special meal with turkey and cranberry sauce and Christmas pudding, and sometimes not.

Some of that stuff is pretty good. I can get into the trees and lights and special gatherings and meals with friends and family. And it’s quite wonderful that there is a time of year when people are inspired to give like they never give at other times… coins dropped in the Salvation Army kettles, cheques written to favourite charities, extra donations for Food Banks and other missions, including churches.

But most of the trappings of Christmas I could live without. Because whether my neighbours in multicultural Canada are Jewish or Muslim or Sikh or Hindu or Mormon or secular or Christian, Christmas means the same thing to me that it always has meant and it always will mean.

Gathering in Christian community to sing, and pray, and celebrate the birth of Jesus is the only part of Christmas that I can’t live without. It is a celebration of the birth of Jesus of Nazareth.

He was born like any other child… but with the church throughout time and space, I believe that he was God coming to live among us – God’s Word, God’s message of love becoming flesh in our world.

In the words of the Nicene Creed, he is “God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God.” This very one has become flesh and lived among us – literally “tabernacled” or “tented” among us, as the glory of God “tabernacled” with the people of Israel.

Because God so loved the world that he sent his only Son to be a part of our human family, to live among us and experience all the joys and sorrows that we experience in life, and to reveal to us in his teaching, his preaching, his welcoming, his healing, and his sacrifice that God is love and we are the object of that love. We are God’s beloved children.

No matter what holiday traditions you are going to take part in tonight and tomorrow… whether you’ll be gathering with a large group of family or friends, whether you’ll be exchanging gifts, sharing special meals, spending a quiet day at home, or maybe even going to work…My prayer tonight is that you will know in your heart the meaning of the Christmas we gather to celebrate tonight – that Christ is born, that God’s Word has become flesh so that you might experience the amazing love of God for you. Merry Christmas.

This morning I brought with me my little nativity scene. Nick and I bought this little nativity, or crèche, quite a few years ago at a Ten Thousand Villages store. What I liked about this particular crèche was the little figures – simple, hand-painted, and quite small so you have to get up close to see the detail and identify the various characters. Unfortunately, our Joseph is missing. I don’t know if we lost him just after we got the set, or if he was always missing. But the taller shepherd stands in for Joseph when I set up the scene.

You can have a look at our little nativity scene at the end of the service if you like and see the beautiful tiny figures. But the reason I brought it today is because the prophet Micah got me thinking about little things. The prophet wrote, “But you, O Bethlehem of Ephrathah, who are one of the little clans of Judah [the least of the clans of Judah], from you shall come forth for me one who is to rule in Israel, whose origin is from of old, from ancient days.”

It’s the same reason why I suggested that we sing “O little town of Bethlehem” this morning. Even though we sang it last Sunday, it seemed so appropriate to sing today about the little unlikely town in which the Saviour of the world was born, that we had to sing it again. I didn’t know the story of this popular Christmas carol until just the other day when I read about it in a reflection by Nancy Taylor:

“The carol’s story begins with a simple visit to Bethlehem but has grown to stretch around the world. On Christmas Eve in 1865, a young Episcopal priest named Phillips Brooks approached Bethlehem on horseback and then worshipped in its ancient Basilica of the Nativity. The simplicity and beauty of the service made a lasting impression on him.

“Three years later, while he was serving as the rector of Holy Trinity Church in Philadelphia, the Sunday school children asked Brooks to write a new Christmas song. The memory of his Christmas Eve in Bethlehem came rushing back, and he penned the words in a single evening. On Christmas morning in 1868 the little children of Holy Trinity first sang a song that has become one of the best loved of all the carols.”

Won’t you sing with me?
“O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie.
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by:
yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting light;
the hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.”

In a little town, in a back-room stable, to an unimportant couple, a tiny child is born who will be the long-awaited Messiah, who will not only save his own people, but who will turn the world upside with his love.

Of course, this wouldn’t be the first time that God had chosen an unimportant place or an unimportant person to play an important role in what God was doing. The prophet Micah, writing around 735 BCE, was waiting for and hoping for a Messiah to come and save God’s people Israel. He believed that the reign of King David would survive throughout all of Israel’s history. And although David had been dead for almost three centuries, Micah and some of the other prophets were looking for his return – for a new king to be born in his line who would extend the empire he established long ago.

And David had been born in Bethlehem. David was the youngest – the least in his family with a bunch of older brothers. He was the one they left out in the fields looking after the sheep when the prophet Samuel came looking for the future king, because no one thought he was even a possibility. David was little. But he was chosen by God. And with God’s help, he was able to do great things for his people.

And so Micah speaks words of hope to his people who are in despair. He concedes that the situation is grim: the nation is in extreme distress, Jerusalem is under siege, and the king has suffered humiliation. The people see no hope. But Micah sees hope. He sees beyond the current circumstance to what God is promising to do. “And they shall live secure,” he proclaims. And he encourages the people to open their eyes to see how God is going to do it in the most unexpected ways, in unexpected places and through unexpected people.

There are some people and some parts of the world today that are experiencing the kind of insecurity that Micah’s people must have felt – nations in conflict, violence in the streets, rulers struggling for power, poverty, exile, homelessness, and hunger. When we pay attention to the news and listen to the struggles of our neighbours, we may become very aware of the fact that we live in an insecure world – a world that is marred by terror, war, poverty, accidents, and tsunamis, not to mention the ordinary but nonetheless anguishing events of old age, illness, and death.

How many conversations have you had in the last week about the horrific shooting of the school children and teachers in Connecticut last week? And how many parents felt just a little cautious when dropping your kids off at school after such an event?

Even with all the security systems and pensions and insurance and resources that many of us have, what people today have in common with the ancient Israelites is that sense of insecurity that pervades many of our lives. How did a disturbed young man get a hold of the guns he used to murder all those children? They belonged to his mother who apparently owned them for protection – because she somehow felt insecure enough that she wanted to have a collection of guns at the ready.

When we feel insecure, like the ancients, we typically look towards perceived seats of power for rescue. Some buy guns, while others lobby our governments to control access to such weapons. We hope that our leaders and people in positions of power and influence will see to our needs and to the needs of the most vulnerable among us.

“Yet, while we are looking towards prime ministers and presidents, satraps and senators,” Nancy Taylor points out that, “Micah is jumping up and down, waving his arms, desperately trying to point us in an entirely different direction. He is pointing to a small, out-of-the-way place: a town called Bethlehem. He is pointing to a leader who stands ‘in the strength of the Lord’ rather than in the strength of weapons or power or wealth or territory… It takes one’s breath away, this promise… Micah captures the ache with which we live each day and the hope that is in us for a future that only God can deliver.

“Christians understand God’s provision of true security in the One whose birth the church is soon to celebrate. Christ is our security. He is bread for our hunger, drink for our thirst, and life for our death.”

And Christ arrives as a tiny, helpless child, born in a stable and placed in an animal’s feed trough. Even today’s story of Mary visiting her relative Elizabeth before the birth highlights the unlikely way that God works. Mary and Elizabeth meet with no pretensions to greatness.

Another commentator, Stephen Cooper, describes the scene as absurd: “The coming of the Messiah who will redeem Israel is anticipated and proclaimed, not by archangels or high priests or emperors or ever ordained preachers. Rather, two marginalized, pregnant women – one young, poor, and unwed, the other far beyond the age to conceive – meet in the hill country of Judea to celebrate (and possibly commiserate about) their miraculous pregnancies.”

And “yet,” as Taylor describes it, “a babe leaps, the Holy Spirit turns up, and Elizabeth, sensing the wonder of what is occurring, cannot hide her astonishment that God’s blessing and presence would deign to visit her humble abode.”

Elizabeth was surprised by what God was doing in her life and in the life of her young relative, Mary. But she noticed. And Mary noticed too. And Mary didn’t think, “Well, this must be happening to me because I am very special. This must be happening to me because I have been good and pure and faithful to God my whole life through.” Instead she recognized that what God was doing through her was an amazing gift of God’s grace.

And Mary – young, and pregnant, and unimportant as she was – became a prophet announcing the good news of what God was doing, and what God was about to do. She sang, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour, for he has looked with favour on the lowliness of his servant… the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name… He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.”

We are just two days from Christmas now – a time when food and family and frivolity may draw our attention away from the concerns and insecurities of the world and perhaps even distract us from our own individual worries for a time.

But over these next few days, and this next week, I invite you to remember the reason for our joy, and our gladness, and our celebration. We are not just distracted from our troubles and concerns, but we are encouraged with hope because Christ is born. As humble and precarious as his coming was, he is the one who has the power to save us from ourselves and deliver us into the glorious kingdom of God.

As John the Baptist recognized the Christ child coming near and leaped in Elizabeth’s womb, may we also experience the joy of our Lord’s presence this Christmas. Let’s keep our eyes and ears and hearts open during this season, because we’ll probably need to look towards some unexpected people in some unexpected places.

“Drawing Water: A Short Reflection after the Christmas Pageant”

This is a day of rejoicing, is it not? We are filled with the joy of being together as a church family, of singing some of our favourite carols and listening once again to the beautiful story of Jesus’ birth. We are filled with joy because our children are beautiful, and talented, and they have shared their gifts with us once again today. Most of all, we are filled with joy because today we are remembering the real Christmas. Details aside, we are remembering and rejoicing in the truth that in Jesus of Nazareth, God became flesh and lived among us. And in Jesus the Christ, we have experienced God’s very presence, love, and grace for us.

The Christmas story has been shared today, in words, and action, and song, so I don’t need to say much more. But I just wanted to briefly draw our attention to the passage from Isaiah 12 that Christine just read for us. The prophet, who shared these words so long ago, was declaring his confidence and trust in God. Despite all the struggles that God’s people were experiencing, the prophet encouraged everyone to trust in God and not to be afraid. That is an encouragement that we also need to hear, again and again and again: “Surely God is our salvation; Let us trust, and not be afraid, for the Lord is our strength and our might; God has become our salvation.”

Whenever I read verse three from this text, a joyful musical setting comes to mind: “You will draw water joyfully from the springs of salvation.” It seems to me that today we are doing just that. We are drawing water – life-giving, thirst-quenching water – from the well of our shared faith in God. No matter what challenges or stresses or disappointments we may be coping with in our lives, we are gathered here this morning to joyfully draw water that will bring us spiritual refreshment and sustain us for the days ahead.

And as we encourage our children and our grandchildren to learn the stories of our faith, and to pray, and to worship, we are helping them to learn where those wells can be found. We are sharing the good news of God’s love for us in Jesus Christ with them, so that they will be well-equipped in the future to come back and draw water again and again from the wells of our Christian faith.

Isaiah proclaims, “Sing praises to the Lord, for he has done gloriously; let this be known in all the earth. Shout aloud and sing for joy… for great in your midst is the Holy One of Israel.” This morning we have raised our voices together to sing praises to God, and we will keep singing together as we celebrate Christmas and Epiphany. Indeed, we will keep singing the whole year through in praise to God and to share our faith with those who might be open to hear.

If you are feeling thirsty these days – thirsty for hope, thirsty for joy, thirsty for meaning and purpose in your life – I pray that this Christmas you will find opportunities to come back to the wells of salvation, and to have your thirst quenched with God’s amazing love for you in Jesus Christ.

Or if you are overflowing with faith and hope and joy this season, I pray that you will find opportunities to sing and to share and to proclaim the source of the hope that you have. A simple invitation to tonight’s Festival of Lessons and Carols, or to another Christmas service might be your neighbour’s opportunity to return to the wells of faith or to drink from them for the first time.

May we all experience and share God’s presence with us in Jesus Christ – Emmanuel.

Today is December 9^th, just sixteen days until Christmas. How are your preparations going? Do you have a “to do” list, and if so, are you getting things checked off on your “to do” list? I am the kind of person that likes to make “to do” lists. I make one almost every week for work, noting the various tasks and projects, calls and visits that I hope to do that week. It’s a good way to get a handle on things, to set priorities, and to lessen the likelihood of forgetting something important.

If you were to make a “to do” list for yourself between today and Christmas, how many sheets of paper would you need? Maybe you have gifts to buy or make – you might need a whole list just for gifts! Maybe you have cards to send, or far-away friends or family members that you want to call. Maybe you have baking to do, special meals to plan, decorations to put up, a house to clean, get-togethers to attend, Christmas plays or concerts to watch. Oh, and some of you might have to go to work too, or have some exams to write for school in the meantime. I still have quite a few things on my list, and I’m not even planning for a big family Christmas gathering, nor do I have any kids to buy gifts for as many of you do.

On this second Sunday in Advent, I want to invite you to set aside your Christmas preparations… at least, set them aside in the back of your mind. Yes, many of those things will need to get done at some point. Maybe, like me, you’ll want to write them down on a list and work your way through them so that you are not stressed or anxious about them. They’ll get done. Or perhaps some of them won’t, and all will be well.

But on this second Sunday in Advent, we hear about other preparations that we are called to make in our lives at this time of year, and I want to invite you to consider these preparations as a priority. Advent is a time, not only for getting ready for Christmas, for getting ready to celebrate the coming of Jesus into our world. But it is a time to consider how we are preparing for his coming again.

Back in the first century, before the Christians were even celebrating Advent or Christmas, the Apostle Paul was encouraging the Christians at Philippi (just as he encouraged the Christians at Thessalonica in last week’s reading) to get themselves ready for Christ’s coming again.

Writing to the Philippians, Paul said: “I thank my God every time I remember you, constantly praying with joy in every one of my prayers for all of you, because of your sharing in the gospel from the first day until now. I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ.”

Paul has great hope for the Philippians! He is confident that when the day of Jesus Christ comes, when Christ returns in power and glory, the Philippian Christians will be ready. “Pure and blameless” is what he prays they will be on the day of Christ’s return, “having produced the harvest of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God.”

Reflecting on this prayer, someone asked, “Can you imagine living a blameless life? Can you imagine living a blameless day?” It’s not that we are such terrible people, but perfect and blameless are just a little beyond our reach.

And yet, Paul is confident that the Philippians will get there. And I am confident that we will get there… Not because the Philippian Christians were so wonderful, and not because the Saskatoon Presbyterians are so wonderful, but because it is God working in us and through us who is able to produce a harvest of righteousness, an abundance of goodness. It is God who began a good work among us, and it is God who will bring it to completion.

The Worship Committee at St. Andrew’s has been studying the Sacrament of Holy Communion this Fall. At the Session’s request, we are studying the theology of the Sacrament, considering its meaning and significance for us, and thinking about how and when and why we are called to gather together at the Table of the Lord. And one of the things that has come up in our discussions is the practice of having preparatory services before Communion services.

Until some time around the mid-1990’s, St. Andrew’s used to have a Friday evening worship service on the weekend when Communion would be celebrated on the Sunday morning. These preparatory services would have encouraged people to get ready for the experience of Communion with each other and with God. Some of you will know better than I what those services involved, but I imagine that they were an opportunity for individuals to examine their lives, to consider their relationships, and to confess their sins to God before sharing in the Sacrament on Sunday.

One member of our committee noted that these preparatory services were in keeping with his early experience of Communion in the Church. Before coming to the Table of the Lord with our sisters and brothers in Christ, church members were expected to do the hard work of reconciliation with those from whom they were estranged or in conflict. It reminds me of the Catholic encouragement to go to Confession before coming to Communion. And just as we ask God to forgive our sins and failings, we too must be willing to forgive our neighbours, our friends, and our family members.

In the early history of Reformed Churches, the ministers used to do something that was called “fencing the table.” Before Communion was celebrated, there was a severe warning expressed, often including a long list of serious sins. Remembering the Apostle Paul’s words to the conflicted Corinthian Church, the people would be warned, “Whoever, therefore, eats the bread and drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be answerable for the body and blood of the Lord. Examine yourselves, and only then eat of the bread and drink of the cup.”

Unfortunately, when that kind of severe warning is expressed too often and too insistently, it can lead to a situation where no one really feels worthy to go to Communion. Another Worship Committee member shared about some of the churches in Holland when she was young, in which only a few people actually came up to receive the bread and cup of Communion. The others didn’t consider themselves to be good enough to receive it, and so they stayed in their pews.

It seems to me that Communion, which we shared together here last Sunday, is both a sign of our unity in Christ, and a means to bringing us together in greater unity with one another and with Christ our Lord.

So yes, we should be preparing ourselves for Communion. We should be considering our lives, confessing our sins, and making efforts to mend our relationships and turn our attention towards God and God’s will for us. When we do those things, our Communion together is a sign of the unity that we share, a celebration of the reconciliation that has been achieved in our relationships with each other and with God.

But Communion is also a means to unity. We don’t “fence the table” anymore because we believe that God is so gracious and so loving that all people can be invited to come. Just as Jesus shared so many meals with prostitutes and tax collectors and those who were known to be sinners, Christ’s table in our midst is open to all who love him and who want to love him more.

And so, even as we get up from the table, even as we go out from the church, refreshed and renewed by the Sacrament of Holy Communion, we are called to love one another as Christ has loved us. We are called to forgive one another as God in Christ has forgiven us. We are called to follow, more and more closely, in the steps of Jesus, and to prepare ourselves, not only for our next Communion, but for the coming of Christ our Lord.

Advent is a time dedicated to that kind of preparation. We may yet have some gifts to buy, some cards to write, some meals to plan, and some special gatherings to attend. Remembering the Communion with one another and with God that is ours through the loving mercy of God, I hope that we can set aside some time this Advent to prepare our hearts, our spirits, and our lives for Christ’s coming. I hope we can make some space in our lives to allow God, who began a good work among us, to bring it to completion.

Let us hear again the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.” Amen.

Today I would like to take a moment to pause and give thanks for the people in my life that bring me encouragement. For my husband, who expresses his love for me both in words and in caring support. For the women in the prayer group and on the prayer chain, and for other members of the congregation who pray for me regularly. For the people who say, “Well done,” when it is true, and who offer a hug no matter what. For a Presbyterian lay preacher in a Saskatchewan town who reads my sermons online and sends me an encouraging email every few months or so.

But this isn’t just about me. I want to invite you to consider this morning… Who are the people in your life who offer you support and encouragement? Who encourages you? And how to they do it? Maybe it is a colleague who makes a point of thanking you for your valuable contributions. Maybe it is a friend or a relative who calls you, or who listens to you when you call, or who just remembers to tell you sometimes that you are loved. Maybe it is someone who tells you, “You can do it!” when you’re doubting yourself. Maybe it is someone who loves you anyway when you mess up.

I hope you don’t have to think very hard or very long to bring to mind the sources of encouragement and hope in your life. I hope that they are numerous. But if they’re not, please do not despair, because encouraging one another is one of the reasons why we have gathered here this morning. It’s one of the reasons that we gather here Sunday by Sunday, week by week… because we, as a Christian community want to do what Paul was encouraging the Christians of Thessalonica to do – to increase and abound in love for one another and for all.

Now, Paul didn’t just instruct the Thessalonians to encourage one another. Instead, he demonstrated how to do it. He wrote them a letter. Does anyone still write letters? Do you get out some nice stationery, and choose a good pen, and sit down to write to someone that you care about? If you do… well done! I imagine that the recipients of such letters must be quite encouraged by the time and attention and care that you put into writing to them.

Well, letters were the way to go in Paul’s time. Sometimes they took a while to get delivered, but Paul wrote some amazing ones to the Thessalonians and to other early Christian communities. Of course, Paul had a relationship with the church in Thessalonica. He and Silas had gone to that city on his second long journey to teach about Jesus. They preached in the Jewish synagogue, and some Jews and many Gentiles believed in Jesus. And although Paul couldn’t stay in Thessalonica, he longed to see his friends there again. He prayed for them every day. And because Paul couldn’t be with them in person, he sent his co-worker Timothy to see how they were doing. Timothy returned and brought a good report, but he hinted that they needed some hope, some encouragement.

Here’s a paraphrase of part of Paul’s letter to them: “How can we thank God for you? You have brought us so much joy before God. Each day I pray that I will see you again and help you to continue to grow in faith. I hope that God will send us back to you. Meanwhile, may God make your number grow and your love for one another be as full as our love for you. May God make your hearts strong and you holy until Jesus returns.”

What do you think? Would those words have given the Christians in Thessalonica some hope and encouragement?

As I think about the letter to the Thessalonians, it seems to me that Christian leaders should consider writing letters of encouragement a little more often than we do. Sometimes there’s a good, encouraging letter from the Moderator in the Presbyterian Record, so that’s a start. But how often do our leaders write to individual congregations? How often do we hear a letter of encouragement read aloud from the pulpit?

And it’s really only once a year, when I prepare a minister’s report for our annual program meeting, that I write what often feels like a letter of encouragement to the congregation. I pause to reflect on the year that has past, and I remember and give thanks for the blessings of being engaged in ministry with this congregation.

Well, it’s not time for the program meeting yet. And some would say that it’s not the beginning of a New Year. It’s neither January, nor September when it really does feel like a New Year. But it is the first Sunday of Advent, and in the Church, Advent is the beginning of a New Year. So here is my letter to you… the people of St. Andrew’s (not an email dashed off to the St. Andrew’s list serve to remind you of an upcoming event, but a real letter):

To the congregation of St. Andrew’s Presbyterian in Saskatoon,
From your minister, Amanda,
Grace to you, and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

If I haven’t told you in a while how special you are, let me do so today. I thank God every day for all of you, and for the nine years of ministry that we have been able to share together so far. Whenever people ask me about my congregation, I am always proud to tell them about you and the good ministry that we are doing together, that you have been doing in this place for many generations.

For one thing, you do quite well at living up to the sign on the side of the church. It invites people in the neighbourhood to “Come and Worship with Friendly Presbyterians,” and you often do offer a warm welcome to visitors and newcomers in our church.

I must commend you also on your attention to caring for each other. Many of you take the time to visit one another, to phone one another, and to encourage each other, especially when someone is going through a difficult time. Over the years, you’ve always created structures and systems to co-ordinate pastoral care. And although these have changed somewhat over time, what hasn’t changed is the dedication of St. Andrew’s people to care for one another, and pray for one another through all the ups and downs of life.

This is one time of year when I am always reminded of your generosity. The Advent Appeal seems to inspire you to give more and more each year, and you seem to have such fun doing it! I don’t know if making your regular financial offerings to the ministry and mission of St. Andrew’s is quite as much fun, but you are amazingly generous with your offerings as well.  One of your previous ministers used to say, “If there is a need, and you tell St. Andrew’s about that need, they will fill it. There’s no question!”

I want to thank you today for your stewardship – not only for the financial support that you give to this congregation and to the Church’s ministry and mission through Presbyterians Sharing and Presbyterian World Service and Development – but I want to thank you for the time and talent that you share in this community. You serve on the session, the board, and the committees of the church. You offer your gifts in music, in hospitality, in maintenance of the building, in leadership, in photography, in computers, in writing, in teaching, in child care, in prayer, and in so many other things!

And you don’t just keep your ministry work here in the church. Many of you find ways to share your faith in your families and communities. You read bible stories to your children and grandchildren, and do your best to teach them about God and God’s love. You put your faith into action by volunteering in the community, and by bringing your values of love, forgiveness, justice, and kindness into your workplaces and schools and community organizations.

You take your faith seriously. You serve God diligently. You worship God faithfully. I give thanks to God for you every day. And I also pray every day that the Lord will make you increase and abound in love for one another and for all.

In other words, you’re not perfect yet. We’re not perfect yet. Sometimes we can be pretty hard on each other. Sometimes we can be pretty impatient with each other. Sometimes we can forget that we’re all working towards the same goals with the best of intentions. And sometimes we can get discouraged because ministry can be difficult, and the circumstances of life can be challenging, and the world we live in today can be confusing and disappointing. Sometimes we can forget that we need to encourage each other.

But today I hope that you will hear and receive, not only the encouragement of your minister who loves you and who is proud of you, but that you will hear and receive the encouragement of God who loves you and who is proud of you.

On this first Sunday in the Season of Advent, the scriptures remind us that we are preparing (not just for Christmas and a celebration of the birth of Jesus the Christ) but for Christ’s coming again and for the fulfilment of the Kingdom of God.

We wait and pray for that day together with hope and expectation. And today, as we gather together with Christ at the table of the Lord, may we be strengthened and encouraged by our God as we experience a foretaste of the great banquet that awaits us with all the saints in the Kingdom of God. May God’s kingdom come. Amen.

Over tea and homemade pie yesterday afternoon, a church member asked me about the church’s celebration of Christmas. He remembered that when he was growing up in Scotland there were no special church services for Christmas, and gifts were exchanged at New Year’s rather than on December 25th. Indeed, Christmas didn’t become a national holiday in Scotland until fairly recently.

Unfortunately, I didn’t know when Canadian Presbyterians or other Protestants began celebrating Christmas, nor did I know when Canada made Christmas Day into a statutory holiday. I could point out that all the Churches have gone through some significant liturgical reform over the last 30 or 40 years. One significant reform is the celebration of the Church Year in most of the mainline Churches. The Church Year includes not only special Christmas services, but also special seasons like Advent to anticipate and prepare for our Christmas celebrations.

Growing up in a Canadian Presbyterian Church in the 1980’s, we were already lighting Advent Candles on the Sundays leading up to Christmas, and I think it was a fairly long standing tradition to gather for worship on Christmas Eve for a service of lessons and carols that was one of the highlights of my early religious experience.

Reading a little more about Christmas celebrations online yesterday, I discovered that the earliest celebrations of Christmas on December 25th took place as early as the fourth century. And though some of the Protestant Churches went through periods of banning Christmas celebrations because of a belief that they were too Catholic, Christmas has been a pretty big part of most Christian Churches for a very long time.

The special Sunday that we mark today, however, is a little more recent. It was Pope Pius XI who, in 1925, declared a special feast day for Christ the King. It was a time in history when respect for the church was waning and state control over the church was increasing in many countries.

Stalin and Mussolini were names in the news, and Hitler had just published his autobiographical book, Mein Kampf (My Struggle) in which he presents his ideas about the state of the world, and his decision to completely exterminate the Jewish presence in Europe. It was gutsy for the Pope to declare to the people of those times that Christ is our King! The holiday in and of itself was a reminder to people both inside and outside the church that our allegiance is to Christ – not to any political or popular leaders in our country, our world, or even our Church.

Most Presbyterian congregations in Canada likely began observing Christ the King or Reign of Christ Sunday in the mid-90’s with the adoption of the 3-year Revised Common Lectionary cycle. And the scripture texts assigned for today invite us to reflect on what it means for us to say that Christ is our King.

If you know your Old Testament quite well, you may remember that God resisted Israel’s requests for a king. They were a People who lived and organized themselves into twelve tribes, and they had judges appointed who helped them to live together in peace with justice. But the people wanted a king, perhaps to bind them together as a People, perhaps to strengthen them against their enemies, and eventually God relented and gave them one.

The hope, of course, was that the kings of Israel would be good, wise, just kings who would rule the people fairly and make the land a better place. But, of course, that didn’t always work out. The first king, Saul, was a disgrace, but when the prophet Samuel anointed King David there was renewed hope and optimism.

In many ways, David was a good king who loved God and strived to please God as a leader. But he also made some pretty terrible mistakes… jealousy, adultery, murder, greed… He was far from the good king that God would have hoped for. And yet, God blessed him and was faithful to him.

At the end of his life, David was still striving to be the kind of king that God needed for Israel. In his final words he described what a king should be like: “One who rules over people justly, ruling in the fear of God, is like the light of morning, like the sun rising on a cloudless morning, gleaming from the rain on the grassy land.”

“Was my kingdom like that?” David seems to ask God. “Well, sometimes,” we may imagine God answering. But David has reason to give thanks for God’s grace and mercy, because God makes with him an everlasting covenant. God promises to remain faithful to David’s line, to allow his sons to rule even though the kings who follow will not be perfectly good, or just, or faithful either.

Until Jesus, that is. For the Gospels portray Jesus of Nazareth, born in Bethlehem, in the City of David, as the long-awaited Messiah, the new king born in the line of David, who will finally fulfil God’s vision for a good and just King of Israel, for a good and just King of the whole world.

Of course, the whole world didn’t recognize him as their king. He wasn’t rich. He didn’t seem powerful. And he didn’t command great armies or even fight for his life when people started to throw accusations at him.

Pilate asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” And Jesus didn’t exactly say yes, and he didn’t exactly say no. He said, “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.”

My kingdom is not from here. Any normal king would have been worried about the fact that his own people had turned against him. Any normal king standing in front of Pilate that day would have been coming to terms with the fact that he was no longer going to be a king. The people were rejecting him, and his reign was over.

But Jesus wasn’t worried, because his kingdom was not from the earth. It wasn’t from the people. His kingdom was from heaven, from God. And his kingdom didn’t depend on him being physically present, sitting on a throne, making rules and laws, and demanding that his subjects follow them.

His kingdom was characterized by righteousness, peace, and joy, and it was already springing up like seeds growing into thriving trees, like yeast leavening whole loaves of bread… and there would be no stopping it. It was already taking hold among God’s people, and within them, and between them as they learned how to love one another as Jesus had loved them.

There were, of course, hard times ahead… for Jesus on the cross, and later for his followers when they experienced persecution and often martyrdom during the first few centuries of Christianity for their insistence that Christ alone was their King.

But in the midst of that terrible persecution, somewhere around the year 90 CE, a Christian leader, known in the tradition as John, wrote a letter of encouragement to the Christian Churches and their people who were suffering. And although his letter follows the usual pattern of epistles or letters of the time, it is particularly special and unique because in it, John shares an amazing vision of heaven, full of apocalyptic (or “end of the world”) themes and images.

As the American Presbyterian preacher, Thomas Long, explains, the text of the Revelation first invites the reader to look up. John has taken a visionary journey up into the heavenly realms, and he reports on “all that he saw.” The idea is that heaven is an unseen reality above the earth, with events taking place simultaneously with earthly history. On the earthly plain, John’s community is troubled, experiencing faith-quenching distress of some kind, including violence and persecution.

In response to this crisis, John, “in the spirit on the Lord’s day,” has travelled up to this heavenly realm, and now returns with a report on what he witnessed. What he sees is good news for the community below. Down below, their robes are drenched in the blood of violence, but in heaven the saints are gathered in praise around the throne of God, their robes washed “white in the blood of the Lamb.”

While things look bleak on the earthly plain, the glimpse of the heavenly realm reveals a different truth. Even as the suffering goes on, the victory of the saints is already accomplished in the heavenly realm.

Today’s passage provides a first taste of this triumph when it greets the community from the God “who is and who was and who is to come.” This is the God who holds all time – past, present, and future – in the divine hand.

John also sees and brings greetings from Jesus Christ, who is “the firstborn of the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth.” There is encouragement in that too. Even if the Christians are killed, they have hope for everlasting life. Christ has been raised, and so they will also be raised. And despite the seeming power of earthly rulers in the world – power that is so often being used for evil and violence – John gives them the assurance that Christ is truly the ruler of all in the Kingdom of God.

But Tom Long points out that if heaven and earth remain forever on parallel tracks, this text would be cold comfort. “All hell is breaking loose on earth, but don’t fret,” it would coo. “Things are just fine in heaven.” But in John’s apocalyptic vision, parallel lines eventually meet, and the triumph of heaven becomes earthly victory as well.

After asking readers to look up into the heavenly realm, John next asks them to look forward into the future: “Look! He is coming with the clouds; every eye will see him.” What is now visible only to the eyes of faith – that Christ is the Alpha and Omega of human history and the Lord of all – will one day be known by the whole cosmos.

Our troubles and trials today in this place may pale in comparison to the violence and persecution that the earliest Christians experienced, and they may also be mild in comparison to the struggles of Christians in other parts of the world. And yet, I believe we too need the encouragement of John’s Revelation.

Some of us are worried about the future of the churches. Will Christian faith survive the Western move towards secularism and the growth of other world religions? Some of us have serious questions about what difference we can make in the world as Christians and Churches. Can we make any significant contribution towards justice, or peace, or love between Peoples and Nations? Some of us are struggling with personal issues, with addictions, or illness, or brokenness in our relationships and families. We are looking for some relief, and for some strength to hold on until it comes.

As the first readers of the Revelation did, we are invited to look up to heaven, to the God who was, and who is, and who is to come, and to Jesus Christ who is the King and ruler of all. And we are invited to look forward into the future, and to trust that heaven and earth are not parallel lines, but that they will eventually meet.

Indeed, heaven broke into our world when Jesus was born. When God-self came and lived among us, the Kingdom of God started to spring up and to grow among the people of the earth. As we proclaim today and every day that Christ is the King, and as we live, day by day, the kingdom values that Jesus taught us, may God’s kingdom grow among us, within us, and between us… until the day when every eye will see Christ coming on the clouds, and his kingdom of peace, and justice, and love will be complete. Amen.

On Saturday, November 24th from 2:00-4:00pm the Women’s League of St. Andrew’s will host its annual Christmas Tea & Bake Sale. Everyone is invited!

Only $3.50 includes coffee or tea and dessert. Invite your friends and family to join you for a lovely time of visiting and sharing at St. Andrew’s while enjoying some scrumptious home made pies.

You can also pick up some delicious home baking to take home for the busy season ahead.

The Women’s League also welcomes your donations of baking for the sale. The proceeds go to a great cause: the ministry at St. Andrew’s. Baking may be dropped off any time after 10:00 am on Saturday.

There are people like Hannah among us today, and in our families and communities… not just women and couples who struggle with infertility, but men and women and young people who experience the kind of anguish and despair that Hannah shows to us in her story. The particular struggles are myriad… grief, illness, loneliness, depression, problems at work, problems in family relationships, conflict between friends, or a general lack of meaning and purpose in life or in the sense of being valued and loved.

What a sad way to start a sermon! But it’s true, isn’t it? Most of us can relate to Hannah’s outburst in the place of worship because we have felt like that at times too. Some of us will have kept the public weeping to a minimum, but we can understand how she got to that point. She just couldn’t take any more of the other wife’s taunts. She just couldn’t handle any more of her husband’s sympathy. She just couldn’t hold on anymore to all the anger and sadness and resentment that she had been carrying for so long. And she let go of it by talking to God about it.

Now, it wasn’t a nice little prayer that she offered up to God with a measured amount of praise and thanks and a polite request for some help in the baby-making department. It wasn’t a carefully prepared request like the prayers we often offer together in our public worship. But Hannah simply poured out her heart to God.

At our choir practice on Thursday evening, someone commented that even though we aren’t doing a regular psalm reading today, two of the four hymns we’re singing this morning are psalms. When I thought about that I realized that the reason is likely because the psalm writers did what Hannah was doing in the temple that day. They poured out their hearts to God in prayer. They openly and honestly expressed lament, and complaint, and anger to God. And when they honestly felt it, they poured out their praise and thanks and joy to God as well.

Reading and singing the psalms, especially in contemporary translation, can be a way for us to find words to express the prayers that we want to offer to God in the variety of circumstances of our lives. In times of despair and doubt, we join in the prayer of Psalm 22 asking, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” And as we place ourselves once again into God’s care, we pray with the author of Psalm 23, “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil, for you are with me.” And when there is relief from suffering, when encouragement and hope come, we might express our prayers with the words of Psalm 30: “Sing praises to the Lord, O you his faithful ones, and give thanks to his holy name. For his anger is but for a moment; his favour is for a lifetime. Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning.”

The psalms may help us in expressing our feelings and thoughts to God, but they are not a substitute for our very own words and tears poured out to the God who is longing to be in relationship with each one of us.

Hannah was so distressed by her situation that as she poured out her heart to God she wept bitterly. We read that her lips moved, but her voice was not heard. And observing her behaviour, the temple priest, Eli, assumed that she was drunk. Maybe she was swaying or rocking as she prayed. Maybe she was audibly crying or wailing, while the words of her prayers were heard only by God.

One of the most amazing things about this story, I think, is that Hannah knew where to go. She went to the place of worship and poured out her heart to God. I know that some of the people in our church do the same thing when faced with difficult struggles in their lives. Some will pray or ask the church to pray for them. Some will call the minister. Some will talk to an elder or to Laura, our Pastoral Care Nurse. Some will phone a Christian friend, whether someone who attends our church or another.

But other times, I know, there is a hesitancy to share the deep struggles of our lives. How difficult it can be for many people to return to the worshipping community after the death of a loved one. The fear of breaking down in public may hold some back, or even the sense that when we’re at church we should be friendly and happy and together.

I can’t very well do it when I’m the worship leader and preacher, but when I have the opportunity to worship in other churches I have often found myself weeping as I prayed and sang and worshipped along with the Christian community. And perhaps I have been too caught up in my own grief, or my own sorrow, or my own focus on clinging to God for strength and encouragement and hope… but I’ve never noticed anyone giving me funny looks when I’m crying. And no one’s ever asked me if I’m crazy, or drunk, or anything else.

But that’s the fear, isn’t it? What will other people think? And what will they say? Perhaps especially for men, who are typically less comfortable with articulating and sharing their feelings, this kind of vulnerability in the community can be very difficult.

When I read Hannah’s story earlier this week, I noticed at first that she went home feeling better. The story reports that “she went to her quarters, ate and drank with her husband, and her countenance was sad no longer.” Regardless of what the outcome of her prayer might be, whether God granted her a son or not, in that moment she somehow felt a little better.

And because the change in her countenance seemed to occur just after her interaction with Eli, I assumed that his words were a source of encouragement to her. I conveniently forgot about the first thing he said to her. Remember? “How long will you make a drunken spectacle of yourself? Put away your wine.” One of the commentaries I read later referred to Eli as “the inept priest.” He says just about the worst thing that anyone could say to someone who is upset and crying in church. So if Hannah feels better later, it can’t very well be because of the compassionate pastoral care that she received. It’s got to be in spite of it.

The only other thing that Eli says to her is a perfunctory blessing and word of encouragement: “Go in peace,” he says, and may “the God of Israel grant the petition you have made to him.” It’s hard to believe that I interpreted that as being helpful on my first read through. It really wasn’t much, and he was still kind of hurrying her out of the worship space, perhaps hoping to get rid of this woman who was making a bit of a scene.

And unfortunately, a lot of people in our church and in other churches as well, in the midst of their grief or illness or depression or loss, have encountered ministers and elders and fellow church members that have demonstrated that same kind of ineptitude. A caregiver returns to church after the loved one she cared for over so many years has died, and someone says, “Well, at least you’ll have more time for yourself now.” A person with a chronic illness finds the energy one Sunday to attend worship, and someone asks, “Where have you been? Are you becoming a Christmas and Easter Christian?” Someone else struggles with depression every day, but when he comes to church people are always telling him to smile more.

Eli may serve as a reminder to us that it’s really easy to make assumptions about other people and to say things that may be hurtful. With practice and care, we can do better for each other than Eli did. We can take time to listen and try to understand each other’s struggles. We can make our church into a safe place where we can all pour out our hearts to God without being judged or criticized. And Eli also reminds us that even when we do get things wrong, God may well be working in people’s lives, providing hope and encouragement, in spite of our ineptitude.

When the first Christians were making the transition from the Jewish Faith to the new Christian Faith that grew out from it, one of the things that they had to do was to figure out what the Christian community would do when they came together. One of the key aspects of their Jewish practice had been the making of offerings and sacrifices at the temple, especially during the great pilgrimage festivals.

But with their new faith in Christ came the end of the need to make continual sacrifices to God. As the reading from Hebrews this morning explains, “When Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God… and by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are sanctified.”

The early church did not continue to make sacrifices to God in the temple because they believed that their right relationship with God did not depend on making sacrifices. In Christ, their sins had been forgiven (as have ours) so there was and is no longer any offering for sin.

But the early Christians did continue to meet together. They met on Sunday, the day that Jesus rose from the dead, and they called it the Lord’s Day. They met together for prayer, praise, teaching, fellowship, and the breaking of bread. They met together to support and encourage one another in the faith.

Very much like we do today, the early Christians faced many struggles in life. They struggled with their personal and individual losses and sorrows and challenges, and they struggled together as a community that was experiencing persecution and often danger.

Things were so bad at times, that they wondered about the end of the world and prayed for the coming of the Kingdom of God. And the author of Hebrews encouraged them: “Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who has promised is faithful. And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching.”

As we draw close to the Season of Advent, we will remember the coming of Christ Jesus into our world and into our lives, and we will pray for his Kingdom to come in its fullness. We will pray for the day when there will be no more sorrow or crying, when there will be no more illness or death, when there will be no more conflict in families or Christian communities, when there will be no more war or oppression or violence in our world.

As we wait with eagerness and hope for that great and glorious day, let us learn day by day to care for, and pray for, and encourage one another, that all might experience the love and compassion of God in this place until God’s Kingdom comes. Amen.

If so, don’t fret! Trudy is going to bring her camera this Sunday, November 18th and she will be taking professional individual, couple, and family photos during coffee hour after the morning worship service.

Please consider being a part of our photo directory so others in the congregation can get to know you and your family better.

It’ll be first come, first photographed. No appointments necessary. See you then!

After criticizing the religious leaders of his time for both a lack of humility and taking advantage of the poor, Jesus sits down near one of the offering boxes at the temple to observe as the worshippers come to make their gifts for the temple. Having watched both the rich and the poor placing their gifts in the treasury, Jesus comments that a poor widow has contributed more than anyone else because the rich people “have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”

In practical terms for the temple budget, Jesus’ statement simply isn’t true. The widow’s two coins wouldn’t have made much difference at all for the institution’s ministry. They would have represented the tiniest of drops in the biggest of buckets. The small copper coins (Greek: lepta) were the smallest coins circulated, and sixty-four “pennies” equalled one denarius, or a day’s wage.

The rich people had the resources to give more without much of a thought. They might have given a whole denarius, or maybe even more than one, and those larger offerings would have sustained religious life at the temple, feeding and clothing the religious leaders and maintaining the central place of worship for the Jewish People.

But Jesus says that the widow’s offering is greater, not because it has a larger impact on the temple’s ministry, but because it requires a larger sacrifice on her part.

Perhaps it’s like the impact of a homemade gift… Even if the store-bought present would have been both more expensive and more perfect… the homemade version took time, effort, and care. It was made with love, and that’s what makes it worth more.

Or think about it this way… You’re driving out on the highway in a terrible snow storm. The visibility gets so bad that you lose your way and end up driving off the highway and into a shallow ditch. You’re stuck, and you need help.

Two possibilities… You pull out your cell phone and call a friend with a tow truck. The friend drops what they’re doing and comes to your rescue, hooks up your car, and easily pulls you back onto the road, and then leads you back into the city.

Or, stuck there without a cell phone, you wait for a passing motorist to come to your aide. Soon someone comes along, slows, and puts on his four-way flashers as he pulls onto the shoulder.

The wind and snow continue to blow, and you wonder if he’ll be safe there with other cars continuing along the highway. But he gets out and trudges through the snow to your car.

“Are you stuck?” he asks. “Yes I am. Do you have a cell phone?” you reply.

“No, but I can push if you like.” “Are you sure? It’s pretty cold and wet out here.” “You’re right about that, but we’ve got to get you out, don’t we?”

And so he gets behind your car and pushes with all his might. He’s not a big guy, but he puts all his weight into it. And after a lot of work, your tires finally find some traction and you drive easily up onto the road. As you look back, you see that your rescuer is covered with wet snow and he’s breathing heavily from the exertion.

The still-falling snow is starting to pile up on his own vehicle, and the lights are only barely visible. You express your thanks in the best words you can find, and then both of you drive off into the storm.

The friend with a tow truck certainly offered you a gift. But the stranger with only his willingness to offer himself gave the greater gift, didn’t he?

Jesus’ comments about the poor widow and her offering only hint at a point. Maybe he’s saying that we should all be as generous as she was, giving all our resources for the benefit of the temple or the church today.

Or maybe he’s reminding us that people at different income levels will be able to give at different levels. We shouldn’t give more thanks and praise for the people who can give large amounts. But we should value the gifts of the poor ones as well. Even tiny amounts given by someone who is almost destitute represent extremely generous gifts.

Most of the commentaries notice the fact that Jesus’ point is not clear: “It’s hard to know whether Jesus’ example of the widow giving all she had should be taken as a good thing or as another condemnation of the workings of the temple,” the New Interpreter’s Study Bible questions.

Imagine a system that encourages poor widows to give their last coins for the sake of the religious leaders walking around in long robes and sitting in the places of honour at banquets! Maybe Jesus is drawing attention to an injustice. Poor widows shouldn’t be called upon to give their last coins. Or if they do, the religious leaders should at least be putting them to good use!

It’s a good practice, when reading the Gospels, not only to pay attention to the particular passage that shows up in the lectionary cycle, but to notice the stories that come immediately before and after it. Oftentimes the editors’ of the Gospels have placed the stories of Jesus in a very intentional order to make some important theological points.

In this case, just after Jesus’ comments about the widow’s offering we find him outside the temple predicting that the whole thing will soon be destroyed: As Jesus came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!” Then Jesus asked him, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another, all will be thrown down.”

Just think… the poor widow has contributed out of her poverty. She has given everything she had, all she had to live on… And the temple for which she gave her offering is going to be completely destroyed. In a short time, it will all be gone.

Looking back later, that widow might have kicked herself for giving her last two coins to the temple now lying in ruins. Or perhaps she didn’t regret her costly gift, because she may well have been the kind of person who gave without counting the cost, who lived for the sake of giving herself and her gifts for others. She couldn’t be dissuaded from giving just in case it didn’t work out, because that was just the kind of person that she was.

She was like the person who gets out of his car to push another vehicle out of the ditch even when he’s not sure that he’ll be successful.

She was like the person who sits by the bedside of her dying friend even when she has no way of knowing that her friend even knows that she’s there.

She was like the person who makes an offering to a church, not knowing whether the congregation will make it through the next ten years or even the next one year.

She was like the person who volunteers at a food bank or a soup kitchen, wondering what can be done in our society to end the need for food programs, and yet wanting to fill the need for people who are hungry right now.

She was like the Canadian Peacekeeper today, filled with questions about Canada’s role in armed conflict, and yet determined to serve in the hope that somehow his offering might contribute to a world where there is greater justice and peace for all people.

And, of course, as many reflections on this scripture text point out, the poor widow was like Jesus. Her two small copper coins represent more than money. They represent the faith-filled offering found in presenting all of who we are to God for service to the world.

This kind of offering does not ask for a guarantee of success or a measure of the effectiveness of the gift. In fact, the offering is not really calculated or counted as we might expect, because it’s not so much about the act of giving or receiving, as it is about the act of being… of living for others.

I think that must be what Jesus was pointing out with the poor widow’s offering. She offers a glimpse into what Jesus himself is about. Just as she gave all that she had, all that she had to live on for the corrupt and condemned temple establishment… Jesus is on the way to giving the whole of his life for something that is also corrupt and condemned: all of humanity, the whole world.

I can’t help but think of Cleopas and the other disciple walking away from Jerusalem after Jesus had been arrested and killed on a cross. In that moment they felt disappointed and disillusioned by what had happened to Jesus. He had committed his whole life and all his energy to building a kingdom of love and peace, healing and hope… and he ended up tortured and killed.

They had gotten excited about his mission and had committed their lives to following him, and learning his ways, and promoting his message. But it was a disaster! They had offered so much, and now it had all come crashing down.

If Jesus hadn’t come along to walk beside them on the road to Emmaus, I imagine their lives might have taken quite a different course. But he did come, and he talked with them, and walked with them, and shared a meal with them… and their eyes were opened and they recognized him. He was not dead, for he had been raised. He had given his whole life… not for nothing, but so that he could draw all people to himself.

And although we don’t know what happened to Cleopas and the unnamed disciple, we can imagine that they renewed their commitment to Jesus’ mission and ministry, and that they continued to offer themselves and their lives and their gifts to proclaim the Gospel in words and in good deeds.

There is a global, ecumenical, women’s prayer movement called “The Fellowship of the Least Coin” that has flourished since the late 1950’s. The key to the movement’s success is its simplicity. Individuals or groups may join by committing to pray for peace, justice, and reconciliation among families and communities, and worldwide. Each time a woman prays, she sets aside the least coin of her local currency as a symbol of the prayer. Women’s national groups collect the coins and send them to a central fund at the World Council of Churches in Geneva, Switzerland. The prayers offered and the least coins collected support projects for women and children around the world.

The idea for the Fellowship of the Least Coin emerged as a vision from God to Mrs. Shanti Solomon of India. She was part of the Pacific Mission Team of seven women from different countries that traveled in Asian countries after World War II. Shanti Solomon, who was refused a visa to Korea, went to the Philippines while other members of the team proceeded to Korea. While there she reflected on the experiences of their travel in the war-torn countries of Asia and was inspired to promote reconciliation, justice, and peace.

On the return of the team, she suggested that prayer could transcend every national boundary. She challenged the Christian women of Asia and the women from the Presbyterian Church of the United States to combine their efforts and resources and launch a project of justice, peace, and reconciliation on an international basis. It was to be a project of Christian prayer and positive action in which every Christian woman could participate, no matter what her economic position was. Every time a woman prayed she was to set aside a “least coin” of her currency. It was an encouragement to the women of the team to demonstrate their unity in Christian faith, regardless of their country or economic circumstances. They all accepted it as their sincere desire to express their solidarity with suffering humanity and with women of every nation.

Remembering the poor widow who offered her two small copper coins, we are invited today to offer our least coins, our prayers, and our lives for God’s good purposes in our community and our world. May God give us the gift of faith and trust to give of ourselves without counting the cost, and may God bless all that we offer to promote justice, peace, and reconciliation in our families, communities, and throughout the world. Amen.

Flute Music From Around The World:
Brenda Moats will present a concert with Gillian Lyons at St. Andrew’s at 7:30 pm on Sunday, November 4th. Tickets are $10 for adults, $8 for students/seniors. Thanks to Brenda who recently shared her musical gifts during worship at St. Andrew’s on October 29th. This concert is a wonderful opportunity to enjoy a whole evening of beautiful music with Brenda and Gillian.

The Youth Group Will Be Selling 2013 Calendars from the Presbyterian Church in Canada on Sundays during coffee hour in the lower hall. Each one costs only $3.50 and the profit goes towards our fund for Canada Youth 2014. Note: Calendars make great Christmas presents!

Want To Join The Choir For Christmas?
The St. Andrew’s choir is welcoming singers to join the choir for the Christmas season. We have already started to practice the Christmas music, but it’s not too late to join us for practices starting on Thursday, November 8^th at 7:00 pm, and continuing on Thursday evenings until the Festival of Lessons and Carols on Sunday, December 16^th at 7:30 pm. Speak to Gillian Lyons, our Music Director, if you would like to sing, and pick up an information sheet about Christmas choir practices from the entranceway table.

Be Challenged And Inspired!
Learn more about mission! Subscribe to Glad Tidings, the magazine of the Women’s Missionary Society. Glad Tidings is for everyone. It includes devotionals, stories from Presbyterian mission staff, worship materials, challenging articles, book reviews, and more, and it’s only $14.25 for an annual subscription! For more information, contact Yoka de Bruijn at 306-244-8848.

Launching The “Feed My Sheep” Project:
The Hildur Hermanson Women’s Missionary Society at St. Andrew’s is supporting Saskatoon Native Circle Ministry by sharing in the program “Feed My Sheep”. At the October Synod meeting, we invited all the Presbyterian churches in Saskatchewan to join us in this project. We now take this opportunity to encourage our community of faith here at St. Andrew’s to join us.

Donations can be made through your Sunday offering and you will receive a charitable receipt of the end at the year.  When you make a donation of $10, a paper lamb with your name on it will be posted on a display board in the church. A $25 donation will put a paper sheep on the board. Please indicate on your envelope that your donation is for “Feed My Sheep”.

The “Feed My Sheep” program will continue through 2013 to help provide food and comfort to all people who gather at the Saskatoon Native Circle Ministry.

The section of Mark’s Gospel that we have been reading from the last couple of months begins and ends with a story about Jesus healing a blind man. In today’s story from chapter 10, the man called Bartimaeus calls out to Jesus in the street. And when Jesus calls Bartimaeus to come to him, the blind man throws off his cloak, springs to his feet, and rushes to Jesus to receive an immediate and miraculous healing.

The earlier story from chapter 8 is similar, but with a few differences. It’s only a few verses, so I’ll read it for us: “Jesus and his disciples came to Bethsaida. Some people brought a blind man to Jesus and begged him to touch him. He took the blind man by the hand and led him out of the village; and when he had put saliva on his eyes and laid his hands on him, he asked him, ‘Can you see anything?’ And the man looked up and said, “I can see people, but they look like trees, walking.’ Then Jesus laid his hands on his eyes again; and he looked intently and his sight was restored, and he saw everything clearly.”

The Gospels are full of stories of healing… blind people receiving their sight, paralyzed people picking up their mats and walking, deaf people who are suddenly able to hear again, and little children being raised from near death or maybe even death itself. Mark’s Gospel has two stories about a blind man being healed, and we may wonder about why there would be such repetition. The Gospels don’t include a story about every healing that Jesus performed, so why include two stories about men with the same ailment?

But the first story is different. It stands out from many of the other stories of healing because the healing doesn’t come easily. Now that I think about it, this story may be more similar to the experiences of healing that most of us have had. It’s not easy. It’s a long process. And we need help along the way. It’s the man’s friends or family members perhaps, that bring him to Jesus for healing. And it’s Jesus himself who takes the man by the hand and leads him to the place where he will be healed.

The first try doesn’t quite work. The man can see a little bit, but the people walking around look to him like trees. It’s not until he has received a second treatment from the healer that he’s able to see clearly.

It’s important to remember that the Gospels were not written as eye witness accounts of what Jesus said and did during his life and ministry. But they were written and compiled decades later by leaders in the early Christian Churches not only to pass along the stories of Jesus’ activities in the world, but to convey some important theological points about who Jesus was and what it meant to be his followers.

And so, as we consider this story about Jesus healing a blind man… taking him by the hand and leading him to the place of healing, putting saliva on the man’s eyes and laying his hands on him, and then doing it again until the man could actually see clearly… we are invited to think about the healing that we need in our own lives.

For some of us, the healing that we need is physical. We may struggle with illness, whether acute or chronic, and we need to remember that Jesus is taking us by the hand and walking with us through the tests and the treatments, through the diets and the therapies, and the sometimes long process of recovery. A solution may not come quickly, but Jesus is with us on the journey, placing his hands upon us again and again and again if necessary.

For others among us, other kinds of healing are what we need. Healing in our relationships. Healing in our hearts, our minds, or our spirits. We need to heal from past hurts or abuses we have suffered. We need to heal from anger or resentment that is still ruling in our lives. We need to heal from feelings of guilt or regret about mistakes made or opportunities missed. Although most people may be unaware of our need for healing, the need is no less real, and Jesus is no less present with us through the process, if only we will reach out our hands to let him lead us.

But the Gospel writer is very intentional about the choice of infirmity from which the men in his stories need healing. They are blind men, and being healed will mean that they are able to see clearly. After telling the story of the blind man who, step by step, and with Jesus’ help, is able to regain his sight, the author of Mark’s Gospel goes on to tell one story after another about the spiritual blindness of Jesus’ closest followers.

It’s not that they are completely blind. After all, they have understood Jesus’ message enough that they have chosen to follow him. But they’re kind of like the blind man of chapter eight. He could see people walking around, but they kind of looked like trees walking around.

Jesus asks Peter, “Who do you say that I am?” And Peter answers, “You are the Messiah.” Yes, he understands! But then when Jesus talks about undergoing suffering, and being rejected and killed, Peter shows that he doesn’t completely understand. He doesn’t understand that following Jesus will mean denying himself, taking up his cross, and following. Those who lose their lives for the sake of the gospel will save their lives, Jesus tells him.

Up on the mountain, Jesus is transfigured before his disciple friends Peter, James, and John. Elijah and Moses appear, and Peter starts talking about building tents for everyone to stay in. He doesn’t understand what was happening, that this is a vision with a message from God about Jesus’ identity.

Next, the disciples demonstrate their lack of faith when a father brings his son to them looking for healing from an infirmity. They find themselves unable to do anything to help, but when Jesus tries, the boy is quickly healed. “Why could we not help him?” they ask. And Jesus tells them that they would have had to pray.

As they continue their journey, the disciples argue with each other along the road about which one of them is the greatest. In the context of their recent failure, one wonders why such an argument would come up, but human as they are, they each want to be the best. “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all,” Jesus teaches them. “Whoever wants to be greatest must become the servant.”

Jesus makes it quite clear… being his disciples is not easy. It’s a life-changing decision with major implications for the way that they (and we) will live our lives. Followers of Jesus are called to significant responsibility and to give up our own needs and priorities for the sake of God’s purposes and God’s priorities.

Still, like the blind man squinting around at the people who looked like trees walking about, Jesus’ disciples can’t quite see clearly yet either. James and John approach Jesus and ask him for a special favour. When Jesus comes into his glory, they want to have the places of honour with him, one at his left hand and one at his right.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” Jesus says to them. Your vision is still clouded. You’re looking for recognition and acknowledgement when you should be looking for a way to serve. “Whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.” That’s what following me will look like. You’ll see.

The author of Mark’s Gospel portrays Jesus’ disciples as rather dim. Over and over again, Jesus teaches them, and shows them, and demonstrates again and again that his way is one of service and love, humility, self-giving, and even suffering for the sake of others. And they just can’t seem to get it. They just don’t see.

But despite their human misunderstanding and spiritual blindness, God is not held back from accomplishing his purpose in Jesus Christ. And today’s story about another blind man points that out. Bartimaeus is a blind beggar sitting by the roadside who knows, unlike the disciples, that he is blind. And so he shouts out to get Jesus’ attention. The people in the crowd, maybe disciples, maybe others, try to keep Bartimaeus from getting in the way. They tell him to be quiet, but he just keeps shouting to Jesus until Jesus responds and calls Bartimaeus to come to him.

Unlike the earlier blind man who needed to be led by the hand, Bartimaeus, with just a little encouragement, throws off his cloak, springs up to his feet and makes his way quickly to Jesus. “What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asks him. “My teacher, let me see again,” he replies. “Go,” says Jesus, “Your faith has made you well.” And immediately… immediately, not step by step or bit by bit… immediately he regains his sight and follows Jesus on the way.

Sometimes I think that our understanding of Jesus and his way of life grows bit by bit and step by step as we study and reflect and strive to put our faith into action in our lives. And I think with a little scolding along the way, Jesus is fairly patient with us as we try to get our heads and our hearts around the idea that following Jesus means giving ourselves and our lives for others.

But sometimes I think we’re also called to make bold decisions and take brave steps towards Jesus so that he can work to bring healing and transformation in our lives. Like Bartimaeus threw off his cloak, we may be called today to throw away whatever habits, or patterns, or comforts are holding us back. And like Bartimaeus took those brave blind steps towards Jesus, we may be called to step out in faith to discover the new ideas, and patterns, and possibilities that God has in store for us.

The reading from Hebrews this morning assures us that Christ is able to save all those who approach God through him because he always lives to make intercession for us. It is Christ who is praying for us… who keeps on laying his hands on us again and again until we can see… and who gives us the gift of faith so we can throw off our cloaks, and go to him, and be made well.

Christ is able to save us. Christ is able to heal us. Christ is able to transform our lives so that we can live as his faithful servants according to his way of love. Thanks be to God.

For the last several weeks, our Gospel readings on Sundays have been following through the Gospel of Mark – a series of scripture texts about what it means to be a disciple or a follower of Jesus. Each text has had a unique theme or focus, but the common message proclaimed over and over by the author of the Gospel is that being a disciple is challenging.

There are forms of spirituality and perhaps even some religions that promise only peace and fulfilment, success and happiness, but Christianity is not one of them. And in the Gospel of Mark, Jesus does not sugar-coat the commitment and sacrifice required of those who would follow him and his way with their lives.

My guess is that James and John, the sons of Zebedee, were a couple of pretty great disciples. They were among the very first ones that Jesus called, just after Simon Peter and Andrew. James and John were fishermen too, and Jesus found them in their boat mending the nets: “Immediately he called them;” the Gospel tells us, “and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men and followed him.”

The brothers travelled with Jesus and the others from that time on. They listened to his teaching and struggled to understand his parables. They witnessed his miracles and wondered at his ability to bless and to heal the people they met. And then, as time went on they went out in his name to proclaim his message and perform healing miracles themselves.

At some point, Jesus gives the brothers a nickname of sorts. He calls them the “sons of thunder,” and though we don’t know how they earned the name, we get the impression that they were a force to be reckoned with.

James and John were certainly some of Jesus’ closest friends. On the day that Jesus went up a mountain and was transfigured before his disciples, it was Peter, James, and John that he brought with him to witness the strange and wonderful event. Peter and the two brothers were the ones who heard the voice of God confirming Jesus’ identity in the same words spoken at his baptism: “This is my Son, the Beloved.” And they were the ones who heard the clear instruction from God: “Listen to him!”

If Jesus had an inner circle of disciples, these men were it. And I suppose, by the time we get to today’s story, James and John are starting to look for some recognition and some acknowledgement of their status as leaders within the group.

They say to Jesus, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” They know the kind of power that Jesus has from God, and they want to benefit from it and from their special relationship with him. “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.”

When the other disciples hear about what the “sons of thunder” are asking for, they get rather upset. How can these two be asking for special privileges? Who do they think they are?

But Jesus doesn’t get upset with them. He just tries to help them to understand what it really means for them to be his disciples, what it means for them to live his way. What it doesn’t mean is privilege or prestige. Jesus himself is ridiculed and rejected and killed, and his followers will need to be prepared for a similar reception.

As the scriptures attest, Jesus does eventually end up at the right hand of God in power and glory. But he doesn’t get there by seeking power and glory for himself. He doesn’t get there by asserting his rights or highlighting his worthiness. Instead of lording it over others, he becomes a servant and gives his life for others. And that is the life that James, and John, and all who follow Jesus are called to live.

“Are you able to drink the cup that I drink?” Jesus asks. “Are you able to be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?” And the brothers say, “Yes, we are able.” Jesus baptism, and our baptism is not just about being cleansed and forgiven for our sins, though it is that. It is not just about receiving God’s blessing and the gift of the Holy Spirit in our lives, though it is that. It is not just about being grafted into the body of Christ – about belonging to the family of God – though it is that. But our baptism is an entering into the death and resurrection of Christ. It is a dying to ourselves, to our old lives, and being raised to a new life of service to God in Christ.

Our baptism is a gift and a blessing, and a wonderful assurance that we belong to God and that we are in God’s care. But it is also a call to be God’s people in the world, to live our lives in service to God’s purposes – not seeking our own glory or recognition, but humbly living our lives in service to others.

Here at St. Andrew’s, as at other Christian congregations, we gather Sunday by Sunday and at other times throughout the week to worship and to serve together, and community is built as we serve.

In a Presbyterian resource called, “Glorifying and Enjoying God” which we are using for our membership classes this month, we read this reflection on what it means to serve as Christians within the church and the community.

“The early Christians did not think of their worship as ending at the dismissal; they took their faith with them into every aspect of their lives. Their worship was translated into work and witness, and the church grew.

“Like these early Christians, we also gather together to be strengthened by our fellowship. In our worship there is opportunity to hear God speaking through scriptures, prayer, music, the sermon, and sacraments. The same connection to God can happen as we offer food to a hungry person or listen to a child who has something to tell. Worship and witness are interrelated. One leads to the other.

“In congregations, people of all ages learn to care for each other and try to demonstrate that God’s wondrous love is meant for everyone. This means that Presbyterians are active in work and worship beyond their own congregation’s activities. You will find Presbyterians involved in leading scouts, on community boards, in service groups. You will find Presbyterians running thrift shops, leading school associations, repairing appliances for seniors. You will find Presbyterians writing letters for Amnesty International, giving to Presbyterian World Service & Development, joining international coalitions. You will find Presbyterians in politics, in economics, and working to change unfair social structures. Presbyterians are socially engaged. We work in partnership with God, reflecting God’s intention for justice, peace, and love.”

As Christians who are baptized with the same baptism with which Jesus was baptized, we are called to serve. And the extra blessing is that as we serve God and God’s purposes, we gain so much as well. We gain meaning and purpose for our lives. We experience God’s blessing and God’s presence with us. We journey together as a church and share one another’s burdens as well as our joys. We grow in faith, in love, in peace, and in hope.

I would like to end by sharing a story of one Presbyterian and what it meant for her to offer her life in service:

“It was Friday evening. Thea usually had lots of energy, but tonight she was tired. She and her husband were finishing the supper dishes when Thea noticed the red light on her answering machine. She switched on the message and recognized the voice of Allison who shared with her the teaching of the Grade 7 church school class at St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church.

“’I’m terribly sorry to spring this on you at the last moment,’ Allison said, her voice cracking with laryngitis, ‘but I wonder if you would teach for me on Sunday.’

“Thea sighed. Of course she would help. After all, Allison had taught for her when she had the stomach flu. Thea thought back over the past week. There had been the usual family responsibilities, her work, the board meeting for the community justice office, the Shrove Tuesday pancake supper at the church. What a mountain of sticky plates she and the Grade 7 class had washed! Thea poured herself a cup of lemon tea and sat down to rest.

“The next day, Thea settled in her favourite chair with her church school materials. Mmmm… first Sunday in Lent. Will the kids realize that? Of course, they celebrated the beginning of Lent with the pancake supper this week… but how could she help the 12-year-old children in her class understand Lent? I know that Lent is a time to re-examine and reaffirm our identity as people baptized into Christ’s body, the church, and I know that Lent leads us to Easter, Thea thought. I know that purple is the colour for getting ready and our church uses purple all through Lent as a sign that we are getting ready for Easter.

“Then Thea had a quick flash of an idea. Why not combine those three thoughts – we celebrate being God’s people – Lent moves towards Easter – purple is the colour of Lent. ‘Now I know what to do,’ Thea said. ‘I have a big piece of heavy paper upstairs. We’ll draw a calendar of this and next month. We’ll mark on 40 days – the 40 days of Lent. Then we’ll talk about the things we can do in Lent to express our care and concern for others. Every time we think of something to do together as God’s people, we’ll glue a square of purple paper on one of the days of our calendar. I wonder how many we could fill by Easter. Every Sunday we’ll read the stories leading up to Easter. Then we’ll talk about more ‘purple projects’ we can do during the week.’

“’We might be able to provide something for the food bank,’ Thea said. ‘The staff told me they need fruit juice. Maybe we could collect cans of grape juice. Purple juice.’ Thea chuckled to herself.

“Thea was beginning to feel new energy. Maybe I could even wear that new purple blouse I bought last week. I wonder if the kids would get excited about wearing purple t-shirts all through Lent?

“And she ran upstairs to look for construction paper. Purple, of course.”

May God help us to discern the ways that we are being called to offer our lives in service. May God give us the energy we need to do God’s will, and the joy that comes from being a part of God’s good purposes.

The author of the Book of Hebrews understood the power of God’s Word and the challenge of the call to discipleship. She wrote: “Indeed, the word of God is living and active, sharper than a two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And before God no creature is hidden, but all are naked and laid bare to the eyes of the one to whom we must render an account.”

I wonder… when friends or colleagues ask you about your faith, when they ask you why you come to church, or why you read the bible, what do you say?

Do you tell them that the Word of God is a comfort and encouragement to your soul? Do you tell them that coming to church lifts your spirits and helps you to know that you are loved? Do you tell them that reading the bible brings peace into your heart, especially when you read favourite passages like “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want”?

I wonder… have you ever described the Word of God as the author of Hebrews did? The bible is like a two-edged sword piercing my life, separating the bad from the good, the failure from the possibility, the lost opportunities from the mission and ministry in which I am called to participate today. Have you ever explained that the Word of God is like a judge over your life… evaluating, correcting, directing, and re-directing your values and priorities and activities.

I don’t know if that kind of description would encourage many friends to pick up the bible or many colleagues to give life in the Christian community a try. But it would be a little more honest about what the life of faith involves than some of our invitations might be.

Can you imagine Jesus, calling disciples, saying “Come and follow me. It won’t be a big change, not to worry. We’ll learn to pray, and we’ll sing some hymns, and we’ll take care of each other and remember that we are loved. Oh, and when we don’t have a potluck supper, we almost always have coffee and cookies with our gatherings. Come and follow me. You’ll probably make some new friends.”

It sounds strange, doesn’t it? Because Jesus didn’t try to sell the life of discipleship by explaining all the positive benefits. Instead, he was quite clear about what the cost would be to the follower.

You’ll leave your stuff behind. You’ll leave your life behind. Everything will be completely different, and you’ll be led by God’s will, and God’s priorities, and God’s intentions for your life.

One day a man ran up to Jesus and asked him, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” And Jesus said, “You know the commandments; ‘You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; Honour your father and mother.’”

And the man told Jesus that he was already keeping all these commandments. And Jesus, looking at him, loved him.

I love that part. Jesus, looking at him, loved him. And so, because he loved him, he told the man the one thing that he lacked. “Go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”

I think there are at least two important principles that we can learn from this text about what it means to be a disciple of Christ. The first one is pretty simple and straightforward. We need to give from what we have to help the poor.

As Jesus once said, the poor will always be with us, and that is certainly true today with severe poverty, malnutrition, and homeless in many parts of the world, and even terrible poverty and need right here in our own city.

The church has always played an important role in helping the poor, and we must not forget the importance of that continuing ministry. In today’s bulletin, there are some facts about poverty in Canada which I would invite you to read and consider.

One in ten children in Canada, and one in four children in Aboriginal families grows up in poverty. Those living in poverty include new immigrants, single mothers, people who are working but receiving low wages, people with disabilities, the elderly on fixed incomes, and those who must rely on welfare for their income.

The use of food banks increases every year in Canadian cities, and the need for homeless shelters grows each winter. There are more and more children who need food programs at school because their families run out of food for breakfasts and lunches on a regular basis.

October 17 is the International Day for the Eradication of Poverty, and here in Saskatoon the Anti-Poverty Coalition is marking Poverty Awareness Week with a number of learning opportunities, community meals, and awareness raising gatherings. Participating in events like these not only opens our eyes to the problems and challenges related to poverty in our city, but it also shows our support, encouragement, and prayers for those who are personally affected by poverty and who may feel very isolated and alone.

In a resource from “Citizens for Public Justice” the question is asked “What can we do about poverty in Canada?” and several possibilities are suggested:

1. We can listen to the experiences of people living in poverty and educate ourselves about its root causes. We can do that this week by taking part in one or more of the Poverty Awareness Week events.
2. We can partner with groups that are working for systemic change, such as the Presbyterian Church in Canada’s Justice Ministries, Citizens for Public Justice, or Dignity for All: The Campaign for a Poverty-Free Canada.
   Today, in the entranceway of the church, we have cards about “Dignity for All,” including post cards that you can fill in and return to the organization. This is one way to add your voice to their campaign to encourage the federal government to make a plan, and to act on a plan to put an end to poverty in Canada. If you fill in the card and mail it in, you’ll also get updates from the organization about their work and ways that you can continue to support such initiatives.
3. Another thing we can do is talk to our elected officials (as well as those running for office) and ask them what they intend to do about poverty in our city or our country.
4. We can encourage each other, as committed Christians, to engage with these issues and get involved.
5. And, of course, we can pray. We can pray for those who are poor and suffering. We can pray for the wisdom and the will needed to reduce poverty and its negative effects on children, families, and seniors. We can pray for those in positions of setting public policy and advocating for the development of a society where there is dignity for all.

It seems to me that caring for the poor would definitely be high on Jesus’ priority list. He told the rich man to sell all his possessions and give the money to the poor. But I think that Jesus told the man to do it, not so much to help the poor, but to help the man himself.

The man came running to Jesus, looking for the way to eternal life. He wanted to be right with God. He wanted to be saved. He wanted the things that many of us want… the things that we come looking for, that we hope to find in our faith, in the church, in the Scriptures.

And from the urgency of the request, I get the impression that the man was quite sincere. He really wanted to know from the good Teacher what he must do, and he was ready to do a lot. He already followed all the commandments, and that’s quite a tall order. Not many of us manage to do even that very well.

And Jesus, looking at the man… looking at the man who was asking for guidance, looking at the man who needed to know the way… Jesus, looking at the man, loved him, and told him the one thing that he lacked: “Go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”

What he lacked was the complete giving up of his life for the life that Jesus was calling him to follow. What he lacked was a complete trust in God, rather than a trust in riches and things for security. This man may have mastered the job of following the rules, but what he hadn’t been ready to do yet was to give himself completely to the will of God.

I know, it’s a lot to ask. And it inevitably raises the question as to whether Jesus is calling us to do something as radical as selling all our possessions. Can we be followers of Jesus if we keep some things and some comforts and some security? I think we can, and I think we are. But we cannot be Christians if we are not willing to hear the call of Jesus day by day, and week by week… the call that is encouraging us to leave our things behind, to give to the poor, to follow Jesus with our lives and let our priorities and our decisions be shaped by his will and his way.

Like the rich man in the story, we probably won’t sprint home to sell all our stuff and give the money to the poor. And the magnitude of what we may be asked to give up may make us sad at times, as he was.

But, you know, I’ve always assumed when reading this story that the rich man did not end up as a follower of Jesus. The Gospel says that first “he was shocked” and then “he went away grieving, for he had many possessions.” But we don’t know what happened to him after that. We don’t know if he went back to his house to console himself with good food and the comforts of home. We don’t know if he went home and looked at all his things with completely new eyes. We don’t know the rest of this man’s journey with God, and there is certainly a possibility that his journey continued with Jesus as his Lord and Saviour.

After the man went away that day, Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!… It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”

The disciples were greatly astounded and said to one another, “Then who can be saved?” Jesus looked at them (probably with as much love as he had shown for the rich man) and he said, “For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.”

Yes, the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And before God no creature is hidden, but all are naked and laid bare to the eyes of the one to whom we must render an account…

God knows us completely. And God judges us strictly. And God calls us to love more, and to give more, and to live more fully for God’s good purposes.

But, as the author of Hebrews also assures us… We do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

We may have a long way to go before we are ready to sell all that we own and give the money to the poor, and the idea of such full and complete commitment to Jesus may seem impossible for us. But it’s not impossible for God.

“Oooooooo…
Here is a little song I wrote.
You might want to sing it note for note.
Don’t worry. Be happy.

In every life we have some trouble.
When you worry you make it double.
Don’t worry. Be happy.

The land lord say your rent is late.
He may have to litigate.
Don’t worry. Be happy.

Ain’t got no place to lay your head.
Somebody came and took your bed.
Don’t worry. Be happy.”

About half way through the sermon on the mount, after more than a chapter of teaching about the challenging way of discipleship that Jesus’ followers are called to live, Jesus tells his disciples not to worry: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.”

Can we put ourselves in the shoes of those earliest disciples? Can we imagine what they might have been thinking as Jesus told them not to worry? Some of them had dropped their nets, their jobs, their livelihoods in order to go out on the road with him. And they had left their families, their communities, and their networks of support behind as well. He had called them to a life of risk and uncertainty, and now he is telling them not to worry. Don’t worry about food. Don’t worry about clothing. Trust God to provide you with what you need.

It all sounds a little irresponsible, doesn’t it? Don’t worry, be happy?

I mean, the Presbyterian Church in Canada doesn’t send people out on mission trips without making sure that things are organized and in place. We don’t want our missionaries to get sick, or hungry, or lost, or hurt when they go out to share the love of God in word or in action. And it’s the same with our churches. We set a budget for the year, and we do ministry and mission within our means. If we feel called to do something new, or if some special need arises, we check to see where it fits in the budget, or we ask for special gifts for that need. We usually don’t just do it and trust that God will provide.

For example, last spring St. Andrew’s was asked by the Camp Christopher Committee if we could provide some extra funding for camp shirts for every child and youth that would attend camp this summer. When our Session received the request, most of us thought that it was a pretty good idea. For about $10 each, we could provide a camp shirt for every child, ensuring that those whose families wouldn’t have extra money for buying shirts would get one as well, and providing some great advertising for the camp during the year whenever the kids wore their camp shirts.

We agreed that this would be a good thing for St. Andrew’s to do as an additional part of our mission. But rather than simply writing a cheque and trusting that the money would come from somewhere, we invited folks to make special donations for the shirts. There was a wonderful response to the request, generous donations were made, and with our gifts the camp was able to provide camp shirts for every child and youth this summer.

Now, I’m not criticizing the Session and their decision to invite special donations for this project rather than to commit to the full amount and take the risk as to whether enough donations would come in. Because, in fact, our church takes on a certain amount of risk all the time.

We set a budget for the year. We spend money according to that budget on staffing, programs, materials, and the church building itself. And we trust that the members and adherents of our church will be generous and give towards our ministry and mission. We don’t get the money in advance and then start doing our ministry. We don’t even ask for promises or pledges from our members, indicating that they will give a certain amount during the year.

We set a budget for giving, and we ask for congregational approval of that budget. And then we just do it. We engage in the ministry and mission that God has called us to do, and we trust that God will provide through the generosity and faithfulness of God’s people.

There are many congregations, both in the Presbyterian Church in Canada and in other Christian denominations, that are struggling with the risks associated with continuing their ministry and mission. When congregations are rapidly aging and simultaneously shrinking in size there often comes a time when meeting an ever-increasing budget with a smaller group of supporters becomes almost impossible.

As we celebrate Thanksgiving Sunday today, we might want to pause and give thanks for the fact that our congregation is not in that position, even as we continue to pray for those congregations in our denomination and others that are facing difficult decisions about how best to serve God and their communities with the limited resources that they have.

But Jesus’ message for his first disciples, for struggling congregations, and for us today is not as simple as “Don’t worry. Be happy.” I don’t think he’s suggesting that we should take irresponsible risks or just ignore our problems or challenges, pretending that everything’s a-okay and being happy.

But I think that Jesus is reminding us that following his way of life will undoubtedly include taking on some risk. Engaging in ministry and mission as a congregation and as individuals will include some uncertainty about the future. But we can’t get stuck worrying about everything.

We can’t let all our time and attention get sucked up with worrying about the budget. We can’t let all our energy get used up on worrying about the numbers and what’s going to happen next month or next year. And that doesn’t mean that we don’t make plans. But we don’t let making plans steal away all our energy from doing ministry and mission right now, right here, today.

Jesus said: “Strive first for the kingdom of God and God’s righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”

Within our church, there are many ministries. There are ministries of music and preaching. There are sacramental ministries of baptism and holy communion. There are ministries of prayer and pastoral care. There are ministries of education. There are ministries of outreach and care for the poor. There are ministries of hospitality and fellowship. There are ministries of stewardship and administration. But there are no ministries of worrying.

As Jesus said, worrying cannot add a single hour to our span of life. Nor can worrying add a single dollar to our budget or a single person to our church community. As one person commented during a bible study on this text earlier this week, what worrying does do is it immobilizes us.

Imagine the first disciples worrying about how they will survive out on the road with Jesus. What will they eat? What will they wear? Where will they sleep? What will they do if people don’t accept their message? If Jesus’ disciples had gotten caught up in worrying, they probably would have decided to stay home and the good news of the kingdom of God coming to us in Jesus the Christ would never have been shared.

When we allow ourselves to get caught up in worrying something similar happens. We may not notice the impact of that immobilization right away. After all, we already have churches set up. We already have bibles printed and distributed in most of the languages of the world. We already have about 2 billion Christians worldwide.

But when we get worried, we start focussing in on ourselves, guarding our resources for the future, just in case… And when we get really worried, when all our energy starts to go towards worrying, it keeps us from doing the ministries that we are called to do.

Jesus does not call us to irresponsibility. But he does call us to be good stewards of the gifts with which God has blessed us. He says, “Strive first for the kingdom of God and God’s righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”

We must make doing God’s ministry and mission our first priority, rather than getting caught up in worrying about our own needs. We must trust that God will provide for us as we give ourselves, our lives, our gifts, and our church for the sake of God’s mission in the world.

After all, we are striving to follow the way of Jesus, and that is the way that he lived. Jesus gave himself… his time, his care, his life for the sake of God’s mission in the world. He was not immobilized by worry or fear, but he stepped out in faith to share God’s love and risk the rejection and hatred and violence that came back at him.

Remembering Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane before his arrest and crucifixion, we may be reminded of what he risked and what he gave so that he could love us to the very end. And though for a time it may have appeared that his risk-taking was in vain… that hatred and violence had won out over love and self-giving… in the end, God’s love was more powerful that all the evil in the world. God raised Christ from death and gave him a place at God’s own right hand.

Jesus gave up his own self-interest, his own needs, his own power in order to put God’s purposes, God’s love, and God’s mission first. And all these things were given to him as well.

May God give us the courage and the love to follow Jesus’ way in our lives and in our church, that God’s kingdom may come on earth as it is in heaven. Amen

Sunday, October 7th will be Thanksgiving Sunday and World Communion Sunday. Come and celebrate the grace and goodness of God together with your church family at 11:00 am. If you have family visiting for the long weekend, bring them along! Everyone is most welcome!

We’re Putting Together A New Church Photo Directory! Professional photo sittings will take place over several days beginning October 13^th. To schedule your sitting, see Donna Brown following worship on Sundays.  Donna will make sure everyone books a sitting, so if you don’t go to her, she’ll contact you! (Note: You will have an opportunity to purchase your photo file from the photographer. Photos make great Christmas gifts!)

How Is Your Reading Going? St. Andrew’s Reading Challenge is well underway, so if you haven’t chosen a book yet, take time to explore the church library today.

If you normally sit on the pulpit side of the church, you are a Pulpit Pupil. If you sit on the lectern side of the church, you are a Lectern Learner. To earn one point for your team, read a book of the Bible, a library book, or another theological, pastoral, or devotional book. Then fill out a card and tape it on the Bristol board on your side of the church. Take home a book today, get reading, and help your team to win the Reading Challenge!

You have until Sunday, October 21^st to read and earn points for your team. Then come out to the Bible Jeopardy Challenge and potluck supper at 4:00 pm on October 21^st. Just showing up will earn your team an extra point!

Rev. Amanda Will Be Offering church membership classes from Sunday, October 14^th to November 11^th, 12:30-1:30 pm. The classes are an opportunity for you to explore your faith, learn about what it means to be a Presbyterian, and prepare to profess your faith, be baptized, and become a member of the church.

The classes are open to anyone from grade 9 to adults. If you are new to our church community, or if you have never formally become a member, or if you just want to explore your faith a little more you’re welcome to join us. Please speak to Rev. Amanda for more information.

The Synod of Saskatchewan will be meeting at St. Andrew’s on Friday and Saturday, October 19-20. We will have a public worship service including a celebration of Holy Communion on Friday, October 19th at 7:00 pm, and everyone is welcome to join us. The sermon will be preached by the outgoing Moderator of Synod, the Rev. Bradley Childs, minister at First Presbyterian Church in Regina.

All through this past week I’ve been reflecting on the scripture readings set by the Revised Common Lectionary for today. I’ve read them over in my own private devotions, shared about them in meetings, heard them reflected on by a colleague at our Parish Nurse training sessions this weekend, and even preached on them myself at Presbytery on Friday morning. But it took me until Friday night before I remembered the first time that I preached on Mark 9 and Proverbs 31 together.

It was nine years ago to the week, and it was my first visit to St. Andrew’s and the first time I preached a sermon in this pulpit. I was preaching for the call to join the team ministry here, and I thought it was pretty funny that on the day I was being considered for this call the scriptures included an argument between the disciples about who was the greatest and a section from the proverbs beginning “a capable woman, who can find?”

I was grateful that it wasn’t actually a competition that day – that you weren’t deciding whether or not I was the greatest – but just discerning whether I was the one being called by God to minister with and among you.

The fact is that competition is all around us. Despite the fact that I grew up in the era when we were exploring “co-operative games,” when children were encouraged to work together, and winning and losing were de-emphasized, I, (like most people) can easily become caught up in competition.

Even ministers can find themselves competitively comparing our congregations or feeling proud when our sermons seem to inspire and encourage those who listen. So I think that perhaps all of us can become enthralled with the question of “Who is the greatest?”

Who won the Gold Medal?     – at the Olympics, or at the church picnic relay race… Who is the smartest?- who got the best grades, or knows the most trivia… Who has the most prestigious job, or the highest salary? Who has the perfect family, the most well-behaved children or grandchildren, the most loving spouse? Indeed, the CE Committee is making the most of the fact that people are competitive by putting our competitive spirits to good work, reading as many books as we can.

Nine years ago, thousands of young people across the country stood in line for hours, waiting to audition to become the very 1st Canadian Idol. They wanted to see if they could be crowned the greatest, the best singer, the best performer, the most alluring personality and stage presence.

I know it wasn’t really a new phenomenon. There was “Star Search”, and there have been beauty pageants and Game Shows for years. And yet, the IDOL shows seemed to bring the competition and the false idolatry to a new level. The crowds of screaming fans for the finalists became quite literally and openly “idol worshippers,” as people across the country phoned or texted in their votes to determine “Who is the Greatest?”

And as a few young singers were raised up to the status of “IDOL,” others were rejected, and their dreams of stardom were crushed.

One idol-hopeful even wrote a song for her audition, begging the judges and Canadian voters to “choose her”. “Choose me. Choose me,” she sang, “Canada, can’t you see me as your Canadian idol?” “Choose me.”

As the disciples walked along the road arguing with each other about who was the greatest, they were walking away from a series of failures. Like the young people who found themselves among the rejected singers, the disciples had failed to show their talent when put to the test.

A woman had asked them to free her son from a demon that was tormenting him. And though they had tried, they couldn’t exorcise the demon. When they asked Jesus about their failure, he told them that they would have had to pray. They would have had to pray to get rid of the demon. So they had failed to do the most obvious thing – to pray for the boy.

And then, Jesus had told them, for the second time, that he would be betrayed, and killed, and then rise again. And the disciples had failed to understand. They didn’t know what he was on about, and in their confusion, they were afraid to ask. Maybe they were afraid of sounding stupid.

Maybe they were afraid of more failure. But even after all this failure, after all this confusion… We see them arguing as they go along the road about which one of them is the greatest.

“You’ve seen him handing out bread and fish to the crowds. You’ve seen him going door-to-door & in the streets, proclaiming that all should repent. You’ve seen him right by the side of Jesus, the teacher. He’s the one that Jesus himself nick-named “ROCK.” If you think that St. Peter is headed for stardom, If you think that St. Peter is the greatest disciple, cast your vote by calling 1-866-943-ROCK. And make St. Peter the first ever – Galilean IDOL!

Our Old Testament reading today, from the book of Proverbs, provides a wonderful description of a woman that you might say could be among the greatest. The passage is often called the “Ode to a capable wife,” and she’s referred to as the “wise woman of Proverbs 31.” But I like to think of it as the “Song of Superwoman.”

She’s wise and hard-working. She’s skilled and she makes wise investments. She plans ahead and she’s strong. She takes good care of her family, and doesn’t forget the poor either. Everyone loves her and praises all her accomplishments – both her spouse & her children & everyone else. “Many women have done excellently,” her husband says to her, “But you surpass them all.” And like the icing on the cake, this superwoman does not seem to have become conceited at all. She’s not concerned with beauty or charm, but she fears the Lord.

This woman must win the prize, and perhaps the description of her is what we should all be striving to be like. She’s not striving for her own glory. She’s doing it all for others. If we could be like her, we’d be among the greatest of Christians. Hard working. Thinking of others first. Never complaining. Taking care of our loved ones. Taking care of anyone who needs help. Fearing God.

And this is not the only model in the Bible that shows us how to live well in the way that God wants us to. Proverbs and other wisdom literature like Job, Ecclesiastes, James, and bits and pieces of many other books give practical advice on how to live wisely and righteously.

They teach the reader how to follow the righteous way instead of the foolish or wicked way – just the kind of advice we need in order to take our places among the great ones… With the superwoman of Proverbs 31, with the wise King Solomon, with the perfect husband and father, Job, and with the great saints of the Christian Church.

When Jesus heard about the disciples’ argument along the road about which of them was the greatest, he called them all together and he sat down on the ground. That was the typical posture for a teacher in Biblical times. He sat down on the ground, and as he did so, they knew that he had something important to tell them – something important to teach them.

And Jesus said: “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” Whoever wants to be first – to be greatest – must be last. That crazy, upside-down, “turn everything on its head” logic of our Lord.

And so, going back to the “Song of Superwoman”     we might try to emulate her because she certainly made herself a servant of all… Servant of her family, of her community, and of anyone who needed her.

But when I read about the superwoman, it makes me feel tired. Perhaps some of you feel that way too. Perhaps you feel that way when it seems like your job as a Christian, as a parent, or as a community member, is to become a superwoman, or superman, or super-Xian. When you’re being pulled in too many directions at once. When you’re overwhelmed with all the responsibilities that you’ve taken on – with work and family and church committees and community boards. And you can’t slip up, or forget an appointment or a birthday. You’ve always got to think ahead and make wise decisions.

The fact is, though we may be striving for super-Xian status, not many of us are able to pull it off, at least not for very long. As much as I may want to be superwoman – for my family, for my church, for my community, I just can’t do it. And I don’t know anyone who can.

And so I wonder why the writers of Proverbs would put before us this example of the wise woman. Certainly it can’t be just for us to try to emulate her, and then to feel the disappointment of failure after failure.

But as I think about this wise woman, I am reminded of another wise woman that I’ve read about in the Bible. Unless you’ve been reading the wisdom books, you may not have encountered her.

She’s called, “Woman Wisdom” and you find her at the beginning of the book of Proverbs calling out in the streets to both the foolish and the wise, offering guidance and advice, offering knowledge and help to walk in the way of God.

You also find her in some of the Deuterocanonical books – the ones we don’t have in our bible, but that are in Roman Catholic bibles. There, it becomes quite clear that Woman Wisdom is so much more than a human woman who’s really hard-working and really competent.

Listen to this description of her from the Wisdom of Solomon: (7:22-b-26)

There is in her a spirit that is intelligent, holy, unique, manifold, subtle, mobile, clear, unpolluted, distinct, invulnerable, loving the good, keen, irresistible, beneficent, humane, steadfast, sure, free from anxiety, all-powerful, overseeing all, and penetrating through all spirits that are intelligent, pure, and altogether subtle. For wisdom is more mobile than any motion; because of her pureness she pervades and penetrates all things. For she is a breath of the power of God, and a pure emanation of the glory of the Almighty; therefore nothing defiled gains entrance into her. For she is a reflection of eternal light, a spotless mirror of the working of God, and an image of his goodness.

What becomes clear is that this is not a description of a really wise person. In fact, it is a description of God. God is the wise woman of Proverbs 31 who takes care of her family, who doesn’t forget the poor, who always thinks ahead, making wise decisions, and who works without pause for rest, all for the sake of her children and her husband, who in turn, give her praise and glory.

So perhaps we don’t need to worry when we can’t live up to the Superwoman image, because the Superwoman is God.

Turning back to the Gospel of Mark, it becomes evident that the same men and women who went on to start the first Christian churches, those same people who guided the churches through their early development, and through their struggle to survive and flourish, spent most of their time with Jesus in confusion, disbelief, and failure to follow his example.

These men and women, whom the Church would come to revere as saints, were not supermen, superwomen, or super-Xians. They didn’t always work hard. They weren’t the smartest or the wisest, and they certainly weren’t loved and praised by their families and friends.

The disciples did not need to argue about which one of them was the greatest. They didn’t need to get down on their knees and beg each other, or the crowds, or Jesus to choose them. “Choose me. Choose me as your Galilean IDOL.” They didn’t need to compete for a place of greatness in Jesus’ eyes or for a special place in the Kingdom of God. Because Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” And he didn’t just proclaim it as a rule for them to live by, he actually lived it himself.

Jesus became the servant of all. Jesus made himself last of all – giving his every breath, every minute, every effort for others… healing the sick, feeding the hungry, teaching and showing the way.

Despite the fact that Jesus had just told his disciples that he would soon be killed, they still didn’t understand how much he would give himself for them – for us.

“Woman Wisdom” – the Wisdom of God – the image of one who lives wisely and righteously, giving her life in order to serve others. “Jesus” – the Word of God made flesh in the world makes himself last of all and servant of all.

By looking at his life and his death, we can find the perfect model of servanthood to emulate – much like the Superwoman of Proverbs 31. But when we come to know him, when we come to realise and accept the great gift that was his life & death & resurrection, we can live in the freedom of knowing that we are loved and accepted by God even though we are not super-Christians.

Christ is the First and the Last. Christ is the Greatest King and the Servant of all. May we strive to live like him, and when we fail, may we rest in his love. Amen.

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of all our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.

Preachers and teachers need prayers like that one, taken from the final verse of Psalm 19. I remember my preaching professor in seminary telling us that the high pulpits in many churches should serve as a reminder to preachers of the magnitude of the task that we are called to. When we approach one of those pulpits, and make our way up the steps, we should do so in fear and trembling, he said, praying that God will give us the words to speak.

Our pulpit here is not so high, not like the one I saw years ago in St. Peter’s Cathedral in Geneva where John Calvin once preached. It has a full spiral staircase with about ten steps to climb… plenty of time to think about what the preacher is about to do… plenty of time to ask for God’s help. But even as I make my way across from the lectern to the pulpit here on Sunday mornings, I’m praying something similar because I know that words matter, and I know that I’m human and I can’t always come up with the right ones on my own.

The Book of James warns us, “Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers and sisters, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness. For all of us make mistakes.” Most people have pretty high expectations of sermons and lectures and speeches. I know I do when I’m a listener. We expect to be informed. We want to be encouraged. We hope to be inspired. And we definitely don’t want to get bored!

It’s not just about the words though. Preachers know that too. The delivery matters as well… whether we come off as arrogant know-it-alls, or whether we are preaching with humility and sincerity. And if we don’t practice what we preach, or at least try to practice it, then our credibility goes out the window. They call us hypocrites who lord it over others, but do not practice the faith ourselves.

Over the last couple of days I spent some time at the InterChurch Health Ministries Parish Nurse Training Program. A group from St. Andrew’s including Laura, our Pastoral Care Nurse, three members of the Pastoral Care Committee, and I are beginning our second year of the Parish Nurse Training program. And one of the sessions that we had yesterday was on the topic of communication.

The session was led by a psychologist with lots of training and experience in counselling, and the principles he was teaching were readily applicable to our experience as friendly visitors, as health counsellors, and as spiritual supports. We were encouraged to think critically about our use of technical language – whether religious language or medical language – that may or may not be understood. And we reviewed techniques for active listening that will assist us in hearing and caring for people appropriately.

It was a good reminder to me that our words really matter. And not just in preaching and teaching. Our words matter in one-on-one conversations, in phone calls, and in the content of our emails or text messages. Because, as James warns, our tongues have great power. We can use our words to cause pain or shame or anger. Or we can use our words to bless, to heal, and to encourage. “This ought not to be so,” James laments, but “From the same mouth come blessing and cursing.”

The same mouth that praises God on Sunday morning swears at the neighbourhood teen who painted a tag on the back fence. The same mouth that whispers, “I love you” to a child before bed utters demeaning words to a poor employee at work. The same mouth that prays for strength and healing for a sick friend passes on gossip about the acquaintance who is supposedly having trouble in her marriage. The same mouth that preaches about being quick to listen and slow to speak snaps defensively when a criticism comes her way. This ought not to be so. It’s like a spring that pours forth from the same opening both fresh and contaminated water. But it is the reality of our human condition.

Years ago when I took my first counselling course, I was nearly overwhelmed by the pressure of thinking what to say and what not to say. In those early practice sessions, I remember being terribly nervous that I was going to say something inappropriate. And so, while the person was speaking, I was thinking about what I might say next. While they were sharing their feelings or their problem with me, I was worrying about how I was going to respond.

And so, the most important thing that I had to learn was not any of the specific counselling techniques. It was quite simply the priority of attentive listening. I had to stop thinking about and worrying about what I would say so that I could truly listen to what was being said to me. And that is something that I need to keep practicing all the time.

This week’s Gospel text is one that I’ve read and studied countless times before. But in studying it this week, side by side with the warning from James about the power of our tongues, I noticed something new. The scene takes place about half way through Mark’s Gospel when Jesus decides to check in with his closest followers and find out how people are understanding and reacting to his ministry. He asks them, “Who do people say that I am?” And they answer him, “John the Baptist, and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.”

So most of the people aren’t understanding who Jesus is, but what about his own disciples, his closest companions? “Who do YOU say that I am?” Jesus asks. And seemingly without a moment’s hesitation, Peter replies, “You are the Messiah.” So Peter, at least, knows that Jesus is the Christ, the one they’ve all been waiting for, the one who will save the people of Israel and bring about the new kingdom. Even today we hope to share Peter’s confidence and his assurance as we profess our own faith.

But the line in the text that we sometimes ignore is Jesus’ response to Peter’s profession. The Gospel records, “And Jesus sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him.” Huh? Aren’t we supposed to be preaching the good news? Aren’t we supposed to be opening our mouths to proclaim to the world that Jesus is Lord? But Jesus “sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him.”

One classic interpretation assumes that Peter’s answer is correct, but that others in the community are not ready to hear it. Jesus is likely pleased that Peter understands his true identity as the Messiah, but he doesn’t want Peter blabbing about it too wildly because that kind of claim could get Jesus into trouble a little sooner than would be helpful. Jesus has a lot more ministry yet to do, and if Peter starts telling everyone that Jesus is the Messiah, Jesus might get arrested and killed before completing his work. “Be quiet about this for now,” this Jesus is warning, “Let’s not get everyone too riled up before we have to.”

But one commentator I read suggested an alternative interpretation: When Peter calls Jesus “Messiah” he may have the right title but the wrong understanding of what the title means for Jesus. If this interpretation is correct, Jesus may be warning Peter not to go off half-cocked with his grand proclamation of Jesus’ Messiahship. Jesus may want Peter to spend a little more time listening before he starts preaching or teaching what he thinks he knows.

And then Jesus began to teach his disciples “that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.” This, of course, was not the kind of future that Peter had in mind for a Messiah, and so he objected: “Suffering and rejection and death? Don’t say that sort of thing! You’re the Messiah, you’ll be triumphant!”

“Quiet, Peter. You need to listen. You need to try to understand me.” And Jesus continued to teach them: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.”

Later on in the Gospel, Jesus will send out Peter and the others to teach and to heal in his name. And after his death and resurrection, he will send them out in the power of the Holy Spirit to preach the gospel to the ends of the earth.

So Peter is transformed. He changes from a man who says such wrong things that Jesus shouts at him: “Get behind me, Satan!” He changes from a man who was ashamed and scared enough to say, “I do not know the man” to those who later asked about his connection to Jesus. He changes from a man who spoke misguided and self-centered words to a man who spoke the words of God, who preached to the people of Jerusalem of the love and grace of God in Jesus Christ so that their lives too could be transformed.

The tongue is a powerful thing. “With it we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse those who are made in the likeness of God. From the same mouth come blessing and cursing.” May God give us wisdom to listen carefully both to one another and to Jesus our Lord. And may God guide us and our words as we open our mouths to profess our faith and to tell the good news. May we learn to speak God’s words of blessing, of truth, and of hope with humility and sincerity.

Worship on Sunday, September 9th will be a family-friendly service (without a long, boring sermon)!

The Christian Education Committee will be introducing a Library Reading Challenge. Just for fun we’re going to have a competition between the two sides of the church (based on where you usually sit on Sundays) – the Pulpit Pupils and the Lectern Learners! We’ll see who can read the most Bible books and books from our church library by Sunday, October 21st when we’ll finish up with a Bible Jeopardy Challenge and Pot Luck Supper at 4 pm. We’ll have a lot of fun and do some reading and learning too!

After church this Sunday, we’ll have a Church School Teacher orientation. This session is for both new and returning teachers, and Matt is still looking for a few more teachers and teaching assistants, so talk to him for more details or just join us at the orientation if you’re interested in serving in this way.

Sunday Morning Bible Study for adults will resume on Sunday, September 16th. Everyone is welcome to join us for bible study, whether you can attend every week or only occasionally. Use the parking lot side door, and stop by the kitchen for coffee before joining the group in the parlour at 9:30 am. Topics for September and October will be based on the Sunday lectionary readings.

Church School classes will begin again on Sunday, September 16th following the children’s message in church. The classes are for children age 3 – grade 1, grades 2-4, and grades 5-8.

The Youth Group will have their first meeting of the Fall Season on Sunday, September 16th at 7 pm. All youth from grade 7 -12 are invited. Speak to Matt Pelerine for more details.

What does it mean to be a person of faith, a religious person, a spiritual person, or a member of the church? These are questions that I encounter and find myself discussing on a regular basis. From people outside the church, I’m often asked, “Why do people still go to church? What do they get out of it?” And with those inside the church – especially those who are actively engaged in leadership and decision-making – the discussion is usually around the question of what is most important in our faith. What is the foundation of our faith? What are the essential practices? What must we continue and emphasize, and what are the small “t” traditions that we can let go of at times as we move along with a rapidly-changing world.

As I read and reflected on the scripture readings assigned for today in our lectionary, it was these questions about the meaning and significance of our faith and religious practice that were swirling through my head. Because each of today’s texts contributes some significant ideas to such a discussion, helping us to answer for ourselves and for our neighbours when they ask: “What is our religion really about?”

Let’s begin with the Gospel. What better place to begin than with what Jesus said about it? It’s important to remember that Jesus was a religious man. He was a faithful Jewish person who studied the Torah and worshipped in the synagogue and, during the great festivals, at the temple in Jerusalem. His ministry arose out of the context of a religious community who worshipped the One God of Israel and engaged in religious practice as best they could.

But as Jesus’ ministry progressed, as he gathered a following of disciples and began to teach them and lead them in new ways of faith and life, some within his own religious community began to question his priorities and practices. To some it seemed that this Jesus and his followers were not living properly religious lives. They were abandoning the traditions and practices of the faith and they needed to be challenged.

Our passage from Mark provides us with a little bit of background about Jewish practices of the time: “The Pharisees, and all the Jews, do not eat unless they thoroughly wash their hands, thus observing the tradition of the elders; and they do not eat anything from the market unless they wash it; and there are also many other traditions that they observe, the washing of cups, pots, and bronze kettles.”

Some of the Pharisees and scribes, religious leaders of the time, notice that some of Jesus’ disciples were eating with defiled hands, that is, without washing them. And so they ask him, “Why do your disciples not live according to the tradition of the elders, but eat with defiled hands?”

On one level, it sounds like a simple enough question. Perhaps they’re simply interested in what Jesus and his group is doing differently. But you can almost hear the accusation in the question, can’t you? It’s not a simple query, but it’s an judgment. The disciples are forgetting, ignoring, or setting aside a religious practice that the Pharisees believe is essential, and they’re being called on it.

Can you think of any times in the Christian Church when we ask each other similar questions?  When we judge one another for the practices that one group, or one generation deems to be essential, while another is willing to set it aside?

“Why do your disciples not live according to the tradition of the elders, but eat with defiled hands?” they ask him. But Jesus doesn’t really answer the question. He neither defends his followers by arguing that the hand-washing ritual is not that important. Nor does he hold up the Pharisees judgment by instructing his disciples to follow the traditional religious practices more closely.

Instead, Jesus challenges the religious leaders to think deeply about what is most important in their faith and religious practice. And he doesn’t do this gently. He calls them hypocrites! He says that they honour God with their lips (they say the right prayers and follow the religious practices carefully) but their hearts are far from God. Instead of worrying about their own faith and life and the ministry that God has called them to, these Pharisees have become religious police who go around trying to make sure that everyone else is doing religion the way they do – the proper way.

Jesus says that they are worshipping God in vain and teaching human precepts as doctrines. He tells them that they are abandoning the commandment of God and holding to human traditions. He doesn’t tell them to stop washing their hands. It’s probably a helpful practice – not only for religious reasons, but because they will avoid the spread of germs and disease – but he reminds them that the faith that they are called to by God is about much more than when to wash your hands. It’s about the inclination of their hearts and the way they are called to live their lives in loving relationship with their neighbours.

It seems that for Jesus, religion is not a personal or private affair. It’s not primarily about our personal spirituality and the spiritual practices in which we engage ourselves… whether hand-washing, or dietary rules, or the particularities of the ways we pray or worship God. But religion is communal and social. It has to do with how we live our lives in relationship with our families, neighbours, and enemies. It is something that impacts all our relationships and calls us to reach out in love with our words and with our actions.

Jesus says, “Listen to me, all of you, and understand: there is nothing outside a person that by going in can defile, but the things that come out are what defile.”

The book of James is a very interesting one to read when we get thinking about what our faith is really about. James was a pastoral letter written for a broad Christian audience. It would have been copied and delivered to many different Christian Churches, sharing insights about what it meant to be Christian in the early years of what had become a new religion after the death and resurrection of Jesus.

In the passage we heard this morning from the first chapter, James gives some advice to the early Christians that the Pharisees should have heeded as well, in order to avoid a scolding from Jesus: “You must understand this, my beloved: let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness. Therefore rid yourselves of all sordidness and rank growth of wickedness, and welcome with meekness the implanted word that has the power to save your souls.”

It seems that James is calling for humility in our journey of faith with one another. He’s advising us to take the time to listen to one another, and warning us not to get so entrenched in our ideas, our priorities, our practices that we get angry and upset with those who have a different perspective.

And of course, we need to stay focused on what our faith is really about. We read, and study, and reflect on God’s Word to us… and the point of all that is not just that we should KNOW more about God, or that we should UNDERSTAND or BELIEVE the right things… but the point is that in listening and hearing God’s Word we might be transformed by God’s love and God’s call, and that we might live differently… becoming “doers of the Word, and not merely hearers” as James puts it.

In verses 26 and 27, James really gets to the point, and he gives us a very clear answer to our question of what is most important in faith and religion: “If any think they are religious, and do not bridle their tongues but deceive their hearts, their religion is worthless. Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.”

I don’t think that James is suggesting that good religion abandons all rituals or practices of worship, study, and reflection. But good religion can’t just stop there. It has to lead to lives that are transformed and that reach out about beyond themselves to love and care for the most vulnerable people in our societies.

When we’re asked that question from people outside the church: “Why do you still go to church?” Or when we’re discussing what is most important, what is the foundation of our faith and practice, with our fellow Christians… I think we all have to grapple with those questions for ourselves.

But today’s short passage from the Song of Solomon suggests another possible answer. As you may know, the Song of Solomon is a poetic book of love songs found amongst the Wisdom Books of the Hebrew Scriptures. On one level, it may be read as a book of beautiful poetry celebrating romantic love between a man and a woman.

But over the years, people of faith have also found in the love songs a reflection on the relationship between God and God’s people. That’s probably the reason why this particular book ended up being included in the Bible, because many people have read the love songs as an allegory about the love between the Divine One and the human creatures that God has invited into relationship with him.

In the text that we heard this morning, the woman is waiting at her house, or perhaps just inside her garden, for her lover who is on his way. She hears his voice calling out, and she sees him from a distance: “Look, he comes, leaping upon the mountains, bounding over the hills. My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag.”

And then he arrives at her house: “Look, there he stands behind our wall, gazing in at the windows, looking through the lattice. My beloved speaks and says to me: ‘Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away; for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land. The fig tree puts forth its figs, and the vines are in blossom; they give forth fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.’”

Just think… in the allegory of this poem, God is the lover who is bounding over the hills to meet his beloved people and to invite them out into the wonders of a world that is coming alive again like flowers blooming in the spring. God is the one standing behind the wall, gazing in at the windows, looking through the lattice, and inviting us into a relationship of love: “Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away with me…”

Though we may learn spiritual practices in our churches over the years and find these meaningful and helpful in following the way of Jesus, our faith does not begin with learning a bunch of rules and rituals. And though we will engage in mission by helping the poor and standing up for justice, and caring for the most vulnerable people in our society, this is not usually our starting point either. These things come as part of our response to God’s goodness and love towards us.

But our faith begins with an invitation. It begins when we hear God’s voice calling to us, when we see God coming to us in Jesus Christ like a lover leaping upon the mountains and bounding over the hills to come and be with us and invite us into a relationship of love. It begins when we open our hearts to that relationship and respond to the invitation to arise and come away with him.

We can work out the details along the way. But why do we still come to church? And what is the foundation of our faith and religious life? It is that God has come to us in Jesus and called us into a relationship of love. And we have responded to that invitation with our hearts, with our minds, and with our bodies. We have dedicated ourselves to journeying with him and exploring life together with him. We don’t have all the answers, but we have been invited to follow his way.

As we continue through our summer Sundays, we are following through the biblical stories about King David of Israel. I understand that Jim McKay, who filled in for me last week, preached about David and his affair with another man’s wife. And next week, Gerry Kraay will be picking up the next part of the story. Today’s reading from 2nd Samuel is not so much a time of action in David’s story as it is a moment of reflection in his life.

If you were at worship last Sunday, you will know that although David was a pretty good king, and a king who had received God’s blessing and approval, David was not always a good guy. In fact, last week we heard about what may have been the lowest point of his leadership as he had an affair with Bathsheba, another man’s wife. And then David used his political power to have her husband, Uriah, sent to the front of the battle lines where he would undoubtedly be killed. All this, so that David could take Uriah’s wife, Bathsheba, to be his own wife.

It’s hard to imagine how David could believe that his behaviour was appropriate. After all, he’s just broken two of the big ten commandments. He’s committed adultery, followed by murder, and at first, he doesn’t seem to get it. Maybe he’s blinded by love… or least blinded by lust and greed. Or maybe he’s been in the position of king for long enough that he’s started to believe that he’s above everyone else… that the rules don’t apply to him, that his needs and desires trump everyone else’s, and that he can do whatever it takes to get what he wants.

By the end of the reading, with the help of the prophet Nathan and a parable about a rich man stealing a poor man’s only sheep, David does come to realize what he’s done. It can’t be “undone” of course, but David can be forgiven, and he can avoid making the same kinds of mistakes in the future.

When I was re-reading this familiar story this week, the line that I found myself focussing on was one near the beginning of the text. Just after we learn that David has taken Bathsheba to be his wife, we are told: “But the thing that David had done displeased the Lord.”

What an interesting measure for the king’s behaviour! The author doesn’t delineate a list of David’s sins, or pause to weigh his good deeds against his recent bad ones. He doesn’t say that David has turned evil or turned away from God. But in a very straight-forward and clear way, the author points out that “the thing that David had done displeased the Lord.”

And it made me wonder if our lives and our decisions today could be directed by something as simple as learning to pause and consider whether the things we are doing are pleasing to God.

Some people might keep going back to the ten commandments to measure their lives. But just managing to avoid breaking commandments seems like just the bare minimum, I would think. Others, when faced with a difficult decision, have started to ask themselves, “What would Jesus do?” and that may help some of the time.  But I wonder if this question of whether or not we are pleasing God might be more helpful, more broadly applicable, and more focussed as we seek to be followers of Jesus in the world today.

Those of you who are old enough to have learned the questions and answers of the catechism back when you were in Sunday School may remember the very first question that you had to memorize. I think it’s the only one that most people can still remember: “What is the chief end of man?” Or in today’s language, “What is the purpose of humanity?” And the answer was… “To glorify God and enjoy God forever.”

Our purpose as human beings, as children of God, is to glorify God, to honour God, to please God with our lives. And as the simple catechism question makes clear, we’re not supposed to be miserable wretches while glorifying God. Pleasing God doesn’t mean ignoring our own needs or being content with suffering. We are to glorify God and enjoy God forever. Our lives should bring joy to God, to ourselves, and to others whom we encounter.

I have a friend whose brother is a much more conservative Christian that she is, and that difference puts some strain on their relationship. Recently she commented to me, “I love my brother, and I know he loves me. But he disapproves of me and my family because of our ‘sinful lifestyle’.”

Maybe she has a glass of wine with dinner once in a while. Maybe her kids go out to watch secular movies. Maybe she’s been known to pick up some groceries on a Sunday evening.  My friend’s brother must have looked at her life and concluded that her decisions were displeasing to God. But he focussed on very different things than the things I see when I look at her life.

I notice her commitment to worship and the time she spends preparing music to lead her congregation in praise. I notice the way she interacts with people in her work and in her daily life – treating everyone with care and respect – loving her neighbours as God in Christ has loved her first. I notice the way she keeps her eyes open and is ready to help someone in need – to pray for another’s concerns, to provide a meal for someone who is grieving, or a babysitter for the neighbours who really need a night out.

I could go on and on, listing the things in my friend’s life that I am absolutely sure are pleasing to our loving God. But I won’t, because I’d rather encourage us each to think about our own lives. What is it that we do, that we offer, that we contribute to the world that pleases and brings glory to God.

This week I received an email with the latest book by Reginald Bibby – a short 75 page e-book with his latest research on the state of the churches in Canada. Bibby is a Canadian sociologist of religion who has been researching and analyzing statistics about faith, belief, and church attendance and participation over the last several decades.

One of the things that Bibby is often counting is how often people attend worship. Do they come to church once a week, once a month, or once a year? Of course he asks other questions on his surveys too, about what they believe and what their faith means to them, but what seems to be highlighted as most important is how often they come to worship. And I agree, worship is important, especially when you’re measuring the health and well-being of the churches, the number of people at worship on a regular basis is an important indicator.

But if we want to measure something about faith (rather than something about church) then we have to go beyond just coming to church. Our duty as Christians is not complete when we come to church for one hour each week. Our worship is just the beginning. It is a moment to draw close to God and to each other, and an opportunity to be equipped to live lives that please God throughout the week and throughout the year.

In today’s reading from Paul’s letter to the Ephesian Christians, he begins by begging the Ephesians “to live a life worthy of the calling to which [they] have been called.” In other words, their lives should look different because of the faith to which they have been called.  Their decisions and relationships and interactions should all be impacted by the fact that they are now followers of the Jesus way, and the same should be true for us. It is not just our Sunday morning schedule that should set us apart from our neighbours, but the fact that our lives are aimed at pleasing God rather than simply pleasing ourselves, or even pleasing others.

Paul suggests that the Christian’s life should be characterized by four qualities: humility, gentleness, patience, and loving forbearance. These are qualities that we can work on and develop in our workplaces, in our families and extended families, in community groups to which we belong, and of course, we can practice them in our churches.

Indeed, the apostle Paul makes it clear that there are two important ways that we can please God with our lives as Christians. God wants us to do more than simply avoid breaking the commandments, but God calls us to live together in unity, harmony, and peace between Christians and in the church. Christian unity comes as a gift from the Spirit. And yet, Paul encourages his readers to “make every effort to maintain” such unity – to put our humility, gentleness, patience, and loving forbearance into practice for the sake of unity and peace.

The second thing that we can do to please God is to use our various gifts for God’s good purposes. Paul mentions those gifted to serve as apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers, but we could expand that list also. We’ve all been gifted in different ways – some with music, some with administration, some with hospitality, some with generosity, some with encouragement… and on and on… And when we use our gifts in the church and in the world for God’s good purposes, I am quite sure that God is pleased.

One of the songs that I grew up singing in church and at camp about Christian unity was, “We are one in the Spirit.” The chorus of that song played a part in shaping my understanding of what it meant for me to be a Christian. You remember how it goes… “And they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love, and they’ll know we are Christians by our love.”

That’s not to say that there aren’t Jews and Muslims and Hindus and people of no particular faith who are loving also. And of course, for all of us, there will be days when (like king David) we don’t do very well at loving one another or our neighbours at all.

But today’s texts suggest at least one radical change that we can make in our lives, something that will automatically set us apart from the general society that we live in. And it won’t just be that we come to worship on Sundays. We can begin right now to ask ourselves, “How am I pleasing God today?”

Instead of always working on pleasing ourselves, like the media encourages us to do… Instead of always working on pleasing other people in our lives, like our desire to be liked prompts us to do… We can begin to ask ourselves, “How am I pleasing God today?”

Am I working on my humility, gentleness, and patience? Am I learning to love more and more and contributing to the peace and unity of the church or the community? Am I discovering my gifts and beginning to use them towards God’s purposes?

We don’t have to have it all together yet. None of us do. And we have people like king David to remind us that we’re human and we all make mistakes. But let’s keep learning and growing together, learning to love more and more each day and each week. And as Paul wrote to the Ephesians, let us grow up in every way into him who is [our] head, into Christ. Amen.

I don’t really know what it feels like not to have a home.  When I think of people who are homeless, my mind jumps to scenes of people waiting in line at a soup kitchen. I think of the folks that sit outside the grocery store and ask for small change. I think of the man that I often see downtown, who even on the hottest day in July, is wearing his winter coat, and carrying dozens of shopping bags. All that he owns, he’s carrying with him.  When I think of the homeless, I think of young people who have run away from home – from abuse, from neglect, from broken or breaking families. I think of alcoholism, and drugs, and mental illness – the reasons why many homeless people have ended up that way.

What I rarely take the time to think about is the feeling of having nowhere to call “home”. An old friend of mine, and former resident at the home where I used to work, lives with the debilitating illness of schizophrenia. She is one of the fortunate ones. Although her illness is severe, and she cycles up and down between severe episodes including depression and paranoia, and relative good health, she does not live on the street.

I remember having a conversation with her one day about home. She was in good health at the time and thinking clearly, and she was rejoicing in the fact that she had a place to call home. She actually had two places to call home at that time. She had the residence, where she lived most of the time, and she had the home of her best friend, where she spent every weekend.

Both of these places were home to her. They were not just houses with a bed for her to sleep in. They were “home” – places where she was accepted for who she was, where she could be herself, where she could laugh or cry, where she could be well or sick, where she could give of herself and receive in return, where she could be at peace.

Right now, home for me is a house on Preston Avenue where I live with my husband and my cat. But this summer we’ll have the opportunity to go home to some other places. We’ll go to visit Nick’s Dad on the island in BC, and that will be home as well. Neither of us have actually lived there before, but it’s a family place, and a place where we are welcome and we feel at home. And then later we’ll fly off to Ontario to visit my parents, and once again we will have arrived at home. It has been nearly twenty years since I lived in that house on 2nd Avenue in the Glebe, but it is still home.

Home is where you can be at your best or at your worst – where you can laugh or cry or shout.  Home is where you gather strength to face the world. Where you rest, where you get encouragement, where you seek consolation and comfort when things do not go well. Home is where you participate in providing these things for your family members, no matter how big or small that family may be.

In the chapters leading up to our Old Testament reading, David is anointed the king over the united kingdom of Israel and Judah. His people respect him, and the Lord is making him greater and greater. He is successful in battle, because he listens to God, and does what God tells him. If you remember, last week we read about David’s celebration before the Lord. He goes and brings the ark of God from the house of Obededom to the city of David with rejoicing, and after making sacrifices, he dances before the Lord with all his might.

Now David loves God, and is clearly trying to be faithful to God’s will. He has just gotten settled in his house, and finally he has a chance to rest. Just think, he’s been at war for ages, and then he had the long celebration of victory. Now he finally has the chance to relax and to sleep.

But all of a sudden, David has another problem. Perhaps he is feeling guilty. He’s a great king, living in a great palace, probably with all kinds of servants and people waiting on him. He suddenly realises, that while he is resting in luxury, the ark of God is outside in a tent. That can’t be right. God in a tent, while I’m in this nice, cedar house? So he tells the prophet Nathan that he’s going to have a house built for God too.

Well, you’d think that God would be grateful to David for thinking of him, but of course he’s not. The Lord says: “Are you the one to build me a house to live in?  I have not lived in a house since the day I brought up the people of Israel from Egypt to this day, but I have been moving about in a tent and a tabernacle. Wherever I have moved about among all the people of Israel, did I ever speak a word with any of the tribal leaders of Israel, whom I commanded to shepherd my people Israel, saying, ‘Why have you not built me a house of cedar?’” 

Perhaps it’s kind of like going into the forest, and building a bird house – as if the birds didn’t have a place to live in all those trees. Maybe it’s like a tenant saying to her landlady, “I live in this great apartment. I think you deserve one too.” – As if the landlady didn’t already own the whole building!

Sometimes we, in the Church, try to build a house for God also. We are genuinely thankful for all that God has done for us. We have honestly rejoiced in the good news of Jesus Christ. Like David and the people of Israel, we have danced and sang and worshipped God.

And we really do want to honour God, so we build him a house… we make beautiful stained glass windows, and we decorate with banners, and we build wooden pews, and choose just the right coloured carpet for the floor. We come to visit God in his new house every Sunday morning, and then we go home to our houses for the rest of the week, and enjoy what God has blessed us with. And there’s nothing to feel guilty about, because we’ve made a house for God.

Those who gather for worship in less formal or permanent spaces – like house churches, or Sports Centres, or multi-purpose rooms in care homes, or outdoor chapels at camps – they might be able to explain how we’ve got it wrong. Maybe they understand that God is crying out “You’ve got it backwards! You don’t have to build a house for me out of wood and nails and brick. Wherever my people gather, I’m there. I don’t need walls or a roof or any of that. You’ve got it backwards! You don’t need to build me a house, because I am making a home for you.”

God says to David: Moreover the Lord declares to you that the Lord will make you a house. When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your ancestors, I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come forth from your body, and I will establish his kingdom. He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever. I will be a father to him, and he shall be a son to me. Not only a house, not only a home, but a family – with a parent, and a son, and many, many adopted children.

At the time that Paul wrote his letter to the Ephesians, the dividing line of concern was “Jew or Gentile.” Differences in cultural and religious practices between these two groups of new Christians made it difficult to understand one another and get along. Paul was trying to explain, in our reading, that in Christ, these differences don’t matter anymore. People who once hated each other, who once mistrusted and misunderstood each other, were now becoming part of the same family, according to Paul.

Paul writes: So Christ came and proclaimed peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near; for through him both of us have access in one Spirit to the Father. So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God… 

I believe that Paul is talking about the same home that the Lord promised David would come. God raised up an ancestor of David, Jesus, and through him, established the Kingdom of God. A kingdom – a household – in which both Jews and Gentiles are welcomed, accepted, and even unified, in Christ.

Suzanne was 24 years old, and she’d been moved out of her parents’ house since high school. She was an only child, and grew up in a big house in a nice neighbourhood. The last year had been difficult for Suzanne and her mum. Suzanne’s father had had a stroke, been hospitalized for some time, and then after another small stroke, he died. Now the two of them were alone, and Suzanne’s mum especially, was alone – rambling around in the big old house that they had shared together.

Finally, Suzanne’s mum decided it was time to move. The memories in the house were too much for her, and it seemed silly for one person to be living alone in such a big house. So she announced to Suzanne that she was moving into an apartment. Suzanne was devastated. It seemed like her family was falling apart. First, her father was taken, and now her home was disappearing too. It was upsetting at first, as Suzanne helped to go through the things in the house.

Together, she and her mum decided what to keep, what to give away, what to throw away. It was hard work, because they had a lot of stuff, but it was emotionally exhausting work, as the memories came back with every item they packed away. And the process took a long time. The two of them spent days together – working, and remembering, and laughing over the things they remembered. They hadn’t spent this much time together in years. They had both forgotten how much they liked doing things together.

When everything was finished, it was still a little hard for Suzanne, as they stood and looked back at their empty house. But she knew that her family wasn’t falling apart – that she wasn’t losing her home. Her family was her mum, and home was wherever they were together. It didn’t matter about the building that they had lived in. That was just a house.

The Kingdom of God, the household of God, the home that God has made for us through Jesus Christ, is not just a house or a building. It is a group of people – Jews & Gentiles – unified in Christ. Perhaps, like Suzanne, we need to lose the house in order to realize that the house is not the home – the house is not the family.

The interesting thing about this home, this Kingdom of God, is that it is not only a true home for us. It is also what David was trying to create – a home for God. We cannot build a house for God, and tell God to stay put. It doesn’t matter how beautiful the buildings we make, or how many crosses we put up, or how often we read our bibles there, or how many songs we sing. God will not live in our buildings. But God will abide in the home that he established. God will be our parent in the household that was made through Jesus, the Christ.

In Christ, the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God. “We are built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God.” God would not live in the house that David wanted to make for him, but the Lord will dwell in the household of God, in the people of God.

We have a home and a family if we want it. As we gather together as God’s family at the family table to share a holy family meal, may we know that God is with us, and in us, among us and between us, and may we know that we are home.

I’ve always liked today’s Old Testament story about David dancing the Ark of the Covenant into Jerusalem. I think, at a time in my life, when I was finding traditional Presbyterian worship services rather reserved and focused on the head rather than the heart, the thought of David “dancing before the Lord with all his might” was rather inspiring. It seemed to me that in his dancing, David was worshipping God, not only with his words and his mind, but with his whole self – body, mind, and spirit. And that’s the way that I wanted to worship as well.

Of course, when you read the story from the perspective of someone who is longing for freedom in worship, David becomes the obvious hero. He goes to retrieve the Ark from the place of storage where it has been neglected, if not forgotten, for a long time. For tribal Israel, the Ark was the chief symbol of God’s presence in the midst of the people. It was a gilded box made of acacia wood surmounted by winged cherubim, which served as a pedestal for the invisibly enthroned Yahweh.

So David returns his attention to God’s presence with him and with his kingdom. He worships God, and celebrates the fact that God is the true ruler of Israel, the one responsible for Israel’s victories, the one who will guide and direct them into a victorious future. And David worships with abandon. He’s not wondering what people will think of his dancing. He’s not worrying about what he’s wearing in front of the crowds because he’s dancing for God and not for them.

When Michal looks down from her window and scoffs at his unseemly behaviour, she becomes like those who might criticize the more emotional praise and worship style of service in favour of a more thoughtful and less exciting service of worship. She becomes the nay-sayer who won’t try anything new and who complains about the young people trying out lively music, new instruments, or even dance in their worship of God.

But the analogy doesn’t quite work when you understand the context of what’s happening here with David and the Ark and Michal. You see, Michal (the daughter of Saul) is David’s wife. She was given to him reluctantly by Saul when David made a payment of a brideprice for her. Later, when David became a fugitive from Saul, she was given as a wife to another man, Palti. And then later, in another political deal, David demanded that she be returned to him, and she was forcibly taken from a weeping Palti and brought to David. At one time, the story reported that “Michal loved David”, but nothing of that love remains.

In other words, Michal is not a neutral bystander, observing David’s dancing in his underwear and disapproving of his public display. More than anyone, perhaps, she knows David. She knows both his love and his cruelty, and she knows that what he’s doing as he dances along is not just pure praise and worship of God.

In many ways, it’s a political demonstration. By transferring the Ark to Jerusalem, David is linking the Kingship of God to his own rule over Israel. The procession serves as a public ritual to inaugurate Jerusalem, not only as a royal capital, but also as the religious centre of Israel’s life.  David announcing to the world that God is with him and he is with God. And that is a pretty bold political statement, don’t you think?

Michal likely struggles with the fact that she is married to this man – she belongs to him – and yet, she is the daughter of the former king, Saul, who has been clearly rejected by God. Watching David dancing in the streets, she understandably despises him as he boldly claims God’s approval of his kingdom over others.

I don’t know how honest or authentic David’s worship really was that day. Perhaps it was just a spectacle put on for the crowds. Perhaps David’s intention was to raise up his own profile by associating himself with the powerful God of Israel. Or perhaps he truly wanted to worship God and give the glory to God for all the success that he had experienced.

Certainly, authentic worship is not self-centered. Worship that is done “in spirit and in truth”, as John’s Gospel puts it, is all about God and not about personal status or gain. And authentic worship is not measured by our feelings either. It is not something that only happens when we are feeling joyful, or when we’re feeling inspired, or when we’re feeling particularly close to God. And God does not appreciate our worship any more if we are swept away by our emotions rather than simply acknowledging God’s holy presence with our words and praising God with our lives.

David and all of Israel danced before the Lord with all their might. They gave glory to God for the victories they had won in battle, and they brought the Ark of the Covenant, the physical symbol of God’s presence and holiness, into the city of the king. They proclaimed in that act that Yahweh would be their God, and they would be his people.

We, too, are invited to make God the centre of our lives. We are called to worship God Sunday by Sunday, and to look to God’s living Word in Jesus Christ for guidance and direction in our lives day by day. Whatever songs we sing, whatever dances we dance, whether we respond to the good news of the Gospel with tears or laughter or careful reflection on its implications for our lives and relationships, we are called to worship God.

God may not have won battles for us or made us kings or queens. But God has made us, and loved us. God has forgiven us for our mistakes, and shown us the way of love in Jesus Christ. God has blessed our lives in countless ways, and God promises to stay with us and encourage us through the challenges and struggles that we encounter through life as well.

When I was doing a few visits yesterday, I was inspired by two things that I heard and saw. Early in the afternoon, I was visiting with a congregation member in the hospital and hearing an update about his continuing medical issues, discomforts, and struggles. And then he paused and looked at me directly and said, “Amanda, I have so many things for which to be grateful to God.”

He wasn’t dancing. He wasn’t singing. And he probably wasn’t feeling particularly joyful. And yet he was worshipping God… giving praise and thanks to God for the blessings of life and breath and relationships and caregivers and God’s presence with him in the hospital.

Then, as I was visiting another person in a care home, I met her 90-something year-old neighbour who dropped by and joined in our conversation. As we were talking about walkers and balance and getting up and down the hall ways, my friend said to her neighbour, “You have both your original hips, don’t you?” And the lady smiled and said, “I sure do!” and then she wiggled her hips in a joyful little dance.

Before I left, the three of us joined hands and prayed in thanksgiving to God for the home where they lived, for the ability to move about, for good neighbours and friends, and for all the blessings of God.

Before I finish my reflection this morning, I would like to share a song with you that is one of my favourites. I’m not a dancer, but I love to sing, as most of you know. And this song, in particular, speaks to the call to worship God and to celebrate God’s presence and God’s blessings in the midst of, and in spite of the difficulties and challenges of life. Like David, who perhaps could not keep himself from dancing with all his might before the Lord, I do not know how I can keep from singing.

 “How can I keep from singing?” (Anonymous, from ‘Bright Jewels for the Sunday School, 1869, Adapted by Robert Lowry)

1. My life flows on in endless song above earth’s lamentation.
I hear the real though far-off hymn that hails a new creation.

No storm can shake my inmost calm, while to that rock I’m clinging.
Since Love is Lord of heaven and earth, how can I keep from singing?

2. Through all the tumult and the strife, I hear that music ringing;
it sounds and echoes in my soul; how can I keep from singing?

3. What though the tempest ‘round me roar, I hear the truth, it liveth;
what though the darkness ‘round me close, songs in the night it giveth.

4. The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart, a fountain ever springing.
All things are mine since I am his; how can I keep from singing?

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, just as he chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before him in love. He destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ.” With thanksgiving, may we live for the praise of his glory. And let us keep on singing and dancing our praise to God, as we sing #250 – I danced in the morning.

Over the past few Sundays, I have found that the scripture readings have led me to focus on a particular characteristic or virtue that was either demonstrated by the characters in the texts, or called for by the writers. Two weeks ago, I found myself focussed on the virtue of courage. Last Sunday, the texts invited us to explore the virtue of generosity. And today, I guess we need to talk about strength and, surprisingly, also about weakness.

The apostle Paul, continuing his second letter to the Corinthians, demonstrates both his weakness and his strength as a leader in the early Christian Church. What’s happening in this part of the letter is that Paul is trying to convince the Corinthians to pay attention to him and follow his leadership.

There seem to be a lot of different influences in the community, and many of the Christians in this church are being led astray by other leaders who are being touted as “super apostles”. These are people who have been given special spiritual gifts, people who have seen visions and had unusual experiences. When the “super apostles” boast of their experiences, many of the people are impressed and start looking to these others for direction instead of the man who first introduced them to Christianity and started up their church.

Paul, too, has received the gift of spiritual experiences. We remember from the account in the book of Acts how he was struck blind on the road to Damascus, how he heard the voice of Jesus speaking to him and asking him, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” It was such a powerful experience, that Saul allowed God to turn his life completely around, becoming an apostle for Christ instead of a persecutor of Christians.

But I guess Paul has been hesitant to talk very much about that experience, and perhaps about other spiritual experiences that he has had. In today’s text, Paul recounts an experience of being caught up to what he calls “the third heaven” or “Paradise”, and hearing things that no mortal person is permitted to repeat. Although Paul claims that this happened to “a person that I know”, most commentators agree that he has to be talking about himself.

But Paul doesn’t want to boast on his own behalf. Or least, if he does boast, he wants to boast about his weaknesses, not about his strengths. He wants who he is as an apostle to stand on his record, on what is seen in him, and not on a bunch of talk.

And so he boasts about his weaknesses, saying “Look, I have this thorn in my flesh, this trouble, this trial, this problem that I can’t get rid of… and still, look what God has done in and through me!”

He writes, “Therefore, to keep me from being too elated, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I appealed to the Lord about this, that it would leave me, but he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.’ So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.”

Anyone who has done a bible study on 2nd Corinthians has speculated about what that “thorn” might be. Paul never says what it is, or even what kind of an issue it is, so we can only guess. Some guess that the thorn is a psychological issue – maybe sexual temptation, or pangs of conscience over persecution of the early church, or humiliation for not getting more Jews to believe him.

Others think that it must have been the external opposition that he kept experiencing – the super apostles or other rival missionary groups, those who oppose him in Corinth, or rough treatment by his enemies. Or perhaps it was a physical illness or disability that he longed to be rid of – pains in the head, epilepsy, or opthalmia have been suggested.

Whatever the precise nature of this “thorn in the flesh,” it is something that Paul sees as a weakness, something that threatens to get in the way of him accomplishing his mission, something terrible and difficult that he describes as being given to him by Satan to torment him.

Many of us may live with thorns in our lives as well. We may not have thought about these things as thorns before, but they can function like thorns, making everything we do more difficult, distracting us from our goals, getting in the way of all that we would otherwise do for God and God’s purposes in the world.

Our thorns may be psychological as well – anxiety or low self-esteem or long term grief that continues to trouble us. We may struggle with mental illnesses that make each day in itself an accomplishment and participating in God’s mission an amazing feat.

Our thorns may come in the form of opponents like the ones that Paul faced – people at work who give us a hard time like the bullies that some of us experienced as children, family members or friends who question our participation in church or who constantly tempt us to put other priorities first instead of the mission of God.

Or our thorns may be physical illnesses or disabilities. I know that’s the case for many people in our church community who live with progressive diseases, with mobility challenges, and with a variety of symptoms that limit the ways in which they can serve, the things they can do for others, and the ways they can participate in the community of the church.

The tricky part about this text is that Paul is boasting about his weakness. And for those of us who have had the experience of a thorn in our own flesh, it may be rather difficult to understand why he’s boasting about it. When we think about our thorns, we may remember many days and nights of crying and wailing and praying that God would take them away! We may have bargained with God, making all kinds of promises “if only” God would relieve us of this thorn. How can Paul possibly “boast” of his weaknesses and the thorn in his flesh that has caused them?

Well, if we read carefully we will notice that Paul, too, has appealed to God to take away his thorn. “Three times I appealed to the Lord about this, that it would leave me,” Paul explains, “but he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.’”

Now that is a very difficult thing to hear from God… “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” Paul must have had to hear that at least three times before he was willing to accept it, and eventually to boast about it.

But Paul is quite clear about where the thorns come from. They do not come from God. It’s not God who caused his psychological torment, or his trouble with opponents, or his physical challenges. The thorns do not come from a good and loving God, but from evil forces in the world – from Satan, as Paul says.

But while Paul understood his thorn as an agent sent by Satan to diminish the effectiveness of his mission, he eventually came to believe that Satan’s plan had back-fired on the enemy because the thorn actually guards Paul against getting carried away by his visions and spiritual experiences.

Without the thorn, Paul could have easily fallen into the trap that ensnared the super apostles, diverted from his urgent mission by narcissistic fascination with his experiences and the sense of self-importance they bring. And so, he sees that which Satan sent to do harm as being transformed by grace into a good gift.

We must be careful with Paul’s line of reasoning about the thorn that continues to torment him. We must be careful not to conclude that our afflictions, or the afflictions of our neighbours, are blessed gifts from God. They are certainly not! Indeed, the troubles and trials that can be solved, or helped, or reduced, should be. God does not intend for any of us to suffer, nor can we be content to let others suffer needlessly if there is something that we can do to help.

And yet, Paul’s example may encourage us to know that we can live with some of these thorns, that God will be with us through the challenges, and that, indeed, God can and will do wonderful things through us despite our weaknesses and limitations.

This text is, of course, not only about Paul and his personal issues. Nor is it only about us as individuals with the challenges that we cope with while trying to follow the way of Jesus. It is also a text written for the Church at Corinth, and a text that speaks to the Church throughout the ages when it gets too focused on its own strength and influence in the world.

Over the last 20 years or so, the constant refrain in many churches has been a lament about the world “going to hell in a hand-basket”, about society no longer respecting religious customs and norms, about prayer and spiritual practices being excluded from public ceremony, from schools and government.

Most of us are probably familiar with the concept that we have come to the end of the Christendom era, when the Church held a position of power and influence in society, in which Christian leaders were honoured and respected, in which (even though not everyone was a Christian) society functioned as if we all were.

And it has been difficult for the Church to let go of the power that it once held, to accept a position of relative weakness, and to trust that God will be with us, and God will help us through, and that somehow, despite our weakness, God will work through us to touch and bless the world.

In a reflection on this text, Garrett Green explains how this point applies to the Church throughout the ages: “The Christian community forgets that Christ’s grace is sufficient for it every time it seeks to secure its existence in the world by means of its own strength and influence, every time it allies itself with worldly power rather than allowing Christ to be revealed in its weakness.”

Drawing upon ideas from the theologian Karl Barth, Garrett continues: “The ancient church, once it was no longer subjected to the official persecution of the apostolic age, all too quickly succumbed to the temptation to make itself powerful in the world, to present itself as spiritually superior to the pagan religions. And after Constantine made official its worldly position, it sought in the Middle Ages to make itself the supreme worldly power, becoming “a witness to the glory of Western man” rather than to the grace of God.

“And in the modern period, despite the efforts of the Reformers to recall the church to the gospel, the church… has by and large yielded to the temptation to secure its place in the modern world by accepting ‘its proper place in service to the new secular splendor of Western man.’”

“We nevertheless ought not to despair,” Garrett encourages us, “even though Christians will no doubt go right on seeking their security in strength rather than weakness, because Holy Scripture – as in this passage – recalls us again and again to the good news of the cross: “For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

Jesus is the one whose way we are called to follow with our lives as individuals and as churches. And his was not a way of power and security, but it was a way of service, of vulnerability, of self-giving. He did not fight against the forces of evil that sought to destroy him, even when they mocked him, and tortured him, and placed on his head a crown of thorns.

And in the end, he was victorious. Though he was humiliated and killed, God raised him from death, and now he lives forever in perfect joy and peace.

Today’s Gospel story is an interesting one to hear alongside the text about Paul’s thorn in the flesh because it reminds us that Jesus himself, and the disciples who first followed him, also struggled with hardships and challenges in their ministry. Jesus was disrespected and rejected by the people of his own hometown. It was such a devastating reception, and such a lack of faith, that he could hardly do any miracles there!

And when Jesus sent out the first groups of disciples to preach, and teach, and heal in his name, he made it clear that the journey would not bring much glory. They would experience some rejection, just as Jesus had before them, and they would need to pick themselves up, dust themselves off, and keep going.

The solution to the challenges was not for the disciples to be super-prepared, self-reliant, and ready for anything that they might encounter. Jesus didn’t ask them to be “super apostles” or even “super disciples.”

He just asked them to be faithful, to do the best they could, and to know that God would be with them to help them in their weakness, and to work through them despite whatever thorns were working their way into their flesh.

Like those first disciples, and like the apostle Paul, God has wonderful things to accomplish through us and through our church. Day by day, may we learn to be content, as Paul had learned to be, with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever we are weak, then we are strong. Amen.

Communion will be celebrated on Sunday, July 22.

Guest preachers and worship leaders:

• July 29 – the Rev. Jim McKay
• August 12 – Gerry and Dineke Kraay
• August 19 – the Rev. Jim McKay
• August 26 – the Rev. Jim McKay

The Prayer Shawl Group will continue to meet in July and August. Anyone is welcome to join the group on Wedneday, July 11 and Wednesday, August 8 at 2 pm in the parlour for an informal time of knitting, crocheting, and visiting.

The Prayer Group will continue to meet in July and August. We gather in the parlour for about an hour to reflect on scripture and pray for the church, the world, and our own needs and concerns. Join us on Friday mornings at 11 am on July 13, July 27, August 10, & August 24.

Women’s Camp for women of all ages will be held September 7-9 at Camp Christopher. The theme for the weekend will be “Living Waters.” Registration forms are available on the entranceway table at the church. The deadline for registrations is August 29th.

Fall Kick-Off Sunday will be September 9th with the introduction of a fun Reading Challenge by the Christian Education Committee.

In today’s portion of Paul’s letter to the Corinthian Christians, the apostle is making an appeal for financial support. It’s not an appeal for the Corinthians to support Paul personally, but to send money to the Church in Jerusalem where the Christians are in need.

The equivalent in our context would be when our Stewardship Committee gets up before the congregation and asks that we consider our gifts to Presbyterians Sharing or to Presbyterian World Service and Development. They’re not asking for donations for the general fund of our church, but they’re asking that we be intentional about the gifts that we make to the church’s mission and ministry beyond our congregation.

Since today is the first Sunday of the month, Karen has included in the bulletin a little report on the offerings made during the month of June, as well as our giving goals for the month of July. And as you can see, we did very well last month. In some of the previous months, we weren’t quite as successful in meeting our giving goals, but in June we did quite well.

In fact, I want to be clear today that the purpose of my sermon is not going to be to appeal to you in the way that Paul was appealing to the Corinthian Christians to increase their generosity and to follow through on their commitments to give. Because this congregation already does very well at giving.

Last month when I was attending the General Assembly of our Church in Ontario, I had the opportunity to catch up with the Rev. Annabelle Wallace. Annabelle was a minister here at St. Andrew’s for about 16 years, and she and I served together for three of those years. Over the course of the Assembly, Annabelle and I had the opportunity to visit with each other quite a bit. I am pleased to report that she is doing very well, and continuing to enjoy her ministry in Edmonton. She was also pleased to hear about St. Andrew’s and all of you, and upholds us all in her prayers.

At one point during a conversation, Annabelle was describing St. Andrew’s Saskatoon to someone else with whom we were speaking. And she said, “St. Andrew’s is an amazing congregation! Whenever there is a mission need, you just need to ask, and they come through and give what is needed.”

Over my years with you, I have seen that generosity manifest many times. Just recently, members of this church gave an extra $2000 to Camp Christopher so they can give camp shirts to every child and youth who attends the camp this summer. And year after year, I am amazed by this congregation’s generosity in giving to PWS&D for emergency needs and development projects around the world, as well as your commitment to support mission and ministry in Canada and around the world through Presbyterians Sharing.

So this sermon is not an appeal. But it is an opportunity, as we consider the scripture texts that we have received for this Sunday, to pause and consider our giving… to think about why and how our Christian faith calls us to give of ourselves by offering our time, our talents, and our tithes for Christ’s mission in the world.

The context of Paul’s appeal to the Corinthian Christians is a significant disparity between the resources of the new congregations in cities like Corinth and the limited means of the older congregations in Jerusalem. There are numerous references in the epistles of the New Testament to a collection being gathered from the churches around the Mediterranean. And it’s not a collection for starting up new churches. It’s a collection to care for the needs of widows and orphans – the saints in Jerusalem who are suffering from poverty and need.

Paul, who first brought the good news about Jesus Christ from Jews to Gentiles in places like Corinth, is now asking these same Gentile Christians to financially support the Jewish Christians who are struggling. As it once took a generosity of spirit to preach the Gospel to those outside the law, Paul is now asking the Gentiles to manifest a similar generosity by offering practical help to the poor in Jerusalem.

And the model for this generosity is the life of Christ himself. Jesus, whom both Jews and Gentiles have come to love and to follow with their lives, is the perfect example of what it means to be generous. Paul reminds them that they “know the generous act of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich.”

In the case of Jesus, the riches he had were not money or property or physical resources, and the gifts he gave so generously were not financial in nature. But the Corinthian Christians would have understood the riches that he shared so fully with them.

He gave his time and energy to preaching and teaching, so that crowds of people would come to know God more fully and have their lives transformed by his words. He gave up any possibility of security or comfort, so that he could devote himself fully to the work of announcing the Kingdom of God to everyone. He gave up any desire for status or popularity, so that he could show compassion and care for the people on the margins of society – for women and children, for tax collectors and sinners, for foreigners and those who were cast out because of contagious diseases.

In the years of his ministry on earth, Jesus lived completely FOR others. And then when he was rejected by the powers of the world, he gave up his very life, so that somehow through his example, through his sacrifice, through his self-giving, the world might come to know the unfathomable love of God for each and every one of us.

Today’s Gospel reading provides an interesting picture of what Jesus’ ministry may have been like on a day-to-day basis. What I mean is that today’s Gospel story gives us a sense of the many needs that Jesus must have responded to each and every day.

Jesus has just gotten out of the boat after the storm-tossed journey across the Sea of Galilee. And immediately, as the author of Mark’s Gospel likes to say, Jesus is accosted by a synagogue leader with an urgent need. Jairus’ daughter is seriously ill – at the point of death, he says. “Come and lay your hands on her,” Jairus begs, “so that she may be made well, and live.” So off Jesus goes with the synagogue leader to provide help for the sick child.

A crowd of people follows along behind Jesus as he rushes to the aid of the little girl. Some may be interested in what he might do to help her. Others, no doubt, are staying close so that they can ask Jesus to help them too. But one woman in the crowd just can’t wait for Jesus to finish his current mission. She reaches out and touches his clothes as he hurries along. And with that simple touch, a power comes out of him and heals her of the hemorrhage that she has been suffering for the last twelve years.

And then Jesus stops. He allows himself to be interrupted, even from the urgency of a little girl on the brink of death, because a daughter of God needs his attention even more urgently. He stops to find out who and what and why… to assure this woman of God’s love for her, to commend her for her faith, and to send her forth in peace.

Some commentators on this text point out that Jairus, as a leader in the synagogue, is a person of status and importance. He’s the kind of person who would expect to have his needs met promptly. The woman in the crowd, on the other hand, was no one very important. As a woman who had been bleeding for twelve years, she would have been deemed “unclean” by the religious laws. She should neither touch anyone nor be touched by anyone. And since her money for doctors had completely run out, her chances of overcoming her ailment and regaining her status in society were next to none.

I don’t know how much time Jesus lost because of the interruption, but he was willing to stop and take the time that was needed. He was willing to be unclean so that this woman could be healed. He was willing to let the rich man’s daughter die so that this poor woman could have a chance. And then, of course, he went on to help the girl as well, even though she had already died. Once again, he broke the cleanliness rules of his religion, this time by touching a dead person. He took her by the hand and said, “Little girl, get up.” And immediately she got up.

Over and over again, throughout Jesus’ ministry, he gives up his own need for status, for popularity, for security, for rest… so that the needs of the least and the lost may be filled. That is the way that Jesus gave. As Paul put it in his letter to the Corinthians, “You know the generous act of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich.”

I wonder if you have you heard people talking about stewardship and saying that we should follow Jesus’ amazing generosity… that we should “give until it hurts, and then give some more.” I’ve heard that occasionally, but it doesn’t match up with Paul’s advice to the Corinthians.

The apostle doesn’t ask them to give until it hurts, but simply to give out of their abundance. He says that “the gift is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what one does not have.” We’re not called to give until we are in debt, or to give until we are in need ourselves. We’re simply called to give out of the abundance that we possess – to give a portion of what we have to those who have less.

Paul continues to explain, “I do not mean that there should be relief for others and pressure on you, but it is a question of a fair balance between your present abundance and their need.” It’s interesting that Paul is not emphasizing the absolute poverty of the Christians at Jerusalem. He’s not saying that they are starving and desperate for help. He’s not telling the Corinthians that they are homeless and without proper clothing or even blankets to keep them warm. He’s asking the Corinthians to give, not because of their poverty, but because of an inequality… because things are out of balance.

I read an interesting reflection on this text from the Center for Christian Ethics at Baylor University: “Asking the Corinthian Christians to give money generously to help the poorer Jerusalem church, Paul said the saints should support one another in an equalizing way… He didn’t promise them a chicken in every pot or an iPod in every pocket. Rather he invited them to live in another world – where God supplies enough and no one gathers more than they need.” He makes reference to the story back in the Exodus wilderness, in which the Hebrews gather manna every morning… just enough for the day, with no one gathering too much or too little.

“The Apostle Paul’s concern to amend inequalities may sound strange to us today… We know absolute poverty is bad; but what’s wrong with inequality?” If everyone has ENOUGH, what’s the problem with some of us having a little MORE than we need? Well, the reflection points out that “inequality – when some fall far behind others in resources – impacts the poor in three [significant] ways:

• Prices change. If the incomes of the rich go up while the earnings of the poor stay the same, the prices for goods and services will increase. Thus, in inflation-adjusted terms, the poor actually become less well-off.
• Consumption patterns also change. As wealthier people change what they buy, this can limit what’s available to the poor. For instance, the rise in private automobile usage in the past fifty years had a severe impact on the availability of public transportation for those without the means to buy or lease a vehicle. Similarly, the recent proliferation of cell phones has led to the near disappearance of public pay phones in many cities.
• Finally, solidarity is undermined. No one needs a TV, but we feel left out without one. It’s about social belonging… People’s health and sense of overall well-being are more closely correlated with relative deprivation position than with absolute levels of income or wealth. Call it a “manna deficit,” if you will: we may not be starving, but we sense we’re not in community with others and they are callously leaving us behind.”

And it may also be possible that we actually have too much. Besides the problem of others who may not have enough, we may actually have too much. We own too much property, so our time and attention is taken up with taking care of it and keeping it in good condition. We own too many things, so we get focussed on our things instead of other people. And as much as most of us complain about being too busy and being short on time, we actually spend an inordinate amount of time every week entertaining ourselves. We’ve overloaded ourselves with so much television, and so many movies and games, and so-called social networks, that we hardly appreciate the gifts of art and music and culture anymore. Perhaps we simply have too much.

When it comes to giving, there are many opportunities presented to us. The Church appeals to its members and adherents to support the ministry and to give to various missions and projects for the good of the community. We do things like set goals for our giving as a church. We have a budget to meet, and a commitment to Presbyterians Sharing that we need to fulfill.

But as individuals and individual families, it’s most important that we take the time to consider carefully what we give and why we want to give. We shouldn’t feel pressured to give as much or more than others. But we should consider our own unique situation, and give out of our abundance so that, as Paul said, “The one who had much did not have too much, and the one who had little did not have too little.”

May God bless all the gifts that we have to offer, that through our time, our talent, and our tithes, the needs of our church and our community may be filled, and God’s Kingdom may come on earth. Amen.

Each of the National Events of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission have had a theme based on one of the First Nations “Seven Sacred Teachings”. And the theme for the Saskatchewan National Event has been “TRUTH”. And it has been a very appropriately theme, as thousands of former students of the Indian Residential Schools have come forward to tell their stories to Canadians – to speak the truth about what happened to them, to speak the truth to each other, to their families, to the government, and to the churches.

A lot of truth has been told over the last few days. A lot of truth has been heard. Through the work of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, that truth has become a part of the public record so that it will not be forgotten, and so that the mistakes of the past will not be repeated.

But truth-telling is not easy. When the truth that must be told brings up terrible traumatic memories of physical, emotional, spiritual, cultural, or sexual abuse, telling the truth becomes ever so difficult. And we have heard stories over the last few days of former students who held on to their pain and their memories for years and years before they were able to tell the truth to their families and communities.

Because of the fear that no one would believe them, because of the feelings of shame caused by what happened to them, because it seemed that no one was willing to listen, and for so many other reasons, former students of the residential schools kept their stories to themselves and the truth remained hidden.

“Truth” is the official theme of this TRC event, and it has certainly been an important theme over the last few days. But in my experience this week, and in what I have witnessed, “courage” has been the strongest theme. And, as usual, the Spirit of God, working miraculously through the writers of the Revised Common Lectionary, has provided just the perfect scripture texts on the theme of “courage.”

Most years, when the story of David and Goliath comes up in the lectionary readings, I’m inclined to skip it, or to de-emphasize it, or to choose an alternate reading that makes more sense to me with the Gospel. I know, it’s a classic Sunday School bible story… lots of action, interesting characters, and a popular lesson to be learned: With God’s help, sometimes the little guys get to triumph over the big guys. Yay for the little guys! You don’t have to be strong and powerful. You can be wise and cunning, and you can bring down the strongest of enemies.

But it’s the violence that always bothers me about the story of David and Goliath. I wish that David could have found a way to make peace with the Philistines. Why couldn’t he have killed Goliath with kindness, or engaged in dialogue so that the two groups might have found a way to work out their differences and their disputes?

But this week, as I read the story again, what I noticed was David’s amazing courage. In one of the verses just before today’s reading, Goliath is described by the author of 1 Samuel: And there came out from the camp of the Philistines a champion named Goliath, of Gath, whose height was six cubits and a span. (That’s like 10 feet tall.) He had a helmet of bronze on his head, and he was armed with a coat of mail; the weight of the coat was five thousand shekels of bronze. (That’s like 150 pounds of armour!) And he was carrying a javelin of bronze – likely about 19 pounds worth of weapon there!

And the Philistine shouted: “Today I defy the ranks of Israel! Give me a man, that we may fight together!” When King Saul and all Israel heard these words of the Philistine, the text says that “they were dismayed and greatly afraid…”

But not David. David, who was only a boy… David, whose experience was with tending and protecting his sheep, not fighting in battles… David was not afraid like the others. Or perhaps David was afraid, but David was not willing to be stopped by his fear. David was going to do what needed to be done, despite the logical, rational fear that held others back from facing the powerful enemy. Because David knew that God would be with him, and God would help him to do what needed to be done.

Yesterday afternoon, as Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Presbyterians sat together in a sharing circle in the lower hall of our church, I listened as one person after another found the courage within them to speak from their hearts about their experiences, about their feelings, and about their hopes for the future.

As is traditional in a sharing circle, we had an object to pass from person to person as we shared together. This time our leader had brought a small piece of cedar which we passed from hand to hand, and held as each one of us took our turn in sharing. She explained that the cedar is a sacred gift from the Creator, and that holding it would give us the strength to speak.

And it did. God was with us as we spoke, as we listened deeply to one another, as we opened our minds to understand the truth of what happened to First Nations Presbyterians when they attended Presbyterian-run residential schools. And God was with us as we opened our hearts to share the pain of those experiences and the legacy that they have left in so many families and communities.

Opening up our hearts is a risky thing to do. It’s like David, who decided that wearing the armour that he was given was just going to weigh him down and make it impossible for him to walk, let alone run, let alone fight! And so he faced the giant Goliath without any protection.

When it comes to relationships, to healing the mistakes of the past, to working on reconciliation in our families and communities, we have to be willing to be vulnerable too. If we won’t open our hearts to listen to one another, to seek to understand, and to share one another’s pain and sorrow, then we won’t have a chance at healing and reconciliation.

David was vulnerable when he went out to face Goliath, but he knew that God was with him and that God would protect him. When the giant threatened to feed David’s flesh to the birds of the air and to the wild animals of the field, David said to the Philistine: “You come to me with sword and spear and javelin; but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied.”

David knew that God was with him, just as we knew the Creator’s presence in our circle of sharing yesterday. And that knowledge gave us the courage to be vulnerable, to speak the truth, and to open our hearts to listen.

The brokenness and deep division that has existed between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people in Canada for so many generations is not unique. Throughout the world and throughout history, different ethnic groups, cultures, and religions have warred with one another, discriminated against each other, oppressed each other, or forced assimilation to the more powerful culture and way of life.

The apostle Paul was very familiar with the challenges associated with Christians living in the context of a multi-cultural and multi-religious society. And he also knew very well the fact that Christian communities themselves could easily become conflicted and divided.

The Corinthian Church, in particular, struggled with divisions in their community – with some following the teachings of Paul himself, while others looked to Peter or Apollos or perhaps Chloe for leadership. It is clear from Paul’s letters to the Corinthians that they didn’t always appreciate what he had to say to them, and they didn’t always follow his advice.

At one point he makes reference to a “severe letter” that he had to write to them for the good of the community. And although the letter did seem to help them a bit, they remain a community that one commentator describes as “divided, distracted, and self-preoccupied, reconciled with neither God nor one another.”

But Paul is insistent that they cannot simply accept the status quo and live with the brokenness in their relationships with each other and with him. They are Christians. And that means a calling to be reconciled with one another, just as Christ has reconciled us to God. It means loving one another, just as God, in Christ, has loved us first. It means that ignoring the problems is simply not an option.

Paul writes, “As we work together with him, we urge you also not to accept the grace of God in vain.” In other words, your faith means nothing if you won’t let it transform your lives and relationships. So what if you can accept God’s love and grace for you? If you won’t share that grace with the people in your life, in your family, in your community, then what difference does it make?

Although Paul is definite that faith is a gift from God, and grace is offered freely to us all, he also demonstrates quite clearly that the way of Jesus that we have been called to follow is not an easy way. God doesn’t cause the storms and difficulties that we encounter throughout our lives, but when we choose the “Jesus” way of life we’ll often find that we are being called to walk right into some of those storms where God has good purposes to work out through us.

Most of us would rather avoid the potential conflict and the inevitable discomfort of walking into storms. We would rather not confront the person with whom we’ve had a major disagreement. We would rather not reach out to the co-worker who is struggling with mental health issues that are starting to affect his work. We would rather not get involved with our neighbour’s problems with the landlord or an acquaintance’s issues with the immigration process. We would rather not take on a position on a community or church board – especially if there are issues with funding, or with vision, or with viability.

We would rather not walk into those kinds of storms. And I think that’s why so many church people, and so many people from the general public have not chosen to get involved in the work of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.

Don’t get me wrong… many members of our church have been participating in the TRC, volunteering in a variety of capacities, attending some of the hearings and cultural events, serving the lunch here yesterday, and being a part of the circle. Our youth group even baked and decorated 200 cupcakes this week which will be shared with survivors tonight when we have the survivor birthday party.

But many more have chosen not to be involved. And many people right here in Saskatoon will let the TRC pass through our city without even noticing its presence. And some of those will continue through life without having heard about the residential schools and their continuing impact on First Nations, Metis, and Inuit people in our community… and some of those will continue to judge, to discriminate against, and to look down upon Aboriginal people in our city… and the healing and reconciliation that we are seeking for all Canadians will be hampered as we continue in our conflict and division.

Paul reminded the Corinthian Christians of his own willingness to walk into whatever storms lay ahead of him for the sake of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. And he told them that none of the stormy experiences could ever be more powerful than God. He wrote, “We are treated as imposters, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet are well known; as dying, and see – we are alive; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything.” And then, with this word of hope and encouragement, Paul called the Corinthians to open wide their hearts. He said, “our heart is wide open to you… open wide your hearts also.”

I have been amazed, over the past few days, by the courage of my Aboriginal sisters and brothers who have shared their painful histories in public hearings, in one-on-one listening sessions with church representatives, in sharing circles, and in meaningful conversations in hallways and at supper tables. In sharing their truth so openly with their fellow Canadians this week, they have opened their hearts wide to us, allowing themselves to be vulnerable, and trusting the Creator to be with them and to give them strength.

But true reconciliation will require us all to follow their lead, to heed the call to open our hearts as well, to share some of their vulnerability, to share some of their pain and their courage… and together, to discover that God is indeed with us. And it is by God’s power and God’s love that the storm will one day be stilled. Thanks be to God.

GOOD NEWS for our Children:

Jesus liked to tell stories to help people to understand his teachings. One very important topic that Jesus wanted to teach everyone about was the “kingdom of God.”Do you know about the kingdom of God? The kingdom of God is the time and place where everyone knows God, and everyone loves God, and everyone is kind and loving towards each other.

One day, when Jesus was teaching a bunch of people he told a little story to help them to understand what the kingdom of God is like. He said, “The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed. You know how small a mustard seed is? It’s really tiny!

The kingdom of God is like a tiny mustard seed. When you plant it in the ground, it grows up and becomes much, much bigger. It becomes a big shrub. It grows branches and leaves, and birds come and make nests in its shade.

Jesus said that the kingdom of God is like a seed… It starts small. Maybe it starts with one person doing a good deed. And then someone else joins in. And then some others come along, and they all get going together doing one small good thing after another until they have done something really wonderful!

What kinds of wonderful things do you think we could do if we all helped a little bit and we worked together? Could we build enough homes so that everyone in our city has somewhere to live? Could we share enough food so that everyone in our city has plenty to eat? Could we work hard enough at being loving and caring so that everyone in our city has a friend and knows that they are loved? I can’t do it on my own, and neither can you. But we can help by offering our small gifts and our small efforts, and God will use our tiny things to do wonderful things.

I don’t know if they had dandelions in the place where Jesus lived. Probably they didn’t. Because if they did, I think Jesus would have used a dandelion to make his point. A dandelion has a lot of tiny little seeds, doesn’t it? These dandelions are just about ready to let go of their seeds and let them blow away. What will happen with the seeds when they blow away? They’ll grow into lots more dandelions, won’t they? How many dandelions do you think will grow from these ones? (2, 10, 100?)

Have you ever taken a dandelion like this and blown all the seeds all over? Sometimes people like to make a wish when they do that. But today let’s make it a prayer. Let’s pray that God will use each and every one of us, and every tiny good thing that we do, and every tiny gift that we offer, to do wonderful big things that make a wonderful difference in the world. We pray that God’s kingdom will come. Amen.

Sermon:

We had a wedding here yesterday. Bekki Dix, who grew up going to Calvin Goforth Church, and attending Kids’ Club and Youth Group right here at St. Andrew’s, who is working now as the Administrator for Camp Christopher, got married here yesterday to Mitch McDonald. It was a wonderful celebration. Nick and I went to the reception last night as well. And when we came out of the restaurant after dinner at about 8:30 pm, I was amazed by how bright it still was outside.

Later on, after I had gone to bed, I got one of those middle-of-the-night phone calls to go to the hospital and pray with a family in the ICU. That was at about 3 am. And when I was on my way home again around 4:30 am, longing for my bed, I noticed that it was already light outside. I suddenly realized that we’re already past the middle of June, and later this week we’ll have the longest day of the year… the summer solstice or what is sometimes called Midsummer’s Eve.

But I want you to think about another Eve, think back 6 months ago in the middle of winter to Christmas Eve. Someone told me once about seeing an unusual Christmas card when she was a young girl. Her mother received the card one year. It was a Christmas card that showed a man kneeling before a fire holding a piece of cloth. She thought it was the weirdest Christmas card ever!

But then her mother explained: this was a picture of Joseph warming a blanket for Baby Jesus. Oh! Poor old Joseph doesn’t really get a big part in our Bible stories, and that card has always made her think of the little but important things that Joseph did as Jesus’ dad.

Today is Father’s Day, so we might want to pause and think of important things that our fathers and grandfathers have done for us over the years. Perhaps some of our families will be celebrating Father’s day in a big way today. But our scripture readings today point out that small is big in God’s eyes.

The stories remind me of some wise words said by Mother Teresa. Mother Teresa said that we can do no great things, only small things with great love. God does not look at our size or the size of what we do. God looks at the size of the love in our hearts.

The lectionary readings from the Old Testament at this time of year are following the story of the great kings of Israel and Judah. They began with Saul, and today we heard the story of how David was chosen by God and anointed by Samuel.

As throughout the Bible, God chooses the unlikely, the least, the youngest and smallest of seven brothers, to be the new king. He is not a warrior by trade (though he will become a cunning warrior in the stories told about him) but rather a shepherd, out with the animals, smelly and dirty–but he is also described as ruddy and handsome, with beautiful eyes.

It is easy to assume we are meant to fall in love with David, we want him to succeed, we cheer him on, we celebrate with him, and we grieve when he falls short. In many ways, David is probably so likeable because we can all see a little of ourselves in him, and all hope for something great from him, but at the same time, he stumbles and fails. He is not perfect. But God does not choose perfect people. God chooses ordinary people to do extraordinary things.

We’ve been working for months now to get ready for the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s National Event here in Saskatoon. It has been a very interesting process to be a part of… working with other local church representatives, national church representatives, TRC commissioners and staff, the Survivors’ Committee, people from the city, and from the Board of education, and representatives from various Tribal Councils and groups.

With so many interested parties, the planning process has been slow and painstaking. Every time it seemed that something was decided, another group would weigh in and suddenly the plan was changed, or tweaked, or completely reversed! For a Presbyterian who is used to reasonably good order and process in decision-making, it took a decided effort to just wait, and be patient, and not to worry too much when the plans kept changing.

Only a month ago, I remember talking with some colleagues from other churches who were involved in the TRC planning, and we wondered together: “They’re expecting somewhere between 15 and 25 thousand people to attend this event next month! How are we ever going to be ready for that?!”

And then there was the fact that in my own area of responsibility – the Churches Listening to Survivors Area – the recruitment of Presbyterian volunteers was slower than I had hoped. Even up to a few days ago, I was still quite short on people who were ready and willing to serve in the area by listening to the stories of former residential school students and offering them an apology on behalf of the church.

But Jesus told a parable about the kingdom of God. He said that “the kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head.”

You know how it is sometimes with seeds that you have planted in the ground… You wait and wait, you fret and worry because you don’t see what is happening beneath the surface of the earth, and you think maybe the seeds are not going to grow. But then suddenly the plants start to appear! And when they reach the light of the sun, they just seem to shoot up. In the course of just of few days, they grow and grow. And before you know it, it’s time for the harvest.

That’s what happened with my list of volunteers for the listening area at the TRC. And I am pretty confident that all the work that has gone in to planning the whole event – the small contributions made by so many, many people – will come together to make something really special.

If you aren’t already planning to drop by the TRC event at Prairieland Park, I would encourage you to consider it. It’s open to the general public to come and listen, learn, and share with both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people from across the province. You can look up the details of the schedule of events to help you decide when to drop by. There was a special insert in yesterday’s Star Phoenix with details of the program. Or you can see the program online at trc.ca

For those of us who have been involved in the planning of this TRC event, it seems like a really big thing. We’re told this is going to be the largest TRC event in the whole country, and this is likely going to be the biggest thing that’s ever going to happen related to the residential schools and the promotion of healing and reconciliation between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people in Saskatchewan.

But keeping things in perspective, I know that this is only a 4 day event, and for many former students, the opportunity to explore their history and perhaps tell their story, will only be the very beginning of a very long healing journey. And for many others who are just starting to learn about and understand the legacy of the residential schools, it will only be the very beginning of their involvement in the work of reconciliation.

Still, I am confident that the small things that we have been doing to get ready for this event will make a difference. Maybe only in one person’s life, or maybe in more… But I trust that “the kingdom of God is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.”

In an online reflection on this morning’s reading from 2 Corinthians, one minister describes what God is doing in building the kingdom of God on earth. My prayer this morning is that this is what God will be doing this week, here in Saskatoon, at the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s 4^th National Event:

God is doing something new, which is the new thing God began in creation. God is bringing the high down low and lifting up the low to be high. God is creating us anew, in a way in which we grow and live together in a way that honours God and each other, and not ourselves.

The reign of God is built when we live for each other, building each other up, doing Christ’s work here on earth. The reign of God is built when we recognize that death does not have a hold on us, and that life is worth living when we live for others, not for ourselves. Everything old dies, but in Christ, everything becomes new, and life surpasses death.

Memorial Fund Moment:

“The Kingdom of God is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.”

This morning the bulletin is extra thick because the Memorial Committee wanted to share with you some wonderful information about how you can use your gifts, both small and large, to do amazing mission and ministry in our church and beyond.

The material in the “Planned Giving” folder comes from the Presbyterian Church in Canada, and outlines many different ways that individuals may want to make planned gifts to support the work of the church.

“Planning Giving” includes making intentional choices about what will happen to your estate when you come to the end of your life, but it also includes exploring a variety of ways to give during our lives as well.

Normally, we think about giving out of our income. But there are other ways to give that we can explore as well. Giving out of our assets is another possibility, and the folder includes information about how we can do that, with information about Life Insurance, Gift Annuities, and Publicly Traded Securities.

Earlier this year, St. Andrew’s received an anonymous gift of stock, which was given through the Presbyterian Church in Canada. We rejoice in this gift, as we rejoice in the generosity of all who give to the church’s ministries. And we hold it up as an example of another way to give which can be beneficial for the giver and the recipient.

At St. Andrew’s we also have a Memorial Fund. The gifts we receive are invested and kept in perpetuity, and only the earnings from the investment are used…

• To assist another congregation, a mission field church worker, or Camp Christopher
• to assist local community groups, agencies or charities who provide care, help, or development to the disadvantaged,
• to assist students who are preparing for full-time ministry in Christian service
• to assist young people or adults of the congregation to attend conferences or seminars
• to assist children in financial need to attend Camp Christopher in the summer
• and to consider suggestions from the congregation for emergencies or special needs of the congregation

A brochure about the Memorial Fund is included in the bulletin this morning with more details about how your gifts, whether small or large, can make an amazing difference in our community and beyond.

Planned Giving… is all about the spirit of wonder and possibility we see in the eyes of a child holding a dandelion: every seed a wish… every wish a prayer… every prayer a new possibility… that can become a reality as God takes our gifts and uses them to grow and multiply in ways beyond our imagining.

What is your wish for our congregation? For the Presbyterian Church in Canada? Your planned gifts can help make your wishes come true and can provide a lasting legacy for generations to come.

Summarizing today’s Gospel reading, one commentator writes that Mark 3:20-35 tells of Jesus’ homecoming after he called his first disciples, and the reception he received. People had begun to talk about Jesus and were spreading some rumors and tales, including that Jesus was possessed by Beelzebul.

Jesus’ own family wants to bring him home and stop this “madness,” this “nonsense,” of Jesus’ ministry and healing and preaching, but Jesus declares that Satan cannot cast out Satan; therefore Jesus, who is doing good works, cannot be possessed by a demon, for what he is doing is the complete opposite of what demonic forces would do. Demonic forces would destroy, bring pain and anguish and despair; Jesus brings restoration, healing, joy and hope.

When Jesus’ family calls out to him and the crowd informs Jesus of this, Jesus reminds them that whoever does the will of God is Jesus’ family– for we are all children of God, we are all Christ’s brothers and sisters, when we do the work of God, bringing healing, hope and restoration to the world by sharing God’s love. Whoever does the will of God is Jesus’ family. His family is not determined by blood lines or marriage certificates. All those who do the will of God are Jesus’ sisters and brothers.

Most of us know that family is not always defined by who is technically related to us. I remember learning years ago from one of our Cameroonian church members that family can include more than just the people who share blood lines. When Flora would tell stories of her home in Cameroon, she would often mention her aunties. And then she would correct herself, or adjust herself to accommodate my Canadian perspective on family… “She isn’t really my auntie,” she would say, “but that’s what we would call these women in our lives who supported us, and encouraged us, and helped us along the way.” Like Jesus’ definition of family, it had more to do with what you do, and less to do with who you are.

Today’s story from the Gospel of Mark might make us wonder about how Jesus seems to treat his family of origin. He has a good point to make about understanding “family” much more broadly. But in making his point, he leaves his mother and sisters and brothers just standing at the door and waiting.

You might even notice something of a pattern here. There’s a story in Luke’s Gospel from when Jesus was quite young when he seems to disregard his family in a similar way. They’ve all been up at Jerusalem for one of the festivals, but it’s time to get on the road to go home and Jesus is nowhere to be seen. Mary and Joseph search and search for their eldest son, and they eventually find him in the Temple, speaking to the religious leaders… asking questions, and likely answering them too.

And rather than being apologetic for his absence, Jesus wonders why it took them so long to find him. Of course he would be “in his Father’s house.” Jesus’ family is God’s family. And it is that family (not his technical relatives) that take priority in his life.

Those who look to Jesus, Mary, and Joseph as the perfect model for a nuclear family, and those who focus on families as the most important social unit in society, might be put off by scripture texts like these. How can Jesus be so dismissive of his own family? It just doesn’t seem right!

Of course, we know from other stories that Jesus doesn’t completely reject his family of origin. His mother is still with him at the end of his life, and there is the suggestion that at least one of his brothers was a leader in the early church. Indeed, one of the Gospels records the fact that when Jesus was dying on the cross, he instructed one of his beloved disciples to look after his mother.

He didn’t hate her or reject her. He loved and respected her, and he wanted to make sure that she would be well cared-for. He knew that “family” is much more than blood lines, but it is about care and compassion and commitment. That’s why he could say to his disciple, “Here is your mother,” and to his mother, “Here is your son.” He encouraged them to be family to each other.

The difficulty in the text comes from the fact that engaging in Christ’s mission means putting the will of God AHEAD of our families. Like the early disciples of Jesus who were called to drop their nets and follow, leaving behind work, and family, and friends, our discipleship will at times require us to leave family behind and follow where Christ is calling us.

Ministers, for example, may be called to churches that are far away from their extended families. And immediate family members may have to put up with less than ideal circumstances when the family moves to a small or remote community where a minister is needed.

But I don’t think that the message is for clergy and their families alone. All Christians are called to follow Jesus where he leads, and for many of us that will mean living with the fact that some of our family members think we’re a little bit crazy. It may even mean going against the wishes of our parents or children, or brothers and sisters, because we want to follow Jesus with our lives and we are willing to put him first.

I’m thinking of a Christian family that I heard about who decided that they needed to make their Christmas Day celebrations about following Jesus, instead of letting the holiday become focussed on giving and receiving gifts that they didn’t really need. I think there was some resistance from the children at first when the family started volunteering at a soup kitchen on Christmas Day. But the resistance didn’t last long, as the family members found meaning and purpose in their new Christmas tradition.

The decision wasn’t about neglecting the children… denying them the Christmas tradition of sitting around a tree and opening presents together on Christmas morning like everyone else did. But it was about putting Christ’s mission first. And in this case, the family was able to share in Christ’s mission together.

In our reading this morning from 2 Corinthians, Paul speaks about suffering. He talks about the hardships that he and other Christians have to endure because of the choice they have made to follow Jesus. He knows that “the one who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also with Jesus, and will bring us with you into his presence.”

And this knowledge brings him hope and sustains him through sufferings. Whatever hardships he has to endure are “for Jesus’ sake, so that grace, as it extends to more and more people, may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God.”

That’s the problem with Christians who get focussed on their own particular families, as if our families are the only ones for whom we are responsible. It’s the same problem as when congregations get too focussed on just the people who are in our church families. We stop reaching out beyond our families and congregations. We fail to be concerned about the people who are outside of our immediate communities, and the gospel does not spread. God’s grace is not extended to more and more people, as Paul says.

Today’s Gospel text certainly includes some difficulty and challenge for those who want to follow the way of Jesus. It becomes clear that Jesus’ way is one that includes both commitment and sacrifice, and there will be difficult decisions of priority to be made. But there is good news in the text as well. Did you hear it?

The good news is that when we seek to follow Jesus and do the will of God we become a part of the family of God. When we are alone, or rejected… when our families think we’re a little crazy… when we do need to leave some family connections behind in order to follow the way of Jesus… The church becomes our surrogate family.

And it is a family that we belong to… not by virtue of our birth into it, or by way of our worthiness to be in it… but simply by virtue of our baptism. We belong to God, and therefore we also belong to one another in the family of God.

The best thing about belonging to a family is the relationships that we share with our family members. And the worst thing about belonging to a family is the relationships that we share with our family members. We don’t always agree. We don’t always understand each other. We don’t always take the time to listen.

Early in the Gospel passage, the scribes are telling people that Jesus is casting out demons because he is himself possessed by some kind of demon. They say that “he has Beelzebul,” the ruler of the demons, and it is by this power that he is doing the healings.

It’s a strange accusation, really, because Jesus is casting out demons. He’s freeing people from their illnesses and addictions, and he’s not taking over their lives by force…. But Jesus argues that he’s not in league with the demons because that just doesn’t make any sense! If he were on their side, then it wouldn’t make any sense for him to be casting them out. It wouldn’t make any sense for him to be fighting against them. “If a kingdom is divided against itself,” he says, “that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but his end has come.”

At this point in his ministry, Jesus’ family is divided. He knows that he has a special calling to do God’s work in the world, to preach the coming of the kingdom, and to help and heal the people that he encounters. While his family members are starting to think that he is crazy… A divided household cannot stand.

Jesus looks around to the crowd, identifying his listeners, those who do the will of God, as his mothers and brothers and sisters. This family of God, to which we all belong, must not be divided either. Otherwise, it too will be in danger of falling.

Our congregations must be united in purpose. Our denomination, the Presbyterian Church in Canada, must be unified by our common faith and our shared goals. The Church throughout the world, including Christians from all kinds of backgrounds and traditions, must be one also. Indeed, we must strive for unity with all those who seek to do the will of God. And the family of God needs to have an open door policy, to welcome new people and to unite with them in our common purpose and goal of following Jesus and doing the will of God in the world. Otherwise, our divided house will be in danger of falling.

It was a wonderful experience to be participating in the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in Canada this past week. The General Assembly is the highest court of our church – the yearly national meeting – this time taking place in Oshawa Ontario, including about one out of every six ministers from across the country, along with an equal number of elders.

The meetings of the General Assembly are important, as together we are making decisions for the ministry and mission of our Presbyterian Church as we move forward in faith and hope for the future. It’s always a great experience to worship with such a large group of about 300 people, and to meet friends and colleagues from across the country.

But the Assembly has its challenges too. The Presbyterian Church is diverse, and sometimes in the midst of debate on an issue, it seems like our differences may be insurmountable. The Young Adult Representatives who participated in the Assembly noticed this problem as well. In their presentation to the Assembly on the final morning, they noted the fact that Presbyterians have a wide range of perspectives on some pretty important issues.

And yet the YARs also commented that they were impressed by the way that such a diverse group of Christians could get together in one room and discuss the issues openly and honestly. There was no yelling at each other. People treated each other with respect, and listened to the variety of viewpoints. Most individuals probably didn’t go away from the General Assembly pleased with every single decision that was made, but we did make the decisions together… hopefully under the guidance of the Holy Spirit.

The young adults thought that it was pretty spectacular that the process would allow such diversity of people and perspectives to meet together, discuss together, debate together respectfully, and ultimately to make decisions together. We might not completely agree on music, on liturgy, or on some significant theological issues… but we are one as we seek to do the will of God together.

As Jesus looked around at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my sisters and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.” Together, may we seek to do God’s will today and each day. And may God expand our vision of what it means to be members of the family of God. Amen.

On Pentecost Sunday, we celebrate the wonderful event that took place on the first Pentecost following Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension. The disciples were all together in one place, and the Spirit of God was poured out on them in power. It filled the room where they were meeting, and sent them rushing out into the streets to tell the good news about Jesus to visiting pilgrims from all over the world. Though the listeners came from many places and spoke many different languages, they heard the disciples proclaiming the mighty acts of God in their own native tongues.

Often Pentecost is referred to as the birthday of the church. Although the followers of Jesus always had a mission, and John’s Gospel tells about Jesus breathing the Holy Spirit onto his disciples even before he died, for the author of Luke and Acts, this is the moment when the Christians first received the gift of the Holy Spirit empowering them to go out and tell the good news to all the world.

As we celebrate Pentecost Sunday, many of us may wonder what the Spirit is doing today. It’s one thing to read about what the Spirit of God did in the first century. But is that Spirit alive today? And in what ways is the Spirit manifest among us? We may talk about the Holy Spirit quite a lot in church, but do we see or feel the Spirit at work in our lives or in our mission?

Earlier this week, when I began to think about what I might preach this Sunday, it was the Spirit’s activity in prayer that came to mind. I had just read a reflection on prayer submitted by our Pastoral Care Nurse, Laura Van Loon. And the Pastoral Care Committee met on Tuesday evening with one of the updates at the meeting being about the re-invigoration of St. Andrew’s Prayer Chain.

I remembered a funny little assignment that we had back in my first year in seminary. We had to make an appointment to visit our professor, Stephen Farris, in his office. And when we got there, he would tell us about a pastoral context in which a prayer was needed. We would imagine ourselves in that situation, and then offer a prayer. Just like in real life, there was no time to prepare, to look up a nice prayer in a book, or to jot down some helpful words or phrases.

I still remember the pastoral situation that I had to pray about. It was some couple’s 50th anniversary, and I was asked to say grace before a celebratory meal. No big deal. Thank God for the blessing of their life together and for the opportunity to gather and celebrate with good friends and family. Pray for the couple, and for all married couples that their love and faithfulness may grow, and that they may be a blessing to the world. Give thanks for the food, for the people who prepared it, and ask God to bless it.

I remember the sense of relief when I left the office with my prayer complete. Thank God he didn’t give me something complicated to pray about… some situation of crisis or grief or tragedy… Thank God he didn’t describe one of those pastoral situations in which it’s hard to know what to say to the people, let alone what to pray to God for them and with them.

Of course, I’ve been in many of those more difficult situations in the years since that nerve-wracking little prayer assignment. And what I have discovered over and over again, in hospital rooms and waiting rooms, in crisis and in grief and in anxiety, is that my ability to string a bunch of prayer-type words together is not really what it’s all about. But it’s about being present, and being surrounded by the Spirit, and asking for God’s help, and letting the Spirit guide the words and the silences, the tears and the touch.

This morning’s reading from the eighth chapter of Romans assures us of the activity of the Spirit in the lives of believers. It offers concrete hope to those who are 2000 years removed from the vibrant activities of the second chapter of Acts. The Holy Spirit of God is still present and still active in our lives, and very specifically in our prayers.

Paul writes: “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness, for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words.” When words escape us, or our prayers become a repetitive rambling, when we do not know what to pray for, or when our weeping leaves no space for words or even coherent thought, it is the Spirit that helps us in our weakness. It is the Spirit who intercedes, who prays for us with sighs too deep for words.

The characters in Raymond Carver’s “A Small Good Thing” live “with sighs too deep for words.” This short story by one of America’s greatest writers is about Scotty, who is hit by a car while walking to school the week of his eighth birthday. His mother, Ann Weiss, has already gone to the local bakery and ordered a special cake for the birthday boy.

Everything had seemed right in the world of Ann and Howard Weiss. But everything changes in their world as Scotty is taken to the hospital and slips deeper and deeper into a coma. Raymond Carver takes the reader into the pain and bondage of the Weisses’ agony, an agony that Paul knew as he wrote to the church in Rome. In Romans 8, the apostle foretells a future glory, but he is mindful of the “groaning” and “sighs” that belong to the “children of God” in the present age.

You see, we live in the “in between” time – the time between the announcement by Jesus of the coming Kingdom of God and its final completion. We have received “the first fruits of the Spirit” and yet we “groan” because we still await the “redemption of our bodies.” Paul’s explanation in this passage navigates the choppy waters of now and not yet, of the present time and the time when all that plagues the “children of God” will be conquered “through him who loved us.” The apostle acknowledges that “in hope we were saved.” We hope for that which is not seen, and “we wait for it with patience.”

In Raymond Carver’s poignant story, patience is not evident. The baker is anxious for Scotty’s birthday cake to be picked up and paid for; the Weisses are full of anxiety as they hope for what they do not see in their coma-bound young son; and the medical staff impatiently searches for answers. All of Carver’s characters are hopeful, but none is patient.

Anyone who has lived through such a crisis knows that it is no comfort to deny the present suffering by focusing on the hoped-for future glory. In an ironic way, reflections on the future must be postponed, even as it is the hoped-for future that pulls the Christian through this present time with all its groaning, pain, weakness, and sighs too deep for words.

As Christians, we walk together through the darkest valleys, and we boldly claim in faith, hope, and love that the “Spirit helps us in our weakness.” And this strong assurance comes to us even when “we do not know how to pray as we ought.” When we cannot find words, the Spirit, according to Paul, is one with us in our “sighs.”

The presence of the Spirit in the time of suffering is an ever-present reminder that God is present with us always. Paul anticipates fully the work of the Trinity: God searches the heart, loves us in Jesus Christ, and knows the mind of the Spirit. Finally, in our weakness, God is present with us in the one “who died, yes, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us.”

Raymond Carver’s short story ends with Scotty’s death and a vision of the redemption and wholeness that will characterize God’s future. And Scotty’s grieving, anger-filled parents find redemption and wholeness, at least for a moment, at the bakery in a late afternoon visit with the baker who had been phoning over and over again, requesting that they pick up and pay for Scotty’s birthday cake.

The baker apologizes for the incessant calls and breaks open a rich dark loaf of bread. Ann and Howard partake of the rich dark bread, and the baker tells them that eating is a “small good thing” in a time of groaning, in a time of “sighs too deep for words.” The baker listened to Scotty’s parents, and they to him.

In a reflection on Romans 8, Clayton Schmit notices that the text is full of angst: groaning and travail, unfulfilled longing, unseen hope, and concerns too deep for words. And so Clayton goes looking for the location of the text’s promise. The good news that he discovers, he explains in terms of what Peter Storey has called the great nevertheless of God.

Storey developed this idea while serving as bishop of the Methodist Church in South Africa during the struggle against apartheid. Even while surrounded by the strong-armed agents of repression, Storey knew that the Holy Spirit was active in his country.

The government had all the power; nevertheless, God was with the poor in South Africa. The South African regime did not hesitate to use force in order to stop rebellion; nevertheless, Storey, along with Desmond Tutu and others, led the black South Africans in a peaceful revolution. The odds were heavily against the peaceful revolution; nevertheless, with God on their side, they were victorious. In the end, there was strong temptation to retaliate; nevertheless, God gave them a means of forgiving enemies and forming a reconciled nation. No matter what the odds, if God is in something, no obstacle can block the great nevertheless of God.

Paul’s words to the church in Rome can give us the same kind of hope. We may live in difficult times; nevertheless, God is guiding creation through the pains to a future fulfillment of promise. We do not see the hope that we hold to; nevertheless, it is this hope that saves us and for which we are given patience to endure. The Spirit is not always as visibly active in the church as we might desire; nevertheless, the Spirit is unceasingly attentive to our pleading, even to the point of bringing our prayers home to God when we are unable to articulate them for ourselves. We may not know what God has in store for us; nevertheless, the Spirit knows the mind of God and leads us towards the will of the One who made us for God’s own purposes.

On this day of Pentecost, when we celebrate the pouring out of the Holy Spirit on the first disciples, we remember and celebrate the Spirit’s presence and help in our lives and in the church today. As we continue to pray together, may the Spirit intercede for us with sighs too deep for words. And as we gather at the Table of the Lord, may the Spirit fill our words and our prayers and our actions, that we might experience Christ’s presence with us in the feast. Amen.

The Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada will host its fourth National Event in Saskatoon at Prairieland Park, June 21-24, 2012. This is an opportunity for all Canadians, both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal, to learn more about and bear witness to the legacy of the residential school system.

This National Event will help to unveil the unique experiences of residential school survivors from Saskatchewan. Survivors, both direct and intergenerational, former school staff and others affected by the schools are invited to come forward and provide private and/or public statements about the impact of residential schools on their lives, that of their families and of their communities.

All members of the public are invited to observe the proceedings as witnesses. The role of a witness is to observe or account for the significance of the event. Bearing witness to the thought provoking statements of residential school survivors and others helps to validate the survivor experience and brings us on a path towards reconciliation.

The Presbyterian Church in Canada, along with other churches and the Canadian government was involved in the residential school system for Aboriginal children, and therefore it is critical for us to be involved in the process of truth-telling, healing, and reconciliation which is the aim of the TRC.

The Presbyterian Church operated several schools before 1925 and the formation of the United Church of Canada. In 1908, over 500 Aboriginal children were attending Presbyterian schools. After the formation of the United Church, the Presbyterian Church continued to operate two schools: Birtle school in Winnipeg, Manitoba, and Cecilia Jeffrey school near Kenora, Ontario. These schools, which had opened in 1883 and 1902 respectively, continued to operate until the 1970s.

Here are some ways that you can be involved in the TRC:

• Go to the trc.ca website and learn more. Read the TRC’s interim report which is available on the website.
• Plan to attend the National Event in June which will be held at Prairieland Park in Saskatoon. The event will include many opportunities to learn about the schools, to listen to the stories of those who attended the schools or who have been affected by their legacy, and to experience the gifts of Aboriginal cultures to our communities.
• Consider volunteering during the National Event. Register as a volunteer by going to trc.ca, clicking on the “Saskatchewan National Event” button, and filling in the volunteer form. If you would like to volunteer as an official listener in the Church Listening Area (meeting one-on-one with survivors and listening to their stories with respect and compassion) contact Rev. Amanda Currie (242-0525, email hidden; JavaScript is required).
• Attend the Presbyterian Luncheon on Saturday, June 23^rd NOON – 2 pm at St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church, 436 Spadina Crescent E, Saskatoon. RSVP to the church office at St. Andrew’s by Saturday, June 16^th (242-0525, email hidden; JavaScript is required). This event is planned for Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Presbyterians to be together, to share food and fellowship, and to join in a sharing circle. Special guests will include Chief Norma Johnstone of Mistawasis First Nation and the Rev. Dr. John Vissers, Moderator of the 138^th General Assembly, along with other national representatives of the PCC and the Women’s Missionary Society.

The Session of St. Andrew’s has agreed to encourage donations to buy t-shirts for the campers this summer, and we hope that you will want to help out. For only $10 you can buy a shirt for a camper, and for $100 you can buy shirts for a whole cabin group! Our goal is to raise enough money for 250 shirts. (That’s just about one shirt per member of St. Andrew’s!)

When you donate $10 we will hang another “shirt” on the clothes line and put your first name on it. If you donate $100 we’ll put a really big shirt on the line to represent your really big gift.

Do you remember the story of Peter and Cornelius? It comes just before the section from the Book of Acts that William read for us this morning.

Cornelius was a Roman Centurion. He was a devout man who feared God. He prayed diligently and gave generously to the poor, but he was a Gentile. And one day, Cornelius has a vision. An angel appears to him and tells him to send a couple of servants to a place called Joppa to find a man named Simon Peter. And so he did.

Meanwhile, the Apostle Peter goes up on his roof to pray, and he sees a vision too. He sees the sky open up, and something like a large sheet coming down, being lowered to the ground by its four corners. In it are all kinds of four-footed creatures and reptiles and birds of the air. Then he hears a voice saying, “Get up, Peter; kill and eat.”

Peter is obviously shocked because these are animals that Jews like him don’t normally eat. He says, “By no means, Lord; for I have never eaten anything that is profane or unclean.” But the voice is insistent. It repeats the instruction again and again and says, “What God has made clean, you must not call profane.”

But before Peter has had a chance to think about what the vision might mean, there is a knock at the door. Cornelius’ servants have arrived and they are asking for Peter. The Spirit of God prompts Peter to receive the guests, and then to go with them the next day to the home of Cornelius.

Of course, Peter was probably terribly uncomfortable with the whole thing. He was a Jew, and he knew that it was unlawful for a Jew to associate with or to visit a Gentile. But God had shown him in the vision that he should not call anything (or anyone) profane or unclean. So when he was sent for, he went without objection.

Then Peter began to speak to them: “I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him.

“You know the message he sent to the people of Israel, preaching peace by Jesus Christ—he is Lord of all. That message spread throughout Judea, beginning in Galilee after the baptism that John announced: how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power; how he went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him.

“We are witnesses to all that he did both in Judea and in Jerusalem. They put him to death by hanging him on a tree; but God raised him on the third day and allowed him to appear, not to all the people but to us who were chosen by God as witnesses, and who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead. He commanded us to preach to the people and to testify that he is the one ordained by God as judge of the living and the dead. All the prophets testify about him that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.”

As Peter preached and the people listened, the Holy Spirit fell upon them. And the other Jewish Christians who had come along with Peter were astounded at what was happening. They could hardly believe their eyes! The gift of the Spirit was being poured out on these Gentiles just as it had come upon the group of disciples on the day of Pentecost. These Gentiles were even speaking in tongues!

In a wonderful reflection on this text, Jeffrey Peterson-Davis notes that while Peter and Cornelius have central roles in this narrative, it is not a story about them. Rather, it is a story about the Holy Spirit and how the Spirit’s purposes are accomplished in spite of the boundaries constructed by humans.”

William Willimon comments that “the real ‘hero’ of this story, the ‘star’ of the drama is not Peter nor Cornelius but the gracious and prodding One who makes bold promises and keeps them, who finds a way even in the midst of human distinctions and partiality between humans.”

The Holy Spirit was working in a powerful transformation among the early Christians. Their perspective of who was “in” and who was “out” was being changed not by their own doing, but by the intervention of the Holy Spirit. The boundaries of the “inner circle” kept widening to the point that the assumed boundaries were no longer legitimate.

Once the Spirit of God had done its thing among them, the surprised Apostle could only ask, “Can anyone withhold the water for baptizing these people who have received the Holy Spirit just as we have?” Just a day before, Peter never would have imagined something like this, but now he could not deny that these too were God’s People.

It would be nice to think that we have moved well past this lesson that the earliest Christians were learning so many centuries ago. But as Peterson-Davis writes, “This is [still] an important text for the church today. Not only do the wounds of exclusion run deep in our culture and in the church; the realities of uncrossed boundaries still exist. Neither society nor the church has overcome racism, sexism, classism, ageism, nationalism, heterosexism, and other prejudices. We continue to propagate segregation in many forms as we hold firm to the visible and invisible boundaries between “us” and “them.”

Reflecting on the outpouring of the Holy Spirit to the Gentiles, can we imagine what the Spirit might do with relations between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people in our community? Is it possible to imagine the Christian community embracing the full participation and leadership of women and men, young and old, poor and wealthy, straight and gay, and people with more or less formal education, and so on? Can we imagine any boundaries so rigid as to be impassable by the Holy Spirit?

The witness of the text is that neither Peter nor Cornelius was able to cross the boundaries on their own. But the outpouring of the Holy Spirit empowered each of them to move from their segregated places. The Holy Spirit broke the barriers between Jew and Gentile. The Holy Spirit propelled the witness of the resurrection beyond the boundaries of Jerusalem and Galilee.

In a similar way, we must open our ears and our eyes and our hearts to receive the Spirit’s guidance and instruction for our life and ministry. Jesus has called us friends so that we may know what he is doing and join in his important work of spreading the Good News far and wide. We did not choose him, but he chose us. And he appointed us to go and bear fruit.

“This is my commandment,” Jesus said, “that you love one another as I have loved you… I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.”

May the Spirit blow through our lives and our church, guiding us to wisdom and courage and new possibilities for loving one another as Jesus has loved us. Amen.

When I finished secondary school the world was a different place from what it is today. The globe was divided into three “worlds”: the first or “free” world, the second or communist world, and the third world. The first and second worlds had been in a so-called Cold War for over forty years, and competed with each other for the loyalty of the third world. By the time I started my first year of university relations between the main antagonists of the Cold War—the USA and the USSR—had improved a bit. Mostly this was because the Soviet Premier, Mikhail Gorbachev, had made efforts to reform his country’s economy and allow more openness in society. Still, when I turned 18 in late October of 1989 there was no reason to think that the Cold War would end anytime soon.

But then one day, the world changed.

I will never forget walking into the TV room of my university residence on 9th November 1989—what I saw on the screen was a picture I’d never have imagined. People were standing on top of the Berlin Wall in front of the Brandenburg Gate. People were standing and cheering and laughing and hugging each other on a place where only the previous day they would have been shot outright. It was unbelievable.

As I tell my students in my first-year European History survey, within eight weeks of the “fall” of the Berlin Wall, the communist regimes of central Europe had essentially collapsed—mostly non-violently. At a stroke, it seemed, the Cold War was over. Premier Gorbachev said as much at Stanford University Business School in February 1990. European and North American statesmen and stateswomen got together later that same year to celebrate the dawn of a new era. At the end of their meetings they released what they called A Charter for a New Europe.

The document opened with a ringing affirmation that things were different:
Europe is liberating itself from the legacy of the past. The era of confrontation and division of Europe has ended. After two disastrous world wars and decades of Cold-War tension, peace was at hand—so it seemed.

But peace was not at hand. Peace was not at hand for the people of southeastern Europe, for the people of Sarajevo, Srebrenica, Mostar, Kosovo and Belgrade.
The world was different, the Cold War was over, communism as a political force in European politics had collapsed, but there was still conflict, still confrontation and division. The world was different, but sadly all too similar to before.

Events like the end of the cold war and its shattered promise of peace make me wonder about the sort of change that really lasts, that really makes a difference.
It is really the case that the more things change the more they stay the same?
The gospel reading for today invites us to think about Big Events and about what is different and what is the same afterwards.

What can we do, what ought we to do, in light of world-altering change? World-altering change need not be only the result of the sort of Big Events I’ve been talking about so far, like the end of the Cold War, or September 11. There are Big Events for our community, our families, and our church.

What should we conserve? What should we cast aside? And, the question arises from our Gospel reading: what new thing, what new challenge does the marvellous, unexpected and transformative reality of the Risen Jesus call us to embrace?

The gospel reading for today reminds us that the Risen Jesus gives us freedom (and power) to risk what we thought was forever for the unfolding reality of God’s purpose for us and for the world (repeat).

There are two aspects of the story in Luke 24 I want to highlight. One is about the difference the resurrection makes for understanding who Jesus is. The text is very clear—the risen Jesus is the same person as the crucified Jesus. In the story, the disciples are gathered together on Easter Sunday evening, having just heard from the two disciples who’d met Jesus on the road to Emmaus.

While they were trying to get their heads around this news, suddenly there was Jesus himself, standing in their midst. They were terrified and incredulous. They couldn’t believe their eyes—they thought they were seeing a ghost—an ethereal creature from the world of the dead.

But no, Jesus was not a ghost—the Risen Jesus had—has—a body one can touch and see. “Look at my hands and my feet” Jesus said, “see that it is I myself.” Touch me and feel that I’m real!

Jesus then proved he’s a body not a ghost by asking for a snack; before his disciples eyes he ate a piece of cooked fish. No ghost could do that, only someone with a body. Still, the disciples did not really get it; they couldn’t really believe that it was Jesus. “In the joy of their disbelieving” says Luke, meaning they thought it was just too good to be true.

But it was true; it really was Jesus. The same person crucified on Good Friday is standing before the disciples on Easter Sunday evening. He is the same, but he’s also different. He has a body, a body his followers can see and touch, a body that can take on solid food, but also a body that can suddenly “be” amongst them.

The Risen Jesus has a body that identifies him as Jesus (the crucified one) but that is not identical to his old body. It’s the same AND it’s different. What the disciples thought was real and forever—Jesus is dead—wasn’t the case: Jesus was alive. But he was newly alive, differently alive than they had ever imagined was possible. God had raised Jesus to a new kind of life—one where he was the same person but also really, radically different.

To convince the disciples of this, Jesus turned their attention from his body to the Bible. “Everything written about me in the Law of Moses, the prophets and the psalms must be fulfilled.” Here too was some new out of something old, the “Old Testament” to be exact. Jesus opened his disciples’ minds to show them that what the Bible was all about all along was what had happened to him—God’s anointed one, God’s champion on earth, God’s Messiah, must suffer and die and then be raised.

The disciples, and the people more generally hadn’t seen that in the Scriptures in that way before—they thought Messiah was supposed come and liberate God’s people from their suffering and oppression. Not suffer and die a shameful death. The message of Scripture, Jesus was saying, is that God’s servant gets beaten up, rejected, afflicted, cursed and killed—and that this has been God’s plan all along. In fact, it completes or “fulfills” what’s been happening in Scripture up till then. Jesus’ life and mission were line with God’s plans from the very beginning, going all the way back to Abraham, and Moses and David and all the prophets like Isaiah.

Jesus began his ministry in his hometown synagogue by reading from the Isaiah scroll:
The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners… Then he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant and sat down. The eyes of everyone in the synagogue were fastened on him. 21He began by saying to them, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.” (Luke 4. 18-20, 21)

Peter echoes this message in Acts 3 to the crowd that had gathered around him after healing the disabled man at the Temple: Jesus was rejected by his own people; his own people killed him, but God raised him from the dead. “This is how God fulfilled what he had foretold all through the prophets…” That was the unexpected message—that the Messiah should suffer and die was really the completion of God’s plan all along.

Jesus’ ministry was an offer—repent and receive God’s forgiveness. Turn your life around and accept God’s welcome—come to the banquet that’s prepared for everyone who wants to join in! And here came another unexpected thing: the thrust of the message is expansive—goes out—and inclusive. The offer of repentance is for all people. Forgiveness is for the whole world. Jesus’ ministry was in line with God’s plan for his people Israel and the whole world. Now, after Easter, after seeing and hearing the Risen Jesus, responsibility for that mission falls to the disciples, to the Church, to you and to me.

What new thing, what new challenge does the marvellous, unexpected and transformative reality of the Risen Jesus call us to embrace? For one thing, it calls us to live out the expansive and inclusive thrust of the gospel. It starts in Jerusalem but is for the whole world. It starts with what and who we are, and dares us to be and to think different in light of the new reality of the Risen Jesus.
The Risen Jesus gives us freedom (and power) to risk what we thought was forever for the unfolding reality of God’s purpose for us and for the world.

God’s purpose is expansive and inclusive—it is for all people. But it starts with particular people at a certain place at a certain time: a few dozen disciples in Jerusalem. A few dozen Presbyterians in central Saskatoon. God starts with people willing to risk what they thought was forever for the unfolding reality of God’s purpose for us and for the world. Like a handful of young people who probably imagined that they would live and die in Galilee, that what they knew would last forever, that is until they encountered Jesus the Christ.

Change happens, some of it massive and monumental; some of it tiny and incremental. What new thing, what new challenge does the marvellous, unexpected and transformative reality of the Risen Jesus call us to embrace?
This province, this city, is not what it was a decade ago. Change has come to Saskatchewan, and for many people, the changes have been very good. But the times have not been equally good for everyone.

This is a reality Stewart Folster and the staff at Native Circle Ministry encounter almost every day. The “Saskaboom” has tripled the value of many peoples’ homes while leaving others homeless. Revd Folster challenged us a few weeks ago with some radical proposals to deal with the Ministry’s impending deficit: seek funding from Aboriginal-run casinos; partner with non-Christian communities. Can we even imagine such things? On the other hand, could the disciples have imagined that first Easter Sunday that before too long they would be worshipping with foreigners—basically the enemies of their people—and that they would cast aside centuries of tradition for the sake of welcoming non-Jews into the Church?

God starts with people willing to risk what they thought was forever for the unfolding reality of God’s purpose for us and for the world. The disciples encountered the Risen Jesus and it transformed what they understood about God’s plans for them and for the world. The world changed, and they were changed. But not totally—they were still the same people, doing the same sort of work for God that God had been inspiring and empowering and challenging all along. Similar to the Risen Jesus—they were different but still the same.
Like so many people in Europe, Corrie Ten Boom’s life was changed profoundly by the Second World War. In 1972 she penned a short account about a personal risk she took just after the War for the sake of God’s expansive and inclusive purposes.

It was in a church in Munich that I saw him, a balding heavy-set man in a gray overcoat, a brown felt hat clutched between his hands. People were filing out of the basement room where I had just spoken. It was 1947 and I had come from Holland to defeated Germany with the message that God forgives. … And that’s when I saw him, working his way forward against the others. One moment I saw the overcoat and the brown hat; the next, a blue uniform and a visored cap with its skull and crossbones. It came back with a rush: the huge room with its harsh overhead lights, the pathetic pile of dresses and shoes in the center of the floor, the shame of walking naked past this man.

I could see my sister’s frail form ahead of me, ribs sharp beneath the parchment skin. Betsie, how thin you were! Betsie and I had been arrested for concealing Jews in our home during the Nazi occupation of Holland; this man had been a guard at Ravensbruck concentration camp where we were sent. … “You mentioned Ravensbruck in your talk,” he was saying. “I was a guard in there.” No, he did not remember me. “But since that time,” he went on, “I have become a Christian. I know that God has forgiven me for the cruel things I did there, but I would like to hear it from your lips as well. Fraulein, …” his hand came out, … “will you forgive me?”

And I stood there — I whose sins had every day to be forgiven — and could not. Betsie had died in that place — could he erase her slow terrible death simply for the asking? It could not have been many seconds that he stood there, hand held out, but to me it seemed hours as I wrestled with the most difficult thing I had ever had to do. For I had to do it — I knew that. The message that God forgives has a prior condition: that we forgive those who have injured us.

“If you do not forgive men their trespasses,” Jesus says, “neither will your Father in heaven forgive your trespasses.” … And still I stood there with the coldness clutching my heart. But forgiveness is not an emotion — I knew that too. Forgiveness is an act of the will, and the will can function regardless of the temperature of the heart. “Jesus, help me!” I prayed silently. “I can lift my hand, I can do that much. You supply the feeling.”

And so woodenly, mechanically, I thrust my hand into the one stretched out to me. And as I did, an incredible thing took place. The current started in my shoulder, raced down my arm, sprang into our joined hands. And then this healing warmth seemed to flood my whole being, bringing tears to my eyes. “I forgive you, brother!” I cried. “With all my heart!” For a long moment we grasped each other’s hands, the former guard and the former prisoner. I had never known God’s love so intensely as I did then.1

“This is what is written: The Messiah will suffer and rise from the dead on the third day, and repentance for the forgiveness of sins will be preached in his name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.”

That day in 1947, Corrie Ten Boom took a huge risk; she risked forgiveness and was a witness to the reality of Easter and the risen Jesus. Lord, make us witnesses of your peace. Amen.

1 Guidepost article ©1972 “I’m Still Learning to Forgive”

Saskatchewan Presbyterian Youth (SPY) will be holding a weekend about food and faith on April 27-29 at Knox Presbyterian Church in Briercrest, SK. All youth from grade 7 to age 25 are invited to participate. The cost of the weekend is $50 per person, and assistance with the fee is available if needed. Deadline for registering is Sunday, April 22nd!

Spring Tea & Bake Sale: The Women’s League of St. Andrew’s will be hosting their annual Spring Tea and Bake Sale in the lower hall of the church on Saturday, April 28^th from 2:00-4:00 pm. Everyone is welcome! ***Donations of baking are appreciated.***

The fourth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles provides us with an idyllic picture of the church at the beginning: “The whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul.” Now that’s unity! They were “of one heart and soul.” Of course, maybe that’s because there weren’t very many of them yet. They were just a small group of disciples who had a lot in common with each other and managed to keep the same perspective on most things.

Well, no. They weren’t that small a group. Even before the day of Pentecost when the Spirit was poured out on the gathered disciples, there were about a hundred of them waiting together in Jerusalem. And after that, the church grew in leaps and bounds!

And no, they weren’t all fishermen from Galilee. Remember the Jews from all the nations of the world who were in Jerusalem to celebrate the feast of Pentecost? And remember how they heard the disciples speaking in their own various languages? After Peter’s first sermon to the crowd, apparently 3000 believers were added to their number, and more and more every day after that!

By the fourth chapter of Acts, the church must have numbered around 5000 people, and it would have included people from various countries, cultures, languages, and backgrounds. They were probably mostly Jewish Christians – but still, it’s pretty amazing that they were getting along well and unified in heart and soul.

The account tells us that “those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common. With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned land or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. They laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need.”

I wonder if it was really like that. I wonder if it really could have been that perfect, or if the description in Acts is more like a “those were the days” memory of the beginning of things. I’ve heard people talk about the “good old days” of the church and the “good old days” of society too. The ministers always preached powerful and inspiring sermons. The children and young people came to church every Sunday, sometimes twice. The women’s group had plenty of volunteers. And the offering plate was full even though the people had way less disposable income to give.

And in society… neighbours knew each other and looked out for each other’s children, and you didn’t have to lock your doors, and people visited each other instead of just texting back and forth, and oh yes, they said the Lord’s prayer in school each morning.

Sometimes it’s nice to look back and remember the good old days. But if we’re honest, we’ll also remember some things that weren’t quite as good… people with disabilities who were treated poorly, women who were not given the same opportunities as their brothers, minority groups that were discriminated against or harassed, Native Canadians who were considered to be uncivilized and were treated accordingly.

Bit by bit, and step by step, we’ve come a long way since those “good old days.” We’ve probably lost some aspects of our churches and society that we believe made us strong, but we’ve also made a lot of changes that are for the better.

And the early Christian church changed too. It wasn’t long before they realized that they weren’t living up to the ideal of “there was no needy person among them.” Soon some of the widows were being neglected in the distribution of food and they had to make some changes in roles and responsibilities in order to fix the problem.

They basically came up with the role of deacons or diaconal ministry in the church – specific people with the task of serving the community and making sure that no one was left out. It would be nice if everyone could just get taken care of automatically, but sometimes these things take some co-ordination so they had to make a change.

I wonder if they argued over the change… It doesn’t say anything about an argument in the book of Acts, but you know how difficult change can be in any organization! Did they bad-mouth each other and blame each other for a while before figuring out a solution to the problem? Or did they just get down to work together to fix it?

By the time the letter known as 1^st John was written, there was no doubt that the Christian Church was no longer the perfect, loving, unified community that it once was – if it ever really was like that. By the early 2^nd century, the church had not only grown and spread, but it had diversified significantly. There would have been all kinds of different perspectives on God, on Jesus, on how Jesus’ followers should live, and what the purpose of the church should be.

In a very real way, one of the main purposes of the various letters that we read in the New Testament, was to attempt to bring the church together. The apostles wanted to give instruction and guide the dispersed Christians in the way of Jesus. They wanted to clarify what Christians were supposed to believe, and keep them from getting led astray by false doctrines.

Letters like 1^st John were written, not for a particular Christian church in a particular town, but they were written as pastoral letters to be circulated through the various churches. As the various communities read these same letters, their leaders hoped that they would come to share in the same faith and hope, and that they would be drawn together in unity.

And so the authors of the pastoral letter wrote: “We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life.” They’re talking about Jesus, of course. And they’re claiming the authority of having known him themselves. Christ is not simply an idea, or a Spirit that hovers about. But Jesus was a human person who lived, and loved, and died, and was raised. These authors are saying that they knew him, and saw him, and touched him, and they want to share what they know.

They continue: “We declare to you what we have seen and heard so that you also may have fellowship with us.” They are drawing more people into the Christian community, we might assume. Or perhaps, they are sharing their perspective with Christians from whom they have become estranged. Maybe they disagreed about something and cut off the fellowship. Maybe they had an argument and decided to part ways.

But these early Christians believe that being in relationship with one another is of utmost importance. And the way to initiate that relationship is to begin by sharing their faith in Jesus Christ. They want to have fellowship with their estranged sisters and brothers, and they realize that the way to establish that fellowship is through their shared fellowship with God and Jesus Christ.

If I love God, and he loves God, then we must be able to love one another! It’s like when you get married to someone, you can’t really marry them without coming into relationship with their family, and their best friends, and all those that they care about.

As much as I imagine that these early Christian leaders were pretty content with their faith, they are writing the letter “so that [their] joy may be complete.” The Christian community cannot experience true joy when there remains conflict, division, and estrangement among its members and groups.

The letter known as first John uses the image of God as light – a significant image that the authors probably picked up from the Gospel of John where Christ is the light shining into the darkness of the world. They explain that “God is light and in him there is no darkness at all.” And so, they argue “if we say that we have fellowship with God while we are walking in darkness, we lie and do not do what is true.”

Of course, light exposes our deeds. Light reveals the truth. Light requires us to do what is right. If we’re walking with God, we’re walking in the light, the letter writers say. If we’re walking in darkness, keeping our actions secret, doing what we want because no one can see us and call us on it, then we’re not walking with God. That’s all there is to it.

On the other hand, if we will walk in the light, as God is in the light, then our actions will be exposed, and we will be called to do what is right, and we will be able to restore our relationships and enjoy fellowship with one another because we will have put away the sins and errors that caused our conflict in the first place.

Unity does not mean uniformity. And fellowship does not mean that we are all exactly the same as each other, or that we agree with each other all the time. Unity means that we agree on the big stuff, on the broad strokes of what it means to be followers of Jesus together. And fellowship means that we stay together and keep on working out the details together. It means keeping mind that if I love God, and she loves God, then we have to be able to figure out a way to love one another because we share in the same fellowship with God and Jesus Christ.

As a member of an interchurch marriage, I often get focussed on what I believe is the very important task of working towards the unity of the whole Christian church. The disagreements and divisions between the churches throughout history are a scandal, and the churches need to work together to mend the brokenness in the one body of Christ.

But I also realize that there is a great deal of work yet to be done within the Presbyterian Church in Canada – to build relationships between congregations, clergy, and ministries in different parts of the country and perhaps with different ways of doing things.

And there must always be attention paid to the unity of each congregation and community within the congregation. That means developing good communication patterns. It means creating opportunities for input and discussion on important decisions. It means listening to one another, and seeking to understand. And it means engaging with the community in ways that are respectful of our neighbours, whether we agree with them or not.

As the early Christian church was unified, and yet struggled with disagreement and division, our congregation will likely always need to work on living together in unity and common purpose. Bit by bit, we will continue to change (as the early church changed as well) and hopefully, most of those changes will be for the better.

As we continue the journey together, may God’s Spirit give us the power to forgive one another, and to grow in unity as God’s people in this place. Amen.

I guess it wouldn’t have been unusual for the crowds to gather near Bethany, just outside Jerusalem. Especially in the days leading up to one of the great festivals, people would come out of their homes to welcome the pilgrims. There would have been lots of pilgrims on the road, making their way from the little towns and villages, going up to Jerusalem to worship at the temple.

For many it would have been a long journey, something for which they had planned and anticipated, perhaps for years. They walked with their families and friends, camping beside the road, and sharing provisions with others that they met along the way.

When the pilgrims got to Bethany they knew that they were almost there, and the excitement was palpable. Those who lived nearby came out to greet them, almost as if they were in a parade. And I imagine the people singing as they walked, singing the joyful pilgrimage psalms written especially for occasions such as these: “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest!”

And so Jesus came into Jerusalem. He and his friends joined in the procession and were greeted by the singing and cheering crowds as they went up to Jerusalem to celebrate God’s mercy and love at the Passover.

But as the Gospel writers tell the story of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem, they tell us in various ways that this was no ordinary procession. This was a parade like no other because it was Jesus who was the focal point of all the attention.

Mark’s version of the story describes the parade only briefly. But first he goes into great detail about getting the donkey for Jesus to ride on. Jesus sends two disciples ahead into the village, and he tells them where they will find a young donkey (a colt) tied up. Maybe it was at the house of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, Jesus’ friends from Bethany. If anyone asks why they are taking it, the disciples are to respond, “The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately.”

There are a couple of interesting things about that. First: Why did Jesus need the colt? Not because he was tired of walking, but because it was a symbolic action to ride in on a donkey. Riding, rather than walking, was a sign of royalty. Riding a donkey, rather than a big horse, was a sign of a king who came in peace rather than war. Riding on an animal that had never before been ridden was a sign of a great honour.

And Jesus was starkly contrasted from the Roman authorities of the day by the fact that he promised to return the animal right away. Roman commanders would have marched in and taken what they needed without thought for the people who depended on the animals for their livelihood.

And so, in such a simple action of riding into the city on the back of a donkey, Jesus casts himself in the role of the King of peace who is above all, and yet shows respect and care for his people.

And as he approaches, the people do something special, something they wouldn’t have normally done for the other pilgrims. They take off their cloaks and spread them on the roadway. They cut leafy branches and put them down on the road where he will soon pass by.

And like in any religious procession, they sing praises to God: “Hosanna! Hosanna to the King! Hosanna! Hosanna to the King!” But now these words have added meaning, for Jesus is showing himself to be the one for whom they have been waiting. Jesus is the ancestor of David, the long-awaited King of righteousness and peace, the blessed one who comes in the name of the Lord.

On Palm Sunday, we are invited to place ourselves within the crowds on that festive day. We can imagine ourselves taking off our coats and spreading them out on the dusty road. We don’t care if they get dirty and dusty. We just want to give praise and honour to Jesus our Lord. But we must also ask ourselves, as Matt asked the children this morning: What can we do to honour Jesus today?

Of course, we can sing our praise to him. On Palm Sunday, indeed on every Sunday, we can dedicate ourselves to worshipping God in Jesus Christ. We can sing out loud (no matter what our voices sound like) and praise God like we mean it. And in our music God will be glorified.

We can honour Christ is quieter ways as well. When we set aside this time on Sunday mornings and at other times throughout the week to pause and to acknowledge God’s presence and power, we also honour Christ. When we remove ourselves from the rush of our daily lives, and we give our attention to what God might say to us today, we honour Christ.

Many Christians discover other ways to honour Christ through the ministries of the church. They dedicate time and attention to visiting the sick, teaching the children, praying for those in trouble or grief, giving to missions and ministries within and beyond our congregation, and using their gifts of hospitality to serve one another and the wider community. When we do all these things, we honour Christ our Lord.

As we discussed in our “Growing God’s Gifts” program, discovering our spiritual gifts and talents is just the first step. It’s when we begin to make use of our gifts to serve God and our neighbours that we truly praise and honour Christ.

When you use your gift of listening to care for a neighbour or a colleague who is hurting… you honour Christ.

When you use your gift of hospitality to welcome newcomers to Canada and help them to feel at home… you honour Christ.

When you use your gift of leadership to orient a new staff member or to encourage your company to make good, ethical decisions… you honour Christ.

When you use your gift of prayer to bring comfort and encouragement to someone who is feeling alone… you honour Christ.

When you use your gift of social justice by working with the poor, or advocating for the oppressed, or voting to care for those who are in need, rather than for those who have more than they need… you honour Christ.

When you use your gift of evangelism by sharing your faith in word, in action, and by example… you honour Christ.

These are things that so many of you are already doing week by week and day by day. And so, we simply pause to give thanks for all these gifts of the Spirit and all these efforts to put our gifts to good use for the glory of God.

Palm Sunday is a critical moment in our faith. It’s a moment when we raise our voices to praise Jesus our King with our songs and with our lives. But we are also so very aware of what follows the triumphal entry for Jesus and his friends.

The voices that sang out so joyfully and loud are silenced. The feet that ran and danced beside him on the road are scattered away. The praise and honour that was so freely given is quickly retracted when following Jesus becomes so dangerous.

One reflection that I read on this text suggested that the people had “fallen in love” with Jesus, but they hadn’t yet learned to LOVE him. The author said that “falling in love” is about that wonderful feeling you get in your heart – the flutter, the excitement, the wonderful anticipation… But learning TO LOVE is something different. It’s the faithfulness and commitment to relationship and care that may well begin with falling in love. But then it grows, and settles, and becomes steady and sure. And no matter what happens – the good, the bad, the predictable, and the unexpected – love remains, love stays by your side, love is there.

I know… not everyone comes to the special worship services that we have during Holy Week. Perhaps they seem like something extra for those who are especially “in love” with Jesus. But really, they are for everyone… for everyone who has experienced the faithful, steady love of God in Jesus Christ, and for everyone who seeks to respond to his love by loving in return.

As we journey through this week, we will walk with Jesus past the cheering crowds and into the difficulties that will follow. We will allow him to love us by washing our feet and serving us a holy meal. And we will stay with him through the agony of betrayal, denial, abandonment, and death. We will share in his suffering, as so often he has shared in ours. And then, on the third day, we will share in his joy and gladness as well.

As the people once spread their coats on the roadway to honour Christ the King, let us also do all that we can to praise and honour our Lord – with our songs, in our lives, by loving him and walking with him all the way. Amen.

In the Lectionary Story Bible that I read from with the children this morning, there’s a note to parents and leaders just after today’s readings. “Each of the Gospels,” it explains, “tells the key story of Jesus’ crucifixion… The sixth Sunday in Lent was traditionally observed as ‘Palm Sunday” focusing on the story of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. In order that people may also hear the story of Jesus’ crucifixion, many churches focus this Sunday on the story of Jesus’ death as well.”

And here’s the warning to parents and leaders: “Please read this story carefully before you share it with children. Some of them may find it upsetting.” Some of them may find it upsetting. Imagine that! It’s the story of Jesus – and they’ve heard about him often enough. He’s the one who loves children and welcomes them. He’s the one who heals people and multiplies a feast so that everyone is well fed. He’s the one that they are told loves them, and they are encouraged to love him also.

And now, in this rather upsetting story, Jesus is being unjustly accused, unfairly arrested, shockingly tortured, and ultimately killed on a cross. It’s not surprising that some children might be upset. Some adults might get riled up by it too, if we’re paying attention.

I think the problem is that we’ve gotten so used to the death of Jesus. We’ve come to expect it, and even to accept it. It doesn’t shock or horrify us anymore. And we’ve gotten quite used to calling the day he died “Good Friday.”

Compared to the other accounts of Jesus’ death in the synoptic Gospels, the author of John’s Gospel portrays Jesus as very strong and confident as he goes to the cross. The Jesus of Mark and Matthew’s Gospels is clearly upset. He cries out to God from the cross, saying “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus maintains his composure, praying that God will forgive those who are crucifying him and then just before he dies, crying out to God to receive his spirit.

But in John’s account, Jesus speaks to his mother and the beloved disciple and tells them, essentially, to look after each other. And then after requesting a sip of wine, he declares “It is finished,” he bows his head, and he dies. Jesus had a job to do, a mission to be accomplished, and it is finished. He has completed it. Today’s Gospel reading points towards that mission and invites us to ponder how Jesus’ death accomplished it.

Clearly, in our Gospel reading, Jesus is not looking forward to the completion of his mission. He may know exactly what he’s doing, and he may know that it has to be done, but he’s certainly not excited about it. He’s troubled by what is going to happen next. He’s tempted to back out of the plan. But he knows that this has always been his mission, and he wants to glorify God.

Jesus has gone up to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover with his disciples. And among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks, John’s Gospel tells us. They came to Philip… and said to him, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus.

And that’s how Jesus knew that it was time. When Philip and Andrew come to him and tell him that some Greeks wish to see him, Jesus somehow knows that the hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. There isn’t a lot of explanation about how he knows that it’s time. But for some reason, when these Greeks come wanting to see him, he knows that everyone needs to see him. And the only way to accomplish that is for Jesus to die so that he can draw all people to [himself].

Jesus tries to explain it to his first disciples, and we listen in and try to understand as well: Very truly, I tell you, Jesus says, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.

We hear it all the time… Jesus died for us. Jesus died to save us. Jesus died and was raised so that we might have life. But what do we mean when we say this? Why did Jesus’ feel that his death was necessary? How did Jesus’ death somehow draw all people to himself? In what sense is Jesus’ death for us, or to save us?

The fact is that different churches and different theologians explain it in different ways. In fact, the four Gospels explain it different ways, and the apostle Paul has a different take on it too. But for today, let’s look at John’s perspective. According to John’s Gospel, Jesus is like a grain of wheat that falls into the earth and dies. And because it dies, it bears much fruit. Jesus has to die, John’s Gospel argues, because when he dies, and when he is lifted up for all people to see, he will draw all people to himself. He will draw all people to God.

In a reflection on this text in “Feasting on the Word,” Charles Campbell argues that John is not really concerned with the forgiveness of individual sins. John isn’t saying that Jesus had to die so that God would forgive you for the bad things you’ve done. Nor does John proclaim a form of substitutionary atonement, through which Jesus takes on the divine punishment that human beings deserve, in order to relieve us of our condemnation and guilt.

In John’s Gospel, as Campbell explains it, Jesus’ crucifixion judges “the world” and drives out the “ruler of the world.” That’s what Jesus’ death accomplishes. That’s the work that Jesus dreads, and knows he has to do, and finally completes just as he dies. “It is finished,” he proclaims from the cross. The “ruler of the world” has been driven out, and all people are free to come to God and to rest in God’s love.

To make sense of what is happening here, Campbell compares Jesus’ crucifixion to an exorcism. The fallen world that exists in estrangement from God is judged. And it is found to be driven, not by the will of God, but by a spirit or force (the ruler of the world) whose ways are domination, violence, and death. That evil force is identified, and grabbed hold of, and cast out – like a demon being cast out of a tormented individual.

Walter Wink identifies violence as an important aspect of the world that is judged by Jesus’ work on the cross. Wink talks about the “myth of redemptive violence” as a primary myth of the corrupted world that we live in. According this myth, the way to bring order out of chaos is through violently defeating “the other.” And the way to deal with threats from enemies is by violently eliminating them – as the world seeks to do with Jesus.

This myth plays itself out everywhere in our culture. We see it in the old, almost archetypal, Popeye cartoons in which Popeye restores order by eating his spinach and beating up Brutus. We see it in video games and movies that train our children in this myth from their earliest days. More seriously, we see it in the death penalty, in acts of terrorism, and in nations’ responses to terrorism. Many of us have trouble even imagining alternatives to this myth – a grim signal of our captivity to it.

Throughout his journey to the cross, Jesus enacts his freedom from this myth of redemptive violence. He does this by refusing to respond in the world’s violent terms. Indeed, in his trial before Pilate, Jesus suggests that violence, which he rejects, is central to the ways of the fallen world. In response to Pilate’s questioning, Jesus replies, “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over… But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.” Jesus’ rejection of violence is precisely what distinguishes his way from the way of the world.

On the cross, Jesus publicly and dramatically judges the world by exposing it for what it is. And by exposing it, Jesus “casts out” its driving spirit. For once we have seen the fallen world for what it is, we begin to be set free from its captivating ways. We are set free to die to a life shaped by violence and domination, in order to live fully and freely in the way of Jesus.

Martin Luther King Jr.’s nonviolent campaigns illustrate Jesus’ work. When the white “powers-that-be” turned the hoses and dogs on the marchers – and the images were splashed across television – the reality of white racism was graphically and publicly exposed for all to see.

And King knew exactly what he was doing: “Let them get their dogs,” he shouted, “and let them get the hose, and we will leave them standing before their God and the world spattered with the blood and reeking with the stench of their Negro brothers.” It is necessary, he continued, “to bring these issues to the surface, to bring them out into the open where everybody can see them.” And King was to some degree successful. Once exposed, the spirit of racism began to lose some of its power over many people.

This is what happens on the cross. Jesus exposes the fallen world, and by exposing it he judges it and casts out its ruler. It’s not a pleasant story. It’s one that might well be upsetting to some children, and to some adults too when we pause to think about what happened to Jesus – about what he had to do in order to draw all people to God.

But as we continue this Lenten journey towards Good Friday and the cross, let us be mindful of those forces of domination, violence, and death that Jesus died to overcome. He died to overcome them, to unseat them from power, and we are no longer ruled by them. We are free to turn away from them and to turn towards his way. So with the help of God’s Spirit within us, let us follow the way of Jesus – his way of love, and forgiveness, and even sacrifice in the midst of a violent world. Amen.

Holy Week is a special time of worship, reflection, and celebration in the church. Mark your calendar today, and make time to worship together with your Presbyterian family this year.

• On Sunday, April 1^st Holy Week begins with Palm Sunday. We will gather at St. Andrew’s for worship at 11:00 am, remembering Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem and joining with the crowds in singing “Hosanna” and hailing him as King.

It’s always interesting to hear your responses to my sermons. Whether you were inspired, confused, challenged, or blessed… whether you agreed wholeheartedly with what I said, or you want to tell me about an alternate perspective. It was a couple of months ago, I think, and I had preached a sermon that proclaimed the inherent goodness that God has planted within each human being.

I don’t think I was denying the reality that human beings are sinful creatures. It is true: Every single one of us falls short of the glory of God and needs the mercy and grace of the God who loves us despite our failings. But I also believe that we are made to be good. We are gifted with the ability to love and forgive, to be faithful and kind to one another. God made us in God’s very own image, and that image is good, and that’s what I was talking about in that particular sermon.

One of the things that I heard after church that Sunday was the gentlest of criticisms, or perhaps just a reminder about the other side of the coin. The comment was something like this: “Sometimes I think we need to preach about sin also.” Yes, I agreed. Sometimes we do need to preach about sin.

 “Don’t you worry” I could have responded, “Lent is coming, and I’ll be sure to preach plenty about sin during Lent!” And Lent has indeed arrived – we’re more than half way through it – and today’s readings made me think that today might be the day to preach about sin.

I remember someone else telling me that I should preach about sin. It was a fellow from the congregation where I grew up, the father of some of my friends from church school days. When I was getting ready to go back to school and study to be a preacher, he told me what he thought a preacher should be like. He should preach with authority and power. He shouldn’t be afraid to raise his voice or to bang on the pulpit a little bit. He should tell the people what’s what so that they will know right from wrong. And he should definitely preach about sin on a regular basis – convict the people and convince them to turn back to God.

It’s a good thing that wasn’t my only model for preaching back then, because I don’t think I would have even given preaching a try if it had been. That just isn’t my style.

But even if I’m not going to yell at you this morning, and rant about all the bad things that you continue to do, and the good things that you fail to accomplish, I still need to speak about sin and evil because these things are a very real part of our lives and the world that we live in. We cannot let our worship or our faith become a place where we only talk about the God who loves us completely and unconditionally. (Not that it isn’t true…) But we cannot allow our faith to ignore the painful realities of our lives and our world – to adopt a kind of “Barney the dinosaur” theology that only says “I love you. You love me. We’re a happy family.”

This morning’s text from the Hebrew Scriptures is strange, don’t you think? In the midst of their long journey through the wilderness towards the Promised Land, the Hebrew people sin. They become impatient, and they speak against God and against Moses: “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and we detest this miserable food.” That’s not the strange part. That sounds like a pretty reasonable complaint in a difficult situation. The strange part comes next.

Instead of reassuring the people, or feeding the people, or encouraging the people to hang on just a little bit longer, God sends poisonous serpents among them. Many people are bitten, and they die.

And suddenly their attitude changes – the ones who are still alive, anyway. They immediately repent, they admit their bad attitudes and their snarky comments, and they ask Moses to ask God to help them. Moses does, and they receive these very strange instructions: “Make a poisonous serpent out of bronze, and set it on a pole; and everyone who is bitten shall look at it and live.”

Weird, huh? God doesn’t get rid of the poisonous serpents. And God doesn’t inoculate the people against the effects of the poison. And God doesn’t provide them with medicine to take when they get a snake bite. No, God tells them to make a bronze snake, and set it on a pole. And everyone who is bitten shall look at it and live. Just look at the snake.

The reality is that when we sin people get hurt. When we are unkind or unfaithful to our loved ones, the people we love are injured. When we perpetuate stereotypes or make racist comments, our neighbours are wounded.

When we fail to provide loving care for those who are sick or dying, or when we fail to provide for the poorest members of our society, or when we do not stand up for justice for all people throughout the world, people are hurt and damaged by our action or our inaction.

And God, no matter how much God loves us, does not wave a hand and wipe away the effects of our sin. No matter how much we may implore God to fix it, God does not snap his fingers and take away the hurt that we have caused by our sin. Just as God did not simply remove those poisonous serpents from the wilderness where the Hebrews were living.

Instead of taking away the snakes, God told the people to make a statue of one and put it on a pole. Don’t forget that there are poisonous snakes that may come out! This is what they look like! It was like a warning sign of sorts. When the people looked up at the snake on the pole, they remembered the effects of their sin. And maybe, when they looked at it, they changed their ways.

The text from John’s Gospel today makes reference to the first story. It begins, “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”

It’s only the fourth Sunday in Lent, but this reading is pointing us towards what we will pause to ponder on Good Friday. The author of John’s Gospel is talking about the crucifixion of Jesus. He’s telling us that the Son of Man – Jesus – had to be lifted up on a cross just like the bronze serpent was lifted up on a pole. And those who see him and believe, just like those who looked up at the snake, will live.

It’s the kind of statement that can sound pretty strange, especially to those who haven’t been hanging out in church circles for years and gotten used to the language and the ideas…. You just look up at a bronze serpent and you live? You just believe in Jesus and you are saved? You live forever just because of that? How odd, and how seemingly arbitrary!

But it’s not arbitrary. Really, it’s not. What is happening in the looking is that the people are being transformed.

Whether it’s the Hebrews looking at the devastating effect of their complaining and speaking against God, or any of us looking at the terrible, horrible impact of our human sin on the very Son of God, we come face to face with the results of our hatred, our neglect, our jealousy, our impatience, our selfishness, our laziness, our bitterness, and our pride.

Jesus on the cross is the ultimate example of the evil and injustice that is caused by our human sin, and he’s lifted up so that we can’t avoid looking at him, so that we can’t deny the things that we’ve done or failed to do. And eventually, if we are willing to look, so that we will be transformed.

When we were choosing the music for this morning’s service, we picked up the wonderful theme of “light” that is found in the Gospel text. Christ is the light that “has come into the world, and the people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.”

You see, it is Christ who shines light into darkness. Jesus’ life and ministry reveal the goodness of God, and his death on the cross reveals the sinfulness of human beings. In what Jesus does and in what is done to him, both good and evil are revealed and we cannot help but see them.

As some of you know, I’ve been attending quite a few meetings lately – representing the Presbyterian Church in Canada, along with the Rev. Sandy Scott from Prince Albert – as plans are made for the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s national event here in Saskatoon at the end of June. And as I reflected on these scripture texts this week, I couldn’t help but think of the TRC hearing process taking place across the country.

The whole point of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission is to make space for the truth about the Residential School system in Canada to be told and heard publicly. It’s not just about providing financial compensation for the students who attended the schools and were physically, sexually, or culturally abused. And it’s not just about government and churches making apologies to them either, although that is an important thing for us to do. But I think that more than anything, it’s about speaking the truth. It’s about survivors telling their stories and Canadians taking the time to listen and seek to understand.

Of course, looking at the effects of our sin is not easy. It’s not easy to look at the image of Christ bleeding and dying on a cross on Good Friday, and it’s not easy to sit and listen to the stories of those who were taken from their families as young children, made to live in the Residential Schools, and often physically and sexually abused.

If you go to one of the TRC hearings, you’ll notice little paper bags scattered throughout the room and marked with the word “tears.” There are many tears shed in those hearing rooms – by those who are telling their stories, by those who are sharing their pain, and by those who are coming face to face with their sin and the sin of the institutions to which we belong.

And when the people cry, they dry their eyes on tissues, and they put the tissues in those bags marked “tears.” When the national event happens in June, those tissues and the tears that they contain will go into the sacred fire and they will be burned. The tears of pain, and sharing pain, and telling the truth, and hearing the truth will be gathered together and burned.

And when the survivors, and their families, and others who will stand with them in solidarity stand around that sacred fire, I am sure that there will be healing taking place. It will be the kind of healing that cannot happen when our sins are hidden in dark places, when our failures are down-played, or ignored. It will be the kind of healing that only takes place when the lights are turned on, and the truth is spoken, and the sin is acknowledged.

The poisonous snake is lifted up on a pole. Our crucified Lord is lifted up on the cross. The truth about the Residential School system is told and heard and acknowledged.

But we must remember… as we journey towards Good Friday, as we prepare ourselves for the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, as we open our eyes to see any sin within our own particular lives… We must remember that “God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”

We give thanks for God’s mercy. We give thanks for God’s grace. We give thanks for God’s power to raise the dead, to redeem the world, to transform our lives and our relationships, and to bring healing and peace. Amen.

Today’s Gospel story is usually referred to as “the cleansing of the temple.” It’s the dramatic story, repeated in all four of the Gospels, in which Jesus enters the great temple in Jerusalem and makes a scene. He finds people in the temple selling cattle, sheep, and doves, and the money changers seated at their tables. He makes a whip of cords and drives all of them out. He pours out the coins and topples the tables. He yells, “Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!”

You’ve probably heard the story before once or twice. Maybe you’ve thought about how strange it is to imagine Jesus getting angry, and been reminded perhaps that even God gets angry when bad things are happening.

Perhaps you’ve read a bit about what these practices were all about. You’ve noticed that the story takes place at Passover, one of the great pilgrimage festivals. Jewish people would have travelled from all over Judah and Israel and sometimes even further to worship at the temple and celebrate God’s great love and protection of God’s people at the Passover.

When the pilgrims arrived at the temple they would want to make sacrifices of thanksgiving to God. Since they were travelling from afar, they wouldn’t be able to bring animals along with them. They needed cattle, sheep, and doves for these offerings, so they would purchase them on their way in to the temple. And since they needed to make a financial offering too, the money changers provided a needed service. They took the pilgrims’ foreign currency and exchanged it for temple currency.

But Jesus gets quite obviously angry, and he drives them all out. He yells at them and tells them that their practices are turning God’s house into a marketplace. Some of the other versions of the story in the other Gospels suggest that the temple is being changed from a house of prayer to a den of thieves, suggesting that there might be some cheating going on at these booths as well.

But even without the suggestion of cheating, the holy place just isn’t being set aside for prayer and worship and devotion. It’s becoming like every other place, like the streets, like the market… filled with the hustle and bustle of people buying things and money changing hands.

Yesterday I heard someone suggest, in a reflection on this text, that Jesus was de-cluttering the temple. You can imagine him, can’t you?… lunging into the bustling crowd with his whip of cords… shouting out above the din of many voices in conversation… the crowd parting like Moses parting the red sea… and then everyone – people, animals, birds, tables – scattering and dispersing.

I wonder how long the quiet might have lasted. Long enough for Jesus to say something to the crowd and be heard? Perhaps. Long enough for anyone to have a quiet moment of prayer to God? Probably not. Long enough for a serious reconsideration of the temple practice at Passover? Very unlikely. But it was long enough for people to take notice of what Jesus had done, and to tell the story of it, and to pass it along to us for our reflection.

I would say that I am a fairly organized person. I keep a detailed schedule and can usually be counted on to follow it. I try stay on top of the various responsibilities that I have. And if someone needs a copy of the minutes from some committee, or if they’ve lost an email that they received, I can usually find it for them.

But one thing that I do have trouble with is clutter. My basement  is cluttered. My kitchen is cluttered. My office is cluttered. I keep accumulating more things (with a lot of it being paper) and I don’t often find the time to sort it, to dispense with what I don’t need, and to remove the clutter.

Some of you probably can’t relate to this problem. You live in neat, tidy homes. You have a great filing system in your office. And you make a point of spring cleaning every year to get rid of the things you no longer need. (Sometimes you even bring these things here to the church, thinking perhaps that they’ll be useful here. And sometimes they are. And sometimes they simply add to the clutter in my office!)

If you’ve been at St. Andrew’s for more than 6 years, you’ll remember the Rev. Annabelle Wallace. Annabelle was a superhero when it came to de-cluttering! Her filing system was amazing. She kept the church school supplies in perfectly colour-coded order. She ruthlessly made use of the garbage bin. And she liked to keep things clean as well.

A couple of years ago, Annabelle dropped by the church to see me when she was visiting Saskatoon. Unfortunately, I was out of town and I missed her visit. But Karen told me that she took a few minutes to look around the church and see how things had changed. The message she left for me was “I saw… but I didn’t conquer!” In other words, she resisted the temptation to clear out the clutter.

The thing is, I do know how to de-clutter my office. I do know how to sort out my files and clear off my desk. I do know how to go through my emails to archive the old ones, and to sort the current ones into presbytery, and committee work, and camp-related, and personal. And when I take the time to do it… even if it’s just one room, or one area of my life, there is an amazing feeling of accomplishment, of possibility, or renewed energy for work and ministry. Now that my desk is cleared off, I can get to work on this one exciting project! Now that the dishes are all washed and neatly put away, we have space to make a wonderful supper!

I don’t know if Jesus was thinking about de-cluttering when he sent the tables flying and coins rolling that day in the temple. But the hustle and bustle of the marketplace had found its way into the place of worship, and he was convinced that it was supposed to be a place for prayer. How could anyone concentrate to talk to God, let alone to actually hear God’s voice, with all of that marketing going on around them?

If Spring is a good time for de-cluttering our homes and our offices, then it seems to me that Lent should be a good time for de-cluttering our churches and our lives of faith. The word “Lent” just comes from the same root as the word “lengthen” for the lengthening days that we experience at this time of year. But as a season in the church year, it is a time of turning and returning to God. It’s a time of re-committing ourselves to God in prayer, and worship, and other spiritual practices. It’s a time of preparing ourselves for the great sorrow of Good Friday and the great joy of Easter.

I wonder how many of us are experiencing this season of Lent as a time of prayer, reflection, and drawing close to God. My guess is that it’s not many of us… because, for one thing, we’re all too busy! We’ve got work, and family responsibilities. We have committee work to do for the church, and volunteer stuff for the kids’ school, plus the community Board we sit on, not to mention the upcoming tasks of doing our taxes and starting on the spring cleaning. We are making it to church, at least some of the time… But sometimes church just feels like a whole bunch more words, another big list of things we should be doing… Sometimes the hustle and bustle of all the church activities doesn’t feel much different from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the week.

I believe very strongly that God wants us to be active in our faith. It’s not just a set of beliefs that we hold, but it’s a way of life that we embrace, a way that changes us, that directs us, and equips us and calls us to meaningful work and service in the church and in the community. But I don’t think God needs us to be “busy” all the time. In fact, if we are busy all the time, we might actually miss out on what God may be telling us, how God may be directing us.

In this season of Lent, of which there are another four weeks with each day getting longer and longer… I want to invite us to find ways to de-clutter our lives of faith so that we can have the time, the space, and the quiet to focus on what really matters.

Maybe it’s time for you to spend some time diving deep into God’s Word in the scriptures. Set aside some time each day (maybe in the morning or just before you go to bed) and read the Bible. There are many different tools for deciding what to read, devotional booklets, reading guides, or just open up your Bible to a book that you’ve never explored before.

And then just have some quiet time with God. Think about what you’ve read. How does it apply to your particular life? What might God be saying to you today, at this point in your life? Talk to God about what you’re thinking and feeling. And then stop talking so that you can listen as well.

There are a lot of quiet days here at the church… when there aren’t any groups meeting… when this room, in particular, is a place of quiet contemplation. So drop by if you want to… on your lunch hour or on your way to somewhere else. Come and sit and let God help you to de-clutter your mind, and your heart so that God can begin to use you once again to do God’s amazing work.

Let’s start right now by sharing some silence together, in the presence of our loving God.

This sermon was preached by the Rev. Amanda Currie as part of the St. Andrew’s Stewardship Committee’s program “Growing God’s Gifts.” It is based on a sermon by the Rev. Kenn Stright.

Jesus once told a story of a wealthy landowner who was preparing for a long journey. He called his three servants and divided his money between them, each according to his ability. To one servant he gave five talents, meaning a sum of money – almost unimaginable riches. To a second he gave two talents, and to a third he gave one talent. And even the third received an amount that we would find staggering. But there was a definite dividing according to ability… maybe a better manager, a shrewder investor, who knows what the ability was.

Why is life like that? I don’t know. We are all equal in the eyes of God. We are all guaranteed equal rights under the Constitution. In an election our votes are all equal, at least if we take the time to vote. But when it comes to our abilities, we are as different as different can be. God simply did not make us all the same.

There are some people here who can handle five talents; there are some who can handle only one. But we need the five talented and the one talented alike! There are some people who have great intellectual capabilities, and some who do not. There are some who have the ability to project and articulate their thoughts, and there are some who cannot. There are some who have physical prowess and attractive looks, and there are some who do not.

The important thing to remember is that each servant was given something. No one was left idle. You may not be a five-talent person, but you have some talent. We all do. And you know something? I think that there are a whole lot more one and two talent people in this world than there are five talent people. Oh, there are some people who seem to have it all! I won’t deny that. But most of us are just one or two talent servants.

The landowner now went on his journey. When he returned he called together his three servants and asked them to give an account. It seems that the five talent man had invested his talent and was able to return an additional five talents, a 100% return. So too, the two talent man doubles his money. Well done, good and faithful servant!

But what about the one talent man? He steps forward and says: “Sir, I knew you to be a hard man, reaping where you did not sow.” And he returns the one talent that had been given to him. The landowner, incensed, uses words such as “slothful” and “wicked.” Angrily, he takes the talent back and gives it to the servant who now has ten.

It’s interesting to note that in the 25^th chapter of Matthew’s Gospel there are three parables told in a row: The Parable of the Bridesmaids, the Parable of the Sheep and the Goats, and the Parable of the Talents. Essentially the same phrase is used in each: after a long time. The bridegroom comes “after a long time.” The landowner returns “after a long time.” The judgment comes “after a long time.”

Perhaps this is Matthew’s way of saying to us: Our master may be delayed in his return, but in the meantime, what are you doing with the talent that has been entrusted to you?

Let us be clear on one issue. God expects a return. We had better not simply bury that which has been given to us and return it when he comes. A Danish proverb states: “What you are is God’s gift to you; what you do with yourself is your gift to God.”

Jesus reminds us in this parable that God has blessed us with many talents – gifts and abilities, time and energy, financial resources and material goods, and most of all the good news of God’s love in Jesus Christ. God directs us to put our talents to good use and multiply them. If we do not, then we will lose them.

Well, it’s obvious that the star, or we might say the villain, of the story is the one talent man. The salient question is: Why did he choose to do nothing with the one talent that had been given to him? Why do I? Why do you? We are not really given the answer. We are left to speculate. And that is precisely what I would like to do this morning – speculate about his inaction.

Perhaps he did nothing with his one talent because he feared failure. How did he word it? “I was afraid” and I hid my talent. Fearful of doing the wrong thing, he chose to do nothing at all. This was perhaps a man who did well under supervision, but now he is left on his own and he is terrified. We tend to view him with contempt because he hid his talent in the ground. But our contempt is misguided. This was considered the traditional way of saving money in that day and time. He was being a good conservative businessman. He was not going to risk someone else’s money by buying into some speculative venture.

The tendency is to want to play it safe and not go out on a limb. He wanted to play it safe, and what is wrong with that? Simply this, you cannot love if you are not willing to risk. What is the risk of love? That it will not be reciprocated. That people will not return our love. But as the people of God, we are called upon to be people of daring. Friends, if Jesus had played it safe, we would not be sitting here this morning.

I want to be faithful to this text. So I would say to you: Go, and take risks. Take risks and don’t fear failure, especially with your God-given gifts and the opportunity presented to you through your commitment to this church.

Perhaps a second reason why this one talent man did nothing with his talent is that he played the game “if only.” If only I had been given the talent of those other two men, then I could have accomplished something.

We like to play that game too. I would love to teach a Church School class, if only I had her ability. If only I had his voice I would sing in the choir. I would support the church if only I had a little more money. It is a dangerous game because it too easily gets us off the hook.

I love the story of the 38 year old scrubwoman who would go to the movies and sigh, “If only I had her looks.” She would listen to a singer and moan, “If only I had her voice.” Then one day someone gave her a copy of an inspirational book. She stopped comparing herself with actresses and singers. She stopped crying about what she didn’t have and started concentrating on what she did have. She took inventory of herself and remembered that in high school she had a reputation for being the funniest girl around. She began to turn her liabilities into assets. When she was at the top of her career Phyllis Diller made over $1 million a year. In the 1960’s that was a great deal of money. She wasn’t good-looking and she had a scratchy voice, but she could make people laugh.

Today we are invited to use the gifts that God has given to us. We may have to stop crying about what we don’t have and start concentrating on what we do have. And the Stewardship Committee wants to help us to do this by participating in the “Growing God’s Gifts” program starting next week.

No, we’re not going to be talking about money, and we’re not going to be asking you to make financial commitments to the church. We are going to be talking about spiritual gifts – about the talents and abilities that God has blessed us with. We’ll have an opportunity to do a “spiritual gifts inventory” to help us identify our gifts, and we’ll have the chance to think about how we can use our gifts, develop our gifts, and grow our gifts for God’s glory and for the building up of the church and our ministry here.

I think there’s one more possibility for why the one talent man did nothing with his gift. I wonder if he thought to himself, “Well, my one little talent won’t make any difference anyway.” There are a lot of people who feel that way today. I dare say, if you took a poll on why people don’t vote, that would be the answer given most often. Well, my one little vote won’t make any difference. And so voter turnout is at a record low at every level of government.

Sir Michael Costa, the celebrated conductor of the 19^th century, was holding a rehearsal. As the mighty chorus rang out, accompanied by scores of instruments, the piccolo player – a little pint-sized flute – thinking perhaps that his contribution would not be missed amid so much music, stopped playing. Suddenly, the great leader stopped and cried out, “Where is the piccolo?”

The sound of that one small instrument was necessary to the harmony, and the Master Conductor missed it when it dropped out. The point? To the conductor there are no insignificant instruments in an orchestra. Sometimes the smallest and seemingly least important one can make the greatest contribution. And even if it doesn’t seem to make that big a difference to the audience at large, THE CONDUCTOR KNOWS IT right away!

In the church, the players and the instruments are diverse – different sizes, different shapes, different notes, different roles to play. But like the piccolo player in Sir Michael’s orchestra, we often decide that our contribution is not significant. Our contribution couldn’t possibly make a difference. And so we quit playing. We stop doing that which we’ve been given to do. We drop out. But the Conductor immediately notices. From our perspective, our contribution may be small, but from His, it is crucial.

I just have to believe I’m talking to some piccolo players this morning, who have dropped out of the orchestra, for whatever reasons: pain, exhaustion, insecurity, criticism, laziness, or whatever… convinced that your contribution doesn’t mean a hill of beans in the bigger scheme of things. We have buried our talent in the ground. For all piccolos who won’t play, or at least aren’t playing, Jesus has something to say: Use the gifts that God has given you.

I don’t know when I spend hours on a sermon every week that it is going to make any difference at all in the life of anybody. But I do know that it is better to try than not to try. I don’t know that if a teacher makes an effort to reach out to a troubled student that it is going to make any difference in the long run, but I do know that it is better to try than not to try. When a person teaches a church school class or goes to the trouble of singing in the choir and having to show up for rehearsals, they have no guarantee whatsoever that their efforts will help make God more real to an individual. But I do know that it is better to try than not to try.

We are so used to looking at gigantic issues, such as racism and poverty and world hunger. We are stupefied by the enormity of such issues and say, “What’s the use? Anything that I could do would be so little that it would have the effect of an eyedropper compared to the ocean. Therefore, since I cannot resolve the whole issue, I will do nothing at all.”

May I remind you that when the Good Samaritan stopped to help a beaten victim on the Jericho Road that day, he did not resolve all of the social, political, and economic ills of first century Israel. But he did what he could. And that is the issue for us. Are we doing what we can, where we are, with what we have?

Let us take the time this month to consider our God-given gifts, to use them and to grow them for God’s glory. Amen.

During The Season Of Lent each year, the people of St. Andrew’s are encouraged to collect coins to support the work of Presbyterian World Service and Development. Our gifts to PWS&D are one way that we care for people around the world and for God’s creation. The Stewardship Committee has provided coin-collecting jars for us.  You can pick one up in the entranceway, and remember to bring it back on Easter Sunday. There are also some PWS&D envelopes in the entranceway if you would prefer to write a cheque.

During this year’s Lenten appeal, the Stewardship Committee has decided to highlight small business development in Guatemala.

• $80 provides women with literacy and vocational training for one month.
• $215 enables 40 people to participate in a business training program
• $500 helps a women’s group start a small business fund

All Are Welcome To Take Part In A Session of prayerful and gentle exercise while sitting in a chair on Wednesday, March 7^th from 6:30-7:30 pm in St. Andrew’s lower hall. Diane Waldbillig, a certified Holy Yoga trainer will be leading us through this new experience during the Lenten season. Let’s get healthy while we pray and reflect on scripture. Call Laura at 229-7846 to RSVP.

Discover Your God-Given Gifts! The Stewardship Committee invites everyone to participate in two small group sessions designed to help us discover and develop our spiritual gifts. Sessions will take place on Sundays, March 11^th & 18^th (2:30-4:30) and on Saturdays, March 17^th & 24^th (2:30-4:30) at the church. Please let us know whether you plan to attend the Sunday sessions or the Saturday sessions so that we can plan accordingly. You can phone the church (242-0525) email Rev. Amanda (email hidden; JavaScript is required) or put your name on the sign up sheets in the entranceway. We will conclude the program with a “gathering of God’s gifts” and a potluck lunch following worship on Sunday, March 25^th.

The ancient story of the great flood that we find in the Book of Genesis is not unique to the Judeo-Christian Tradition. Many cultures and religious traditions have similar stories about a time long, long ago, when God decided to flood the earth and begin again. We tell the same story (with some variation in the details) because, as humans, we share the same experience. We witness great floods and terrible disasters, and we want to make sense of them. We witness human sin, and failure, and disobedience to God, and we want to make sense of these things too.

These stories make sense to us when we think about the world that we live in today. We have no trouble imagining a world that has spun so far out of control that God might want to wipe it out and begin again. We read about that world in the newspaper each day, and we see it before our eyes on the nightly news. At least, it can seem that way some days, because the Noahs of this world rarely make the headlines.

But the story of Noah and the Ark and the Great Flood does not serve only as a warning. On this first Sunday in the Season of Lent, we might be tempted to read it that way. We might be inclined to warn each other back into obedience to God: Turn back before it’s too late! Pay attention to God before God decides to write you off! Return to God’s ways before God changes his mind and takes back the invitation!

Yes, the first part of the story may serve as a warning, or as a call to return to the Lord during this season of prayer and repentance. But the final part of the story is not so much a warning as it is a promise. When the flood subsided, and Noah and his family came out of the ark with all the animals, the first thing that Noah did was to build a place of worship. He made an offering to God, and when the Lord smelled the pleasing odour, the Lord said in his heart, “I will never again curse the ground because of humankind, for the inclination of the human heart is evil from youth; nor will I ever again destroy every living creature as I have done.”

It’s like God suddenly realized that human beings are never going to get it all together. It’s like God figured out that people are people, that we’re not God, and that we’re never going to be as loving and faithful and good as God is all of those things. And God decided that he would accept us as we are.

The best comparison that I can think of is the “honeymoon period” in a relationship. The honeymoon period refers to the early part of a relationship when you walk around in a haze of lovey dovey feelings, believing that your partner is the best thing since sliced bread, that he or she can do no wrong, and that life together is going to be just glorious because you’re just perfect for each other!

You might experience a honeymoon period in a marriage or in a friendship, in a new job or in any kind of new and exciting situation in life. Church folk often talk about a honeymoon period when a new minister comes to a congregation. It’s that first year or so before the congregation discovers the minister’s foibles and failings, and before the minister uncovers the unique quirks and challenges that exist in any Christian community. (Of course, you and I are long past that stage!)

When I’m doing marriage preparation with couples who have decided to get married, we do a lot more than plan the wedding service. And one of the things that I’m listening for when we meet together is whether they are still in the honeymoon period of their relationship. You see, it’s one thing to make a lifelong commitment to a person who is smart, strong, beautiful, loving, reliable, thoughtful, and perfect in every way. And it’s quite another to make a lifelong commitment to a person who is human, who makes mistakes and who does wrong things. What we most want to avoid is getting married during that honeymoon period, and then waking up some months later to discover the person that we’re really married to, and to be tempted to give up and walk away.

When couples get married in the church, we use the word “covenant” to describe the promises that they are making to each other. It’s the very same word that is used in the Bible to describe God’s promises to us as God’s people. And just as the rainbow becomes the sign of the covenant – the reminder of God’s promise to us never to give up on us again – many couples exchange rings to serve as a reminder of the covenant that they have made, a sign of the love and faithfulness that they have promised to each other.

It’s not just that the covenant is unconditional, though it is certainly that. God promises to remain faithful to us, to stay in relationship to us, EVEN IF we forget about God, and disobey God, and do wrong things. But the covenant is made with the knowledge that we WILL do wrong things, that we WILL be unfaithful, that we WILL forget about God. God makes the covenant even THOUGH God knows us well enough to know that we will mess up. God makes the covenant even THOUGH God knows that there will be times when God will want to wipe us all out with a giant flood and start again. And God promises NOT to do that!

Sometimes the God of the Old Testament and the God of the New Testament that we meet in Jesus the Christ are seen as quite different from each other – the contrast between a harsh and judging God who required God’s people to live according to a set of rules and laws, versus the loving, forgiving, reconciling God that we experience in Jesus. But I’m not so sure that God has changed all that much.

Once upon a time, God made a promise to humanity. God knew that we would forget him, and turn away, and do wrong things. But God made a covenant to be our God and not to destroy us again. More than two thousand years ago, God made a new covenant with us in Jesus Christ. God made that promise to us right in the middle of a pretty good demonstration of our human failure and sinfulness. Even as Jesus spoke the words of promise to his disciples at supper, some of them were doubting, and some of them were planning betrayals, and all of them were soon to run away when he needed them most. But he took a loaf of bread in his hands, broke it, and gave to them. He said, “This is my body that is for you.” He took a cup of wine, passing it between them and telling them, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood.”

Today I invite you to hear these words again. They are words that have been spoken so many times in this place, as we have gathered at the Table of the Lord to remember him and celebrate the feast. I invite you to hear the words again, and to consider them as Jesus’ wedding vow – Jesus’ promise – to you and to us as a People. Don’t worry. He knows what he’s getting into. He’s making the covenant with his eyes wide open to the people that we are with all our imperfections, and with the full knowledge that we’re going to mess up again because we are human.

But he loves us, and he’s committing to keep on loving us. He’s giving himself fully and completely to being in relationship with us, knowing that his self-giving will inevitably lead to pain and hurt and even death itself. His body will be broken. His blood will be poured out. And he will keep on loving us, and forgiving us, and drawing us back into relationship with him, into relationship with God.

As bread and wine are shared this day, we are invited to do two things. We are invited to hear and receive the promise of God in Jesus Christ, to hear God’s promise once again and to rest in God’s amazing love. And we are invited to respond to that love, to renew our own promises to God, to make our own vows once again, that we might give ourselves fully to God and God’s will for our lives.

May God bless the giving and receiving of our promises today, and may God give us the strength to live by them more and more each day. Amen.

Bill Thibodeau and Giselle Doell of Egadz Youth Centre will speak at the Thursday Group meeting on Thursday, February 16th. Everyone is welcome to join this group at 1:30 p.m. in the lower hall of the church.

Farewell to Jen! St. Andrew’s will be hosting a farewell gathering for Jennifer Bell, our Regional Staff Person for Saskatchewan. Jen has accepted a position as Program Assistant for Canadian Ministries at the National Office of the Presbyterian Church in Canada. We will gather for worship at 4 p.m. followed by a potluck supper on Sunday, February 19th to say good-bye to Jen and send her on her way with our love and blessings for her continued ministry within the Presbyterian Church.

Church Family Day! On Monday, February 20th many people in Saskatchewan will have the day off work/school for Family Day. You are invited to join your church family at St. Andrew’s that day for a time of worship, learning, and activity. Families, singles, and couples of all ages are encouraged to come for a fun time with your church family. The program will begin at 11 a.m. and wind up by 2 p.m., followed by optional activities of board games, a family movie, or skating at the Bess. Lunch will be included. Please RSVP to Matt or Rev. Amanda by Sunday morning, February 19th so that we can prepare enough food for lunch.

Ash Wednesday Worship: We will begin the Season of Lent with an Ash Wednesday Worship Service on February 22nd at 7 p.m. The service will include the imposition of ashes on the forehead as a sign of humility and repentance. We will also celebrate Holy Communion together.

Sunday, February 26th will be the First Sunday in the Season of Lent.  We will begin the Lenten journey with the Sacrament of Holy Communion as part of our Sunday morning worship at 11 a.m.

As we just heard in today’s Gospel story, Jesus became very well known for his ability to heal. Whether it was a person afflicted with a terrible skin disease like leprosy, a man who could not walk, a woman who couldn’t stop bleeding, or a child seemingly possessed by an evil spirit, Jesus spoke, he touched, or power simply came out of him bringing healing and wholeness and peace. He never used more than a bit of mud in his healing practice, and usually he just did it with a word or a touch that effected rapid healing in the person’s life.

Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, “I do choose. Be made clean!” And immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean.

This kind of story is strange and far from most of our experience. It’s the kind of story that we share carefully with our children, recognizing that it may raise questions for them, as it does for us. If Jesus could heal the leper, and the lame man, and the demoniac, and the sick child, then why couldn’t God heal my grandmother, or my best friend? Why doesn’t God heal me when I am suffering?

The question about healing brings to mind a memory I have from when I was a teenager. I don’t remember the details of what I was doing in Montreal, whether I was there with my family or with a school trip, perhaps. But we went to visit one of the Catholic Churches there, St. Joseph’s Oratory. And I’ll always remember the image of the hundreds and hundreds of crutches, and canes, and walkers, and wheel chairs. They weren’t just sitting around, but they were hanging up on the walls everywhere we looked. These were the reminders of the people who had been healed in the church. Like the lame man that Jesus healed, they had “taken up their mats, and walked” away, leaving behind the crutches and chairs that they no longer needed.

I admit that I was sceptical when I saw all those things hanging on the walls of the church, and I’m still pretty sceptical about that kind of healing. Of course, if I saw someone healed miraculously like that I would certainly celebrate with them and give thanks to God for the gift. But I have my doubts about whether God would work that way, or why, if God did, that it wouldn’t always work that way.

Today’s healing story is very brief. A leper comes to Jesus, begging him for help, and reminding him that he really could help if he chose to do so. And Jesus is moved with pity. He agrees to do the healing, and a moment later it is done. But what happens next is a bit strange.

Jesus sternly warns the man before sending him away. He says, “See that you say nothing to anyone; but go, show yourself to the priest, and offer for your cleansing what Moses commanded, as a testimony to them.”

The instruction to “show yourself to the priest” makes sense. If a person with leprosy actually got better, the first thing he would do would be to go to the priest. The priest would check him over, and confirm that indeed, he was well. The key point was that he was no longer contagious. The priest would declare him clean, invite him to make an offering of thanks to God, and then the former leper would be free to continue with life – no longer quarantined to protect everyone else from his illness.

Jesus says, “It’s okay to tell the priest, but please don’t tell anyone else about this.” And we have to wonder why. Maybe it was because if he went out and told everyone about the miracle, Jesus would get swamped with people looking for similar miracles.

The fact was that Jesus was moved with pity and he helped the leper, but maybe he’s not really too excited about healing every single person who might come looking for help. Maybe it would be too much. Maybe if performing healing miracles became Jesus’ full-time job, he wouldn’t have any time left to fulfil his calling, which was about much more than healing miracles.

I can’t claim to have Jesus’ power to heal diseases, but as part of my role here at St. Andrew’s, I have the discretion to make use of the Session Benevolence Fund when I become aware of church members or others who are in serious need. In recent months, I’ve started to pick up some grocery gift cards that can be given to folks who are out of food and out of other options.

I can imagine how Jesus might have felt with that leprous man kneeling at his feet and begging him for help. I’ve felt that ache of pity when there’s been a young single mom crying on the phone for my help – for the church’s help.

And a couple of times, I’ve said something like what Jesus said. “See that you say nothing to anyone. Don’t tell all your friends that I gave you a gift card. It’s not that I don’t want to help them. It’s just that the resources are limited. We just don’t have enough to take on feeding all the hungry people of Saskatoon.”

Jesus was moved with pity. He had compassion on the man with leprosy and healed him. He hoped, I suppose, that the man wouldn’t tell everyone about it. He hoped that everyone wouldn’t expect such a miracle because even if Jesus spent all day every day healing one person after another, there would never be enough time to heal them all, at least not in the way that they were hoping to be healed.

When we talk about healing in the church, the question arises as to what we are praying for when we ask God to heal someone. Some may literally be expecting a miracle… for someone’s cancer to disappear, for someone’s legs to start working again, for someone’s blood pressure to suddenly return to normal… The minister, or someone, waves their hand over the spot, or says the right words, or asks God with the right attitude, and the person will be healed.

That’s the kind of healing that Naaman, the army commander with leprosy, was looking for in today’s story from 2 Kings. Naaman was a great warrior who suffered from a terrible skin disease. It was a young Israelite girl who was serving Naaman’s wife who suggested a solution: Naaman should go to Israel. There’s a prophet there with great healing powers.

So Naaman’s king, the King of Aram, sends Naaman to Israel and sends along a letter to the King of Israel asking him to arrange for a healing. In addition to the letter, Naaman brings along a lot of wealth – silver, gold, and many garments. Payment for the healing? A bribe? Certainly, this great man is willing to buy the help he needs. He’s not looking for a hand-out.

But the King of Israel is confused and upset by the letter. He obviously doesn’t know that such healing is possible. Or if he does, he doesn’t know how to provide it for Commander Naaman. He’s worried that the King of Aram is trying to pick a fight. He’s afraid that there’s going to be another war if he can’t provide what Naaman needs.

Along comes the prophet Elisha to the rescue. “Send him to me,” Elisha tells the king, “I can take care of him.”

But when Naaman arrives at Elisha’s house, ready and waiting for his miraculous healing, Elisha neither lets him in, nor comes out to meet him. He sends a message instead: “Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean.”

As you know, Naaman got angry and upset when he heard this. He was an important man, and he was expecting something more spectacular: “I thought that for me he would surely come out,” Naaman complained. “[I thought that he would] stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy!” Instead, he’s just telling me to have a bath. Well, to have seven baths, and to have them in a muddy river!

If it wasn’t for the encouragement of some of his servants, Naaman probably wouldn’t have even followed the prophet’s advice. He would have missed the miracle because it wasn’t flashy enough, because it wasn’t quick enough, because it didn’t look like a fancy healing miracle.

Naaman’s healing wasn’t instantaneous. There was no magical cure. But healing did take place. Healing took place through the willingness of Naaman to participate in the healing process, through the determination to go down to the river and wash, and to go again, and to go again. Elisha told him to do it seven times – a symbolic number, representing fullness and completeness. And when he actually did it, he was healed.

Earlier this week, someone told me about an amazing story of healing. It was the terrible story of a girl that was shared on the Dr. Phil show on TV. I don’t know all the details because I didn’t watch it myself, but as I understand it, they had an eighteen year old woman on the show who had survived an absolutely horrific childhood.

From the ages of 2 to 6, this poor girl had been locked in a closet by her parents. She lived there all the time, naked and alone, eating only scraps of food, and not even allowed out to use the bathroom. When the adults did pull her out of the closet, they would wash her off, have sex with her, and then throw her back into the closet.

Without going into any more detail than that, it is clear that this girl was subjected to pure evil, deprived of all the things that children need to grow healthy and strong – food, shelter, conversation, care, and unconditional love.

What amazed me when I heard this story was that she survived at all. And what amazed me even more was that through the dedication, and care, and love of a new mother and a new family, this girl was actually healing. It had been a long and difficult journey, and there was obviously still a long way to go. But she talked about her faith in God, and her belief that if she had survived what happened to her, God must have a purpose for her life. She must have some good to share in the world.

There was no quick fix for the terrible things that had been done to this girl’s body, mind, and spirit. But as Naaman was healed through the slow, repetitive work of going down and washing in the river, and going down and washing in the river, and going down and washing in the river, this girl was healing also… slowly, haltingly, and often painfully healing… but there’s no doubt that her healing is a miracle.

I heard another story of healing recently. It was the story of a man in his 70’s who had, in his childhood, attended one of the residential schools that was operated by the Presbyterian Church in Canada. This man, along with many others, took the opportunity provided by Canada’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission, to tell his story at one of the hearings that took place in Prince Albert a couple of weeks ago.

We listened as he spoke for over an hour about what happened to him when he was only 5 years old. He was taken away from his home and his family to live hundreds of kilometres away at a residential school where he stayed for a full five years without an opportunity to visit home. His sister was there too, but since she was a girl, he didn’t get to see her. His hair was cut short, his language was disallowed, and he experienced severe physical and sexual abuse in that place.

He shared about the many challenges that followed throughout his adult life. He was in and out of jail, he became addicted to alcohol, and he had trouble maintaining relationships. He spoke of many regrets about his inability to be a good father to his children. He did a lot of harm, and he carried a lot of guilt feelings for the mistakes that he made.

But he gave credit to a couple of good friends who sat beside him in support as he shared his story. These were the people who helped him to turn his life around, to get off the streets where he had been living, and to begin the healing journey.

I got the impression, as I listened to this man speaking, that this wasn’t the first time he had shared his story. This time was for the record, but I imagine he had already told it over and over to friends, to elders, and to those who sat with him in healing circles.

He had been hurt. It was terrible. And it had led to a great deal of suffering for this man and for many others who encountered such a broken and hurting person. But by facing his pain, by telling his story, by working through what had happened to him, he had begun to heal.

He talked about the spiritual practices that helped him – going out into the woods and talking to God in prayer. And when I introduced myself to him at lunch time, he told me that he had learned how to forgive. He said he didn’t blame the church anymore. And he didn’t blame God either.

There are some things in all our lives that need healing. Yes, there are illnesses and ailments that we need to address, things from which we cannot heal unless we go to the doctor, and follow the instructions, and take the medications, and adjust our diets, and do the exercises, and care for the bodies that God has given to us.

And there are some other things that need healing… broken hearts and broken dreams, broken relationships and broken expectations. Our minds and our spirits also need healing, and that healing doesn’t happen with the wave of a hand or a few special words from a minister.

That healing takes time, and work, and patience, and determination to listen for God’s message of grace and love, to watch for Christ’s presence in our midst, and to walk in the ways of Christ each day, with the presence and help of the Holy Spirit.

It requires us to work on ourselves and our relationships both with God and our neighbours, to worship, to read the scriptures, and to respond to God’s Word with our lives and our gifts. It means taking care of the spirits that God has given to us.

So let us go down to the river and immerse ourselves in the healing waters. And let us do it again, and again, and again. And may God grant us healing and peace. Amen.

Have you not known? Have you not heard? Has it not been told you from the beginning? It is God who sits above the circle of the earth… who stretches out the heavens like a curtain… who makes the rulers of the earth as nothing… Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. God does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable.

The prophet Isaiah addresses these questions to the People of Israel in exile in Babylon. The people are complaining, you see, that God has disregarded them, that God has forgotten them. I can understand their complaint. Really, I can. They’re tired. They’re exhausted, actually. And after all the challenges and trials they have endured, after waiting so long for some kind of help,  who can blame them for getting a little bit frustrated with God?

Why are we still living in this God-forsaken place? Why are our enemies still triumphing over us again and again? We thought we were supposed to be your chosen people! Why is this misery just going on and on with no relief in sight?

Those are questions that many of us have asked ourselves, or asked of God over the years. In the midst of unrelenting physical pain, from the depths of a deep depression, or out of the exhaustion of constant care-giving, we’ve wondered where God is to be found, or why God doesn’t seem to be helping us out of our struggles.

Even our churches may find ourselves asking these questions. We’re tired too. We’ve been working so hard to maintain a ministry. We’ve been spending so much time, and giving so many resources to build a mission. And yet we may not see the results. We notice our congregations dwindling, and many of them closing. We worry about our children and whether they will hear the good news and respond to it in faith. We’ve been trying so hard for so many years, and we’re really starting to wonder if God has disregarded us, if God has forgotten us.

When the prophet asks, “Have you not known? Have you not heard? Has it not been told you from the beginning?” he knows the answer to the question. Of course they know that God is the creator of all that is. Of course they know that God is more powerful that the rulers of the world. Of course they know that God has numbered all the stars and calls them each by name. They know that God does not faint or grow weary.

Those being addressed by the prophet’s speech are not being shown something new, or something on the far horizon of what they might have thought about God. The speech intends to drive home matters about God that Israel already knows, but has forgotten.

In his reflection on this text, William J. Carl III suggests that both the Israelites and we are theological amnesiacs. Theological amnesia is the kind of problem that causes us to fall apart every time crisis comes. Like the exiles in Babylon, we wonder if God has gone off and left us altogether. We forget who we are as Christians. We forget what we believe and why we believe it. We feel lost and alone.

Of course, theological amnesia doesn’t only strike when we are in crisis. In fact, it is especially troubling when life is going well. How easily we forget God when everything is on track in our lives! We forget that God loves us and wants the best for us. We forget to praise and thank God for the blessings we receive every day.

And what happens when we forget the God who is Creator, Sustainer, Redeemer, and Friend?  The moment we confront trouble, we collapse with anxiety and stress. We think that we have to handle the crisis all on our own. We forget that God is with us and that God loves us.

William Carl suggests that Isaiah is trying to cure the world’s amnesia. His appeal is not to something unknown or insufficiently grasped, but precisely to something Israel has known and heard and been shown from eternity, from the very foundation of the heavens and the earth.

Sometimes when I’m working on a sermon I start to feel like I never have anything new to say. “I’ve preached this before! I feel like I’m always preaching the same message over and over again. They’ve got to be getting tired of all this repetition!” Even if it’s a new text, a biblical text that I’ve never preached on before, I realize that the message, at its core, is the same thing over and over.

But maybe that’s the point. I’m not preaching something new that you’ve never heard before. After all, many of you have so many more years of faith and discipleship, bible study and reflection than I do. How can I possibly come up with something that is new for you?

Rather, like Isaiah, my task is simply to remind you of something that you may have forgotten, to remind you of something that you already know, of something that you have heard before, of something that has been told to you from the beginning of your life of faith.

It goes something like this: There is a God, and God is the Maker of all that is. God made the world and everything in it, and God made it all good. God made you as well, and you were especially made in God’s image, to share the goodness and the love and potential for loving relationship that is God’s very nature.

At times, God’s people have turned away from God, refusing to trust and obey. At times, we continue to turn away and we rebel against the way of life that God has called us to live. In years past, God sent prophets like Isaiah to call us back to God’s way. And then, in the fullness of time, out of God’s great love for the world, God sent God’s only Son to be one of us, to redeem us and heal our brokenness.

In Jesus, born of Mary, God’s Word became flesh and lived among us, full of grace and truth. He lived as one of us, knowing joy and sorrow. He healed the sick, fed the hungry, opened blind eyes, broke bread with outcasts and sinners, and proclaimed the good news of God’s kingdom to the poor and needy. Dying on the cross, he gave himself for the life of the world. Rising from the grave, he won for us victory over death. Seated at the right hand of God, he leads us to eternal life.

I know… this is nothing new. You’ve heard this all before. But there are times when we forget, aren’t there? Sometimes when everything is going so well, and we’re starting to think that we can do almost anything on our own. Sometimes when everything is falling apart, and it seems like nothing can help with our desperate situation.

Let’s not give each other a hard time for forgetting God. Instead, let’s take every opportunity we have to remind each other. Worship is a good way to be reminded. So is caring for one another, serving, and helping one another in the name of Christ, doing the things that Jesus did. And if we can be brave enough to share our faith with the people around us, we’ll not only remind them that God is present and active, but we’ll also remind ourselves as well.

The prophet Isaiah reminded God’s people Israel of what they already knew. And what they knew was a specific account of how the world was made, how God chose a people, and how God was and is God. One commentator points out that the possession and good stewardship of this knowledge is what it means for Israel to be God’s elect people in the first place.

The fact that we have known, and heard, and been told the good news of God’s love for us in Jesus Christ is an amazing gift. And it’s a gift that we can’t lose by giving it away.

We can follow the example of the Apostle Paul who heard the gospel and felt an obligation to spend his life proclaiming it to others, whoever those others might be, and whatever it might cost him to do so.

We can follow the example of Simon’s mother-in-law, who was healed by Jesus, and responded by getting up and serving the people around her.

We can follow the example of Jesus, who though he had worked so hard already, and though he was feeling so tired, went to God for help and strength, and then continued the ministry that he was called to do, proclaiming the message in word and deed.

May God give us power when we are faint, and strength when we are powerless, so that no matter what challenges we may face, we will never forget God’s presence or God’s love for us.

“Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted; but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.” Amen.

An ecumenical Lenten series exploring the doctrinal consensus and convergence on key issues of church life and practice. Join Nick Jesson and Rev. Amanda Currie as we harvest the significant agreement reached between the churches in the past half century and look to the future. Together with an ecumenical panel, we will discover the faith that we share and the practices and beliefs that we hold in common, as well as seek to understand the differences that make each of our church Traditions unique.

You are invited to a 5-week Lenten series for all Christians who are praying and working for the unity of the church. On Mondays from Feb. 27 to Mar. 26 from 7-9 pm at Mayfair United Church (902 – 33rd Street West).

2012 is the 30th anniversary of the World Council of Churches’ statement on Baptism, Eucharist, and Ministry (BEM). Thirty years after BEM have our Churches truly embraced the ecumenical agreement that is expressed in the document? And are we still engaging in the dialogue necessary to move towards even greater agreement, co-operation, and Christian unity? If you would like to read BEM in advance of the series, you can find it online at http://oikoumene.org/?id=2638.

Registration on the first evening will begin at 6:30 p.m. There is no fee for this series, but you are welcome to make a donation to support the ministry of the Prairie Centre for Ecumenism. For more information, contact Rev. Amanda Currie at 306-242-0525 or email hidden; JavaScript is required.

A sermon preached by the Rev. Amanda Currie and Nicholas Jesson at St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church, Saskatoon and St. Andrew’s Anglican Church, Humboldt on January 29, 2012.

In the introduction to the ecumenical service for the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity this year, the Polish authors of the material emphasize the theme of transformation. Using the main biblical text from 1 Corinthians 15, they speak boldly and hopefully about the transformation that awaits us when our lives in this world come to an end.

With the foundational conviction that Christ was raised from death to life forevermore with God, the Apostle Paul proclaims the good news that precisely because Christ is raised, those who love him and follow him will also be raised. We too will be transformed from death to life, not because of our own goodness or power, but because of the victory of our Lord Jesus Christ.

“Listen, I will tell you a mystery!” Paul explains it, “We will not all die, but we will all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. For this perishable body must put on imperishability, and this mortal body must put on immortality. When this perishable body puts on imperishability, and this mortal body puts on immortality, then the saying that is written will be fulfilled: ‘Death has been swallowed up in victory.’”

When we profess our faith together in the words of an ecumenical creed (such as the Apostles’ Creed that we will share today) we are reminded of how much we hold in common as Churches and Christians. We may sing some different songs, wear some different outfits for worship, and emphasize different aspects of our faith, but there are some very foundational beliefs that we share.

Even if we can’t quite get together on the particular translations of the creeds to use, still, we can stand together with our sisters and brothers in Christ today and profess that we believe (among others things) in “the resurrection of the dead, and the life everlasting.”

When I first looked at the scripture theme for this year’s Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, I must admit that I was confused. I was expecting a text about Christian unity.

There are some wonderful texts about Christian unity, for example first Corinthians 1: “Now I appeal to you, brothers and sisters, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you be in agreement and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and the same purpose.”

Or first Corinthians 12: “For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ.”

One of my favourite ones is Ephesians 2: “So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone.”

Another one from Ephesians is in chapter four: “There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all…”

And we can’t forget John 17: Jesus prays that we may all be one:  “As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me.”

Even the psalmists had something to say about unity. Psalm 133 says: “How very good and pleasant it is when kindred live together in unity!”

But the theme text that was chosen for this year is about resurrection. It’s about dying and being raised. It’s about giving thanks to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ – victory over sin and victory over death.

This text from 1 Corinthians is often chosen as an appropriate one for funeral services. When a loved one has died, we are encouraged and strengthened by this message of confident hope in the power of God to transform our perishable, mortal bodies into ones that can live forever in the presence of our loving God.

I wonder if you’ve noticed that there are some Christians and some churches that focus almost exclusively on the promise of resurrection and eternal life with God. The major faith question is “Are you saved?” with the answer to that having to do with committing your life to Christ and receiving the assurance that you will be going to heaven when you die.

There are other Christians and churches, of course, that hardly ever talk about heaven. Their major concern is what God may be doing in your life in this world. Are you learning to follow Jesus more closely with your life? Are you doing justice, and loving kindness, and walking humbly with God? There’s not a lot mentioned about salvation, or if there is, it’s about being saved from a life of meaninglessness or selfishness, and taking up a life in relationship with Christ.

Most of us can probably locate ourselves (or our churches) in terms of where the emphasis lies in our faith. Are we mostly looking forward to experiencing the Kingdom of God in the afterlife, or are we mostly focussed on finding the Kingdom right here on earth?

It seems to me that what’s required is a balancing of these different perspectives. We need both the “already” and the “not yet” because that’s where the Kingdom of God is to be found.

When I think of the Kingdom of God when it finally comes to completion, I think of that image from the Book of Revelation of all God’s people standing together in God’s presence and singing praise:

“After this I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb… [And] they cried out in a loud voice, saying,‘Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb… Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honour and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen.’”

It’s an image of unity – one church, one body of Christ – a unified People, praising God together.

There’s another image of praise in today’s text from the prophet Habakkuk:

“Though the fig tree does not blossom, and no fruit is on the vines…
Yet I will rejoice in the Lord.

“Though the produce of the olive fails, and the fields yield no food…
Yet I will rejoice in the Lord.

“Though the flock is cut off from the fold, and there is no herd in the stalls,
Yet I will rejoice in the Lord.
I will exult in the God of my salvation.”

Even though the goodness of the Kingdom of God has not yet arrived in its fullness, still, we will rejoice in the Lord.

It is commonly said that we are in the winter of ecumenism. After the excitement of the first years of the ecumenical movement, we have seen diminished attention and concern for the unity of the church, for dialogue between our communities, or for resolving historic divisions and reconciling memories. It sometimes seems that ecumenism has been put on the shelf. It is not forgotten, but it is out of the way. It can be pulled out for special occasions, dusted off and displayed to our friends, but it is really not something that we think about every day.

Perhaps on the Prairies we have a unique perspective on winter. Normally, winter is harsh, bitterly cold and even treacherous. Yet even as we bundle up for winter, we get on with our daily lives. We go to work or school, we run our errands and do our chores, and we visit our friends. Some of us play outside: skating, skiing, snowmobiling. We go for walks and we find beauty in the snow drifts and the hoar frost. We even gather to pray for Christian unity in the midst of January, the coldest month of the year. We endure winter because we know that it will end. Already we feel the days growing longer and the sun shining more directly. We know that the snow and ice will melt, and the spring rains will clear away the dust, and perhaps in April or early May we will see the buds on the trees signalling that another season of growth is at hand.

I find it fascinating the way that God has made everything to work together. The seeds that fell from last year’s plants will lay dormant beneath the snow until the spring warmth and rains begin the process of growth. But the cold of winter is necessary. Many of you know better than I that cold is an essential stage in preparing seeds for germination. Freezing destroys some of the diseases that inhibit germination, but it also assists in breaking through the hard outer shell of many seeds. Once spring has arrived the farmers will plant their seeds, but with some plants and trees nature takes care of this all on its own. In God’s providence even the death grip of winter leads to new life.

If we are experiencing an ecumenical winter then we must live in Christian hope that winter will end and the seeds of unity will sprout once more. But we don’t just wait for spring, we must work patiently to prepare for the springtime. We must prepare the tools for ecumenical relationship: a greater understanding of our own traditions and the causes of division and a respect for the gifts of the Spirit lived and celebrated by our ecumenical partners. We must prepare now because the time is short, spring will be here very soon. Even now, this is not a winter of despair but one of new birth. In the spring we will experience a resurrection of unity.

As most of you know, we are an interchurch family. While I am Presbyterian, Nicholas is Roman Catholic, and we have decided not to give up either of our Christian Traditions, but to worship and pray together in both of our churches, and to work diligently for ecumenical education, dialogue, common witness, and common mission between our churches.

A: Because of our double belonging, we feel very keenly the divisions and brokenness within the Body of Christ. We notice the misunderstandings when people make assumptions about Traditions with which they are unfamiliar. And we find it hard to ignore when people use stereotypes about certain kinds of Christians, or when they make “we know better than they do” type comments. We are very aware of the things that our churches disagree about, and the doctrines and practices that maintain the barriers between us.

But our interchurch life also provides us with glimpses of the Body of Christ in its fully reconciled form. We celebrate the many opportunities to come together in prayer, to share our common faith in Christ, and to engage in dialogue and share our churches’ particular gifts. We are united in our baptism. We are united in our marriage. We are united in our faith in God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

We have a long way to go before we will experience the full visible unity of the church, and perhaps we are in an ecumenical winter. And yet, we will rejoice in the Lord. This Week of Prayer for Christian Unity gives us all an opportunity to experience a foretaste of the Kingdom of God – to pray together, to interpret the scriptures together, and to stand together with all Christians and profess our faith in God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

“Therefore, my beloved, be steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the work of the Lord, because you know that in the Lord your labour is not in vain.”

As we journey through the seasons of the church year and explore the texts of scripture each Sunday that are assigned by the lectionary cycle, we have the opportunity to focus on different parts of the Christian story.

During Advent, we enter into the experience of waiting. Longing, hoping, waiting for a Messiah to come… waiting for his return, waiting for our world to be put right. When Christmas finally arrives, we enter into the experience of the Holy Family, of the shepherds, and of the angels. We celebrate the gift of God in sending Jesus into our world, almost as if he has just arrived. And then, at Epiphany, we walk with the wise men to greet him. We experience the “aha moment” – the knowledge that Emmanuel has come – “God with us” for the whole world.

Today is the third Sunday after the Epiphany in our church year. We’re in what we call the “Season of Epiphany” and our scripture texts contain some wonderful epiphanies of their own. But I can’t help summing them up with one message from God: “It is time to live differently.”

The Greek word that is translated as “time” in each of our New Testament readings today is KAIROS. You might recognize that word from the name of our Canadian ecumenical social justice organization. KAIROS doesn’t have to do with what time it is on the clock. That’s CHRONOS – chronological time. CHRONOS deals with time in the sense of calendars and clocks. KAIROS refers to an opportune time, an appropriate moment. KAIROS declares that the right time has come – God’s time. And it calls us to act.

Our social justice organization calls itself KAIROS as a way of saying, “The time has come.” We are called to act on behalf of the poor, on behalf of the oppressed, on behalf of all those who are denied justice by our society’s structures and decisions. When we read the word KAIROS in our Greek New Testament, it will not be a comment about the time of day or the season of the year. When we see the word KAIROS, we know that something important is happening. Something long-awaited is taking place. It is time.

In the Gospel reading from Mark, we hear Jesus’ declaration that “it is time.” Jesus proclaims what Mark’s Gospel describes as “the good news of God” saying: “The time (the KAIROS) is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near.”

What made it the right time? It’s hard to say. Jesus had been born, and grown up, and been baptized by John, and been through the temptations in the wilderness. Perhaps he was ready now – to do the work of ministry for which he had been born. Jesus says, “It is time.” I’m ready. This is the right moment.

But it’s not only the right moment for Jesus. It’s also the right moment for the people to whom he preaches. He says, “The kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” It is time. Time to believe in God and God’s good news of love in Jesus Christ. Time to repent. Time to turn from selfish and sinful ways. Time to turn towards God’s ways.

We watch as Jesus approaches Simon and Andrew, James and John. We listen as Jesus says, “Follow me,” and they turn from their occupations and their families and everything that had been a part of their normal lives. We watch them get up and follow Jesus – to learn his teachings, to travel with him, and to help him proclaim his message – to let everyone know that “It is time.”

Those first disciples of Jesus, who left their nets to follow a wandering preacher, made a radical response to the message “It is time to live differently.” Others who came after them would not necessarily make such dramatic changes in lifestyle when they became followers of Jesus, we might assume.

And yet, in the early church, after Jesus’ death and resurrection, leaders like the Apostle Paul had the expectation that becoming a Christian would dramatically alter the course of each person’s life.

In Paul’s first letter to the Corinthian Christians, he tries to help them to sort out what their lives are to be like as followers of Jesus, post-resurrection. It’s one thing to drop your nets and follow a real, live person who will guide you and teach you and give direction and shape to your life. It’s quite another to respond to the call to follow when Jesus is not on earth to show the way.

So Paul teaches the Corinthians about worship, about sharing resources, about sharing gifts, about loving one another, and about how to interact with people of other religions within their multi-cultural city. But essentially, what Paul teaches them is that “it is time to live differently.”

Paul had the hope and the expectation that Jesus would be coming back very soon and that the present form of the world would be passing away. He told them not to concern themselves with buying things or with possessions. He told them not to focus on marriages or mourning rituals.

I think he was saying that the things that caused them so much worry and anxiety at that time would not be very important in the long term. I think he was saying that they should focus on God and on what God was calling them to do right there and then. He was saying, “It is time to live differently.”

Today, in this time, we are invited to consider what time it is now. (In terms of CHRONOS, it’s 11:35 a.m. on Sunday, January 22^nd, 2012.) But in terms of KAIROS, is it time for you to respond to a particular calling from God? Are you being asked to leave some part of your life, some priority, some activity behind, and to do something different with your life? Are you being asked to take a risk, to give of yourself to proclaim the Gospel, or to create justice, or to make peace? What mission or calling or change is God calling you to make in your life today? Or what has God been calling you to do for some time now that you’ve been avoiding?

When I think about the question of KAIROS – what time it is right now, what we as Christians and churches are being called to do at this time – an important event that comes to mind is the upcoming National Event of Canada’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission. The TRC is already in Saskatchewan right now, conducting hearings in a variety of communities, giving opportunities for the survivors of residential schools and others impacted by the school system to tell their stories and be heard.

In June of this year, the TRC will hold a National Event here in Saskatoon at Prairieland Park. The event will include statement gathering, witnessing survivor statements, survivor gatherings, traditional ceremonies, cultural performances, and education. And all Canadians, whether Aboriginal or non-Aboriginal, are being encouraged to participate.

Today, our churches (our denominational bodies) are encouraging local Christians to participate in the TRC process. We have church representatives on the planning committee for the event in Saskatoon, and representatives from our national churches will come and participate by witnessing survivor statements and offering apologies. In Prince Albert, the Presbyterian Church is organizing to have church representatives present for each day and hour of the hearings that will be held there next week.

It is time for us to be present, to listen, and to provide opportunities to share the truth of our history as a country so that healing and reconciliation may become a real possibility.

Many people would say that something like the Truth and Reconciliation Commission should have happened years ago. After failing to act for so long, maybe it’s simply too late to make a difference in the lives of the residential school students or their children and grandchildren whose lives have also been scarred by the damage done to previous generations. But I would argue that it’s never too late to respond to God’s call and do what is right.

I would like to report that when God calls me to action, or to repentance, or to generosity, or to a new way of life, that I always respond immediately – that I drop what I’m doing and follow. But that’s not really true. I’m sure that I’m not the only one here who has a tendency to procrastinate.

Especially when it comes to tasks that are particularly challenging, or unpleasant, or scary, it’s easy to put them off and to avoid doing the things that God is calling us to do immediately. In fact, we may be wracked with guilt over the things that we should have done, that we should have done immediately, and we still haven’t done them – whether it’s having a difficult conversation to make peace in a relationship, or picking up the phone or going to visit someone who is sick, or making the time to finish a project or task that no longer seems interesting to us.

But today, I invite you to remember the story of Jonah. When God told Jonah that it was time to go to Ninevah, Jonah didn’t just procrastinate about the journey, he actually ran in the other direction to avoid the trip. God sent Jonah to go to Ninevah and call that great city to repentance – to call them to return to the ways of God. It wasn’t the kind of mission that most people would get excited about, and I think it scared Jonah to death!

It was time for him to go to Ninevah, and Jonah ran away. But after a bit of back-peddling and a time-out in the belly of a fish, Jonah eventually went. He went to Ninevah and he marched around the city and called the people to repentance, as God had told him to do.

And they did repent. Right away. All the people “great and small” proclaimed a fast and put on sack cloth – signs of repentance. Even the king repented, and he made a decree that everyone in the city should do the same – repent of their evil ways and cry mightily to God. “Who knows?” he said, “God may relent and change his mind; he may turn from his fierce anger, so that we do not perish.” And that, indeed, is what God did.

It is time, Jesus proclaimed. The Kingdom of God is near. Repent, and believe in the good news. It is time, Jesus called. Come and follow me and be my disciples. It is time, Jesus continues to call. It is time to live differently, to make your lives about following my way, to respond to my invitations, to do my work in the world. It is time to stop, to listen, and to seek to understand our Aboriginal sisters and brothers who were affected by the legacy of the residential schools. This is a KAIROS moment, and one not to be missed. It is time.

The following sermon is posted with thanks to Kathryn Matthews Huey, whose reflections on Psalm 139 (from the website of the United Church of Christ) provided significant inspiration, and from whom I borrowed several paragraphs.

There is an obvious connection between the Old Testament and Gospel readings this morning. They are “call narratives” – stories about people who received a call from God. In First Samuel 3, a little boy is called to become “a trustworthy prophet of the Lord,” and John’s Gospel tells the story of Philip and Nathanael leaving everything behind to follow Jesus when they realize that he is the one “about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote.”

Many of us here today (perhaps all of us) have also been called by God. We probably weren’t wakened by God’s voice calling out our name in the middle of the night, and we didn’t have Jesus literally walk up to us and say, “Come and follow me.” But we have heard God’s call in the words of the Bible, through the voices of preachers and teachers, or as an urgent sense of needing to get out of our own concerns and do something for God.

Some have heard calls to particular ministries in the church. Others have sensed a call to speak up for someone who was in trouble, or to speak out for what was right and just at work or in the community. We’ve been called to give our gifts and to give our time and talent. We’ve been called to live our lives for God and to follow the way of Jesus, whether or not we have a dramatic story to share about the day that we first heard God’s voice.

I noticed an odd little detail in the story about Jesus calling Nathanael this week. When Jesus saw Nathanael coming towards him, he said to him, “Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!” What a nice thing to hear from Jesus!

“I know that you are a good person, an honest person, not the kind of person who would lie or steal or try to trick someone!” That’s the gist of what Jesus says to Nathanael when Nathanael first walks up to him.

And Nathanael asks Jesus, “Where did you get to know me?” “You’ve never met me before. How do you know what I’m like?” And Jesus tells him, “I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you.”

A more argumentative person probably would have had a few more questions for Jesus: “So you saw me under the fig tree… So what? What could you possibly know about me from that? You don’t even know my name!”

But Nathanael replied instead, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!” The implication is that Nathanael has come to believe simply because he can see that this man knows him.

It makes me wonder about how Jesus must have been looking at Nathanael – what he must have been conveying through his eyes, or through his posture, through more than just his words. Jesus barely even speaks the words, “I know you, Nathanael,” and somehow Nathanael feels that he is known – maybe even that he is loved. And he believes. And he follows Jesus.

Psalm 139 is one of my favourite psalms. And when I thought about Nathanael’s question, “Where did you get to know me?” I realized that the psalm provides a fitting response.

If Nathanael was familiar with the psalm prayers of his Hebrew Tradition, perhaps Psalm 139 sprang to his mind as he stood before Jesus for the first time. Perhaps what became clear to Nathanael in that interaction was that this man KNEW him in a way that only GOD can know each one of us.

The psalmist writes this prayer to God:
“O Lord, you have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away. You search out my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, O Lord, you know it completely. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is so high that I cannot attain it.”

Unlike the rest of the Bible, the psalms are addressed directly to God. The other books are history, stories, law, proverbial sayings, letters and other forms of writing. But the psalms are Israel’s prayer book. And even today, thousands of years later, they still express our deepest feelings, fear and joy and anger and confusion, better than anything that we can come up with.

Isn’t it amazing to think about the psalmist? We might picture him sitting on a rock on a hillside, writing these beautiful words. When I read them, they bring to mind the pictures, provided by modern technological wonders, of an unborn child, curled in the foetal position, sucking her thumb, cradled in her mother’s womb: “It was you who formed my inward parts;” the psalmist writes, “you knit me together in my mother’s womb.”

A prayer arises naturally in our throats when we see such a wonder. It’s a prayer of praise, not of ourselves, as if we are responsible for our own beauty or even for the beauty of our children. From our hearts comes a prayer of praise and worship and adoration of the God who has formed not only the vast expanses of heaven and earth and all the unfathomable mysteries they contain, but also the tiny, delicate fingers and toes of a newborn baby.

It is easy for us, as parents, or grandparents, or loving friends, to see the beauty and wonder of God’s handiwork when we look at a newborn baby or a child, or when we raise our eyes to the heavens and gaze at the stars, or when we walk in a garden and see the exquisite loveliness of flowers and stones side by side.

What seems to be more difficult is for us to look at ourselves, all grown up and somewhat the worse for wear, and to pray that same prayer with quite the same enthusiasm. As we live out our lives, knowing both failures and shortcomings, as well as accomplishments and successes, we seem to know especially well our faults and limitations. Of course we try to hide them. But they are ever present in our own minds.

Peter Gomes wrote a book about the Bible called “The Good Book.” In one chapter, entitled “The Bible and the Good Life,” he describes the “imposter syndrome” that afflicts us all. We spend our days, he says, in image building, trying to hide our weaknesses from one another, whether in the boardroom, on the athletic field or on the battlefield. We dress a certain way, use body language and speech in a certain way, and even pile up credentials and experience to prove that we are “good enough.”

But Gomes reminds us: “There is good news, and that is why they call it the Gospel. The news is not that we are worse than we think, it is that we are better than we think, and better than we deserve to be. Why? Because at the very bottom of the whole enterprise is the indisputable fact that we are created, made, formed, invented, patented in the image of goodness itself. That is what it means, that is how one translates being created in the image of God: it means to be created in the image of goodness itself… People may take everything away from you, they may deprive you of everything you have and value, but they cannot take away from you the fact that you are a child of God and bear the impression of God in your very soul.”

What the psalm tells us is that God is with us at the core of our very being, deeper than anything the scientists can ever measure or understand. The psalm reassures us that no matter what, God knows us, each and every one of us. We are precious in God’s sight.

The reading from First Corinthians today – as specific as it may be about what Paul teaches we should and should not do with our bodies – is, at its core, about the fact that we belong to God. Our spirits, our minds, and indeed our bodies, are the good creation of God, made to glorify God in all things. We are temples of the Holy Spirit – creations of God made to carry God’s good Spirit within us. And we are not our own – we belong to God.

And yet, it’s still hard to hear those stories of God’s call and not to assume that God calls only especially good, or talented, or wise, or holy people to do God’s work in the world. James Limburg, writing in the commentary “Feasting on the Word,” assures us that each and every one of us is that specially created and chosen one of God. He says “we are not mass-produced but custom-made.” And then he tells the story about a young rabbi called Zusya.

Zusya was quite discouraged about his failures and weaknesses. An older rabbi said to him, “When you get to heaven, God is not going to say to you, “Why weren’t you Moses?” No, God will say, “Why weren’t you Zusya?” So why don’t you stop trying to be Moses, and start being the Zusya God created you to be?”

“I praise you, O God, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; that I know very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes beheld my unformed substance. In your book were written all the days that were formed for me, when none of them as yet existed.”

May we know, this day, that we are beautiful, wonderful creations and precious to the God who knows us completely. And may we hear God’s voice calling us to follow Jesus and to use our precious lives for the glory of God alone. Amen.

St. Andrew’s Will Host an Ecumenical Worship Service on Monday, January 23rd at 7:00 a.m. During the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity each year, the Prairie Centre for Ecumenism co-ordinates a series of worship opportunities in churches of many denominations across the city of Saskatoon. St. Andrew’s has agreed to host one of the early morning services, followed by a continental breakfast in the lower hall of the church.

We hope that many of our members will take the opportunity to participate in this prayer for the unity of the church, either by attending the service at St. Andrew’s and welcoming our Christian friends, or by joining in the other prayer services throughout the week. See the full schedule for the WPCU in Saskatoon January 22-29, 2012.

Holy Communion: A Study of Theology and Practice: The Session of St. Andrew’s is planning to meet on Saturday, February 4th from 1:00 – 4:00 p.m. to study and discuss the theology and practice of Holy Communion in our church. This event will be open to anyone in the congregation to attend and participate.

Holy Communion is a gift from Christ to the church. Before there were Books of Common Order or formal creeds, even before the New Testament was written, the first Christians met on the Lord’s Day to read the Scriptures, the letters from the apostles, and to celebrate the Lord’s Supper.

Please join us for this time of study and discussion as we deepen our understanding of this Sacrament, as well as appreciate the mystery of Christ’s presence with us when we gather at the Table of the Lord. We will conclude the afternoon with a short worship service and celebration of Holy Communion.

“Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you became believers?” Well into the Book of Acts and the story of the early Christian Church, the Apostle Paul passed through a particular region and came to the city of Ephesus, where he found some disciples. Paul asked them, “Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you became believers?” And they replied, “No, we have not even heard that there is a Holy Spirit.”

It’s probably a reasonable assumption to expect that there is no one here today who has not heard that there is a Holy Spirit. Some of you may be intimately acquainted with the Spirit, having experienced its working in your lives. Perhaps it was a nudge you felt pushing you to do something for God’s mission. Maybe it was a peace that you experienced despite the fear and stress associated with a crisis in your life. Or perhaps you knew that the Holy Spirit was surrounding you when you simply had the sense that God was near and that you were not alone.

We have an advantage, compared to the first small group of Christians in Ephesus, and that advantage is that someone has already come to tell us about the Spirit. We have the witness of our parents and grandparents in the faith. We have the testimony of the apostles and the church throughout the centuries. We have the Scriptures, including the New Testament writings, that pass along the convictions of the earliest Christians.

We can read about how they experienced God’s abiding presence, not only in the life of Jesus of Nazareth, but through an intangible presence that remained with them even after Jesus had died and been raised up to heaven. They experienced this Spirit of God both as a comfort and encouragement, and as one who filled them and equipped them to be instruments of God’s work in the world – proclaiming the Gospel and sharing God’s love with all whom they met.

But when Paul first stopped by the city of Ephesus, the group of twelve disciples there had not even heard of the Holy Spirit yet. They knew that God was doing a new thing in their time. They had received the baptism of repentance that John the Baptist had been offering, and they had probably repented of their sin and turned their lives towards the goal of following Jesus and his teachings.

We can imagine that they were probably very excited about the new life that they had begun. But they were probably also pretty worried about whether they would be able to live up to God’s expectations. Jesus’ way of life was not an easy one to follow, and they may not have been too sure that they could pull it off.

Until Paul got to their city, no one had told them that they weren’t alone. No one had told them that they would have help along the way in their new Christian lives. No one had told them that God was not only present in Jesus Christ, when Jesus walked around in the world preaching, and teaching, and healing… and God was not only present as a heavenly Father above them… but God was actually present in their lives, in their bodies, in their relationships, and all around them.

Over the next several centuries, as the church grew and became established, the Scriptures were written, collected, and edited. The doctrines of the church were put into words and eventually agreed-upon creeds or statements of faith. And I don’t think you could become a Christian today without first having learned about and professed your faith in God the Holy Trinity – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

This past Fall, the Sunday morning bible study group decided to explore the Holy Spirit together. We didn’t find a study book or resource to guide us, so we simply delved into the Scriptures themselves looking for the many references to the Holy Spirit and seeing what we could learn about this mysterious and powerful presence in the lives of God’s people throughout history.

This morning’s readings provide some great samples from the passages that we discovered together, and they emphasize the fact that the Holy Spirit was present from the very beginning, was made manifest in the life of Christ, and continued to inspire and animate God’s people even after Jesus’ death and resurrection.

And today is not an exceptional Sunday. You can’t hang around the church community for very long without noticing the readings about the promised Holy Spirit, without hearing prayers for the Spirit’s help and encouragement in our lives, without joining in words such as these from Living Faith:
“The Holy Spirit is the Lord and Giver of Life,
the Renewer and Helper of God’s people.
By the Spirit, God is present in the world,
the source of all goodness and justice.
By the Spirit, God convinces the world of sin
and testifies to the truth of Christ.
By the Spirit, Christ is with his church.”

When we welcome a new little one into our church family, or when a teen or an adult comes to profess their faith and be baptized, we are clear about what we believe is happening. It’s the Holy Spirit who is at work in the Sacrament of Baptism. And we pray:

“Almighty God;
by the power of your Holy Spirit,
by the sign of this water,
you cleanse from sin through the death of Jesus Christ,
those who receive this sacrament;
you raise them to new life through his resurrection,
and you graft them into his body, the church.
Pour out your Spirit upon these your children,
that they may have power to do your will
and continue forever as servants of Christ
to whom, with you and the Holy Spirit
be all honour and glory, now and forever.”

But I wonder… if Paul or someone were to come through Saskatoon today and meet the little group of disciples that meets for worship and service and fellowship in this place… if Paul were to come by and ask us straight up, “Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you became believers?” how would we respond? How do we know that we received the Spirit? How do we know that the Spirit is actually within us?

Some might claim that they felt the Spirit’s presence at their baptism. I’ve been heard to say something like that when I reflect on my baptism as a teenager… that I felt the warmth of the Spirit around me, that I had a sense of being surrounded and filled with the Spirit of God.

But others might say that they know that the Spirit is in their lives because they trust in the statements and doctrines of the church. The church teaches that the Holy Spirit comes to dwell within us in our baptism, that the Spirit fills and equips the people of God to be the Body of Christ in the world, and many of us may place our trust in that authority.

Of course, as Christians in the Reformed Tradition, we place a great deal of emphasis on the ultimate authority of the Scriptures. And the Bible is full of the assurance that God’s Spirit is promised and given as a gift to God’s people. We might easily rely on that promise and proclaim that yes, indeed, we did receive the Holy Spirit when we were baptized.

At times, the Spirit has been compared to the wind. And rightly so, because both the Greek word for Spirit (pneuma) and the Hebrew word for Spirit (ruach) can be translated appropriately as spirit, breath, or wind – that amazing force or power of God that brings life to the world.

The wind, of course, cannot be seen. But the wind is powerful, and the effects of the wind can be seen and heard and experienced. Indeed, the effects of the wind are often very difficult to ignore. And the same is true for the Holy Spirit of God.

I’m reminded of that when I think of the first day of Pentecost after Jesus’ death and resurrection. I wonder how the various disciples that were present described the experience they shared of receiving the gift of the Holy Spirit. Someone said it was like a great wind sweeping through the room and tongues of fire landing on the disciples. Someone else might have said that they suddenly felt filled up with courage and boldness to engage in God’s mission. And another would have described it as an uneasy feeling that would not subside until they got out of that house and starting telling the people about Jesus.

But we know that the Spirit was poured out on the gathered disciples that day because we see the effects of the Spirit in their lives. They began to preach the Gospel. They reached out beyond boundaries of language and culture, and told the Good News that changed the lives of many and turned their hearts towards God.

In his letter to the Galatian Christians, Paul makes it clear that the Holy Spirit can be seen in the lives of God’s people. There is a way to know if they received the Holy Spirit, or at least to know if they are living BY the Spirit, allowing the Spirit to guide and direct their lives. And that evidence is the fruit of the Spirit – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

I attended a funeral yesterday. It was a celebration of the life of a Saskatoon woman who died way too young at the age of 40. I knew Sheryl from having served with her on the Leadership and Program Committee for Camp Christopher where I appreciated her cheerfulness, her helpfulnesss, and her kindness. And I learned a great deal more about her life yesterday as I listened to the tributes and remembrances of her family and friends.

They didn’t spend time at the service talking about what Sheryl believed, or the fact that she was baptized, and there wasn’t a big focus on reassuring us all that she would be heading towards heaven to be with God. But I left the service with a deep sense of the Spirit of God in her life.

I don’t know if she had any “spiritual” experiences, and I doubt that she ever spoke in tongues, but the fruit of the Spirit was evident in her life. The people who came in contact with her could attest to the fact that her life brought love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control into their lives. And so I have no doubt that she was filled with the Holy Spirit, and she was letting that Spirit guide her life, because that Spirit was producing good fruit.

It caused me to reflect, as funeral services often do, what might be said about me if my life were to suddenly come to an end. I wonder if you’ve thought about that too at times. In what ways is my life, my time, my energy being directed by the Spirit such that it produces kindness or generosity? It what ways am I allowing the Spirit to guide me to share love, and express joy, and cultivate peace?

Perhaps there is an area or two that is challenging for you… generosity that is stifled by fear, patience that is tried by difficult circumstances, or faithfulness that is undermined by experiences of being betrayed. But the fact that we do not yet produce all this fruit perfectly does not indicate that the Spirit has left us, or that we never had the Spirit of God within us. It simply means that the Spirit has some work left to accomplish within us, and we need to make space in our lives for the transformation that God is preparing for us.

I believe that whether we know it or not, we have all been blessed with the gift of God’s Holy Spirit in our lives. And no, we don’t have to prove it, or account for it, or give any evidence to demonstrate it. But we do need to make space in our lives for the Spirit to guide us – to let the fruit grow and bless the world.

Consider the various fruit – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Which one can you simply celebrate as a gift that is already manifest in your life? Which one do you need to make space for, or to cultivate? Don’t expect them all to grow as easily and quickly as the others. But remember that their growth does not come from your determination or your strength, but by the Holy Spirit’s activity in and through you.

When the end of your life does come, and your friends and family and church community share stories of the difference that you made in the world and in their lives, it won’t be because you are awesome. It won’t be because you are the best person in the world. It will be because of the gift of God’s Holy Spirit that filled you, and equipped you, and worked through you to produce wonderful fruit. Thanks be to God.

Children’s Message:
Good morning, and Merry Christmas to all of you! I am so glad that you are here today. It is good to see you, and to shake your hands, and to be together to praise God on this Christmas morning!

I wonder… have you ever been far away from someone you loved at a special time like Christmas? Maybe you sent that person a Christmas card, which is nice. Or maybe you even got to talk on the phone, which is even better. That’s what I’ll do with my parents and sisters and brother this Christmas. I’ll talk to them on the phone. That will be good, but not quite as good as actually being there – where you can see each other, and give each other hugs, and just spend time together.

This year, Nick and I are going to fly to BC. We’re leaving this afternoon to visit Nick’s parents, and we’re looking forward to being with them. I wonder if you have anyone special visiting you this year… Does anyone have any special guests with them for Christmas? (We are so glad that you are here!)

Now, to those of you who are hosting guests: When did you start to get excited about your visitors? Was it just today when you got up on Christmas morning? Or was it the day your guests arrived? Or was it the day you found out they were coming? It was earlier, wasn’t it? Before they even arrived!

That reminds me of a passage from the bible – from the prophet Isaiah. He wrote it a long time before the time of Jesus. It was during a time when the People of Israel were feeling very lonely and sad. Some of their friends had been taken away to live in exile in a foreign land, and things back home just weren’t the same without them. The people felt so discouraged that they thought maybe God didn’t care about them anymore. They couldn’t imagine how God could let something like this happen!

But the prophet Isaiah knew better. He knew that God never abandons us, and he was sure that something good was going to happen soon, the exiles were going to come home.

This is what Isaiah wrote: (Isaiah 52:7-10)
How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace, who brings good news, who announces salvation, who says to Zion, “Your God reigns.” Listen! Your sentinels lift up their voices, together they sing for joy; for in plain sight they see the return of the Lord to Zion. Break forth together into singing, you ruins of Jerusalem; for the Lord has comforted his people, he has redeemed Jerusalem. The Lord has bared his holy arm before the eyes of all the nations; and all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God.

That bible reading had some big words in it, but I hope you got the idea… A messenger is coming to announce the good news that God’s People are all coming home to be with their friends in Jerusalem. God has not left the people. God is helping them. And God is planning for a wonderful reunion. They can see the messenger coming with the good news! It’s almost time!

The people must have been so excited when they say the messenger coming. Even before the messenger arrived, they were excited. They said, “Look at the beautiful feet of the messenger who is coming!” They were so excited about the good news he was bringing that they thought even the feet that carried him to them were beautiful.

Some of us have been excited about our visitors and about visits we get to go on this Christmas. But we’ve all been excited about Christmas itself, haven’t we? I don’t know about you, but sometimes on Christmas Eve, I’m almost too excited to go to sleep. I lie awake thinking about all the special Christmas things – with Christmas carols running through my mind – and wondering about the special things that will happen on Christmas Day.

I hope that today will be a wonderful day for all of you, and that you’ll remember the best gift of all that we celebrate at Christmas. God’s people waited a long, long time for this special gift – for God to actually come and visit them IN PERSON. (Not just a message or a commandment.) Jesus was born. And Jesus is God coming to be with us in person. Let’s celebrate this wonderful gift!

Meditation:
Today we celebrate the incarnation of God. God is not just a good idea, or a kind thought. But God became a body – with hands and arms, feet and legs, head and heart. As the author of the book of Hebrews explains it, “Long ago God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets.” God preached, and God instructed, God corrected, and God comforted. And God did all this with words.

But now, “in these last days [God] has spoken to us by a Son.” “And the Word became flesh,” John’s Gospel proclaims so eloquently, “the Word became flesh and lived among us.”

We have all experienced the blessing of having someone we love come to visit us. Strangely, we don’t always have much to say when they come. After all, we’ve been communicating all along through letters or emails or texts or phone calls. But something is so different and so special when that person comes to visit us. We’re not alone. We’re at home. We can just BE together.

“How beautiful are the FEET of the messenger who announces peace and brings good news,” Isaiah proclaims. “But what is beautiful about feet?” we might ask. Not much, really. Feet are pretty funny-looking, when you think about it. They can certainly look pretty yucky, especially when they’re tired and sore, when they’re blistered or calloused… and they might not smell very nice either!

But what is beautiful about the feet is their coming. What is beautiful about the feet is the purpose they serve in carrying the messenger and his good news. What is beautiful about the feet is what they are doing – travelling the distance and climbing the mountains to get there.

How extraordinary is this good news that the messenger brings to the People of Israel? It is so good that the exiles rejoice even before it is achieved. They praise the very feet of the messenger who is bringing news to Zion that its citizens are on their way home; they break into singing when the sentinels send out word that the exiles can be seen in the distance; they are comforted even before they celebrate their reunions.

Biblical commentaries note that even the verb tenses in the passage play up the relationship between what has already happened, what is happening, and what has yet to happen. And there is excitement about all three! God HAS COMFORTED his people, he HAS REDEEMED Jerusalem. The messenger IS ANNOUNCING peace, he IS BRINGING good news. And all the ends of the earth WILL SEE the salvation of our God.

This interplay of tenses is a normal part of our expression of faith as well. In Advent, we waited for the God who CAME to us in the form of a manger-born baby, and now we wait for God who WILL COME again.

At Christmas, we celebrate God’s redemption of the world through the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Christ. It’s an event that happened more than 2000 years ago. It is finished. And yet, even as we celebrate what God has done, we have to notice that God is doing something right now. God is present with us, and God is coming to us in Word and Sacrament. God is comforting us in our sorrow, and rejoicing with us in our joy. God is forgiving us for our sins, and calling us to follow the way of Jesus with our lives. God is turning our lives upside down, just as God turned the world upside down so many years ago with the coming of the child.

What God has done for us in the past, and what God is doing in us, and among us, and between us today are beautifully intertwined. And they are also tied up with our hope for what God will one day complete.

For we look and wait for the day when Christ will come again to make all things new. We watch and we work for the day when the Kingdom of God will be fulfilled, when the earth is filled with the knowledge and love of God, as the waters cover the sea. Even today, on Christmas Day, we live between “the already” and “the not yet.”

“How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace, who brings good news.” As we learn to see even the feet of the messenger as praiseworthy, we gain practice in praise for that day when the ends of the earth do see the salvation of our God, and praise is all that is left to do. Amen.

This reflection followed a creative presentation of the Christmas story by the children of St. Andrew’s Church School. The Christmas story was told in an imaginative way – from the perspective of the inn keeper’s family and their neighbours down the street who were actively looking for God’s Messiah to come.

I went to see Handel’s Messiah on Wednesday evening last week. It was presented, as usual, by the Saskatoon Symphony Chamber Orchestra and the Saskatoon Chamber Singers – the continuation of a wonderful Christmas tradition both here and around the world.

Although I’ve listened to Handel’s Messiah many times before, and even sung in performances of the choruses in my youth, I was struck once again by the amazing musical settings of some of the most powerful and meaningful words of scripture that are so dear to us as Christians.

One of the things that stood out was how many of the texts Handel chose were from the Old Testament – from the prophets. In our children’s Christmas play this morning, these would have been the prophetic texts that the father was trying to teach to his children, and that his daughter, Esther, was exploring. These were the texts that explained that God would send a Saviour, a Messiah, and that he would come as a child. And Esther and her father were waiting and watching for these texts to be fulfilled, for God’s promises to be granted.

• Behold, a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Emmanuel – God with us.

It is interesting to imagine, with the author of today’s play, that a family of Jewish people, living in Bethlehem at the turn of the first century, were studying the prophets’ words and watching for God’s promises to be fulfilled in the birth of a child who would come to be God’s very presence with us.

The historical reality, of course, is more likely that Jesus was born without anyone much noticing that he was born. No one probably figured out that he was anyone special until many years later – maybe when they heard him preaching in the synagogue or teaching in the countryside, maybe when they saw him performing miracles or heard his bold pronouncements of grace and forgiveness.

But even then, most people missed the fact that Jesus was God’s Word made flesh. They had no idea that the promises and predictions of the great prophets were being fulfilled in him.

• For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given, unto us a son is given…

It wasn’t until much later that Jesus’ followers and others began to truly understand who he was. It was long after his birth, after his ministry, after his rejection and his death on a cross. It was after some of Jesus’ followers started to proclaim that God had raised him from death, that he had appeared to them, and then gone up into heaven.

That’s when they were able to look back on his life, his ministry, and his death, and to see the amazing gift that he was – to see that he was God’s very presence with us, God’s Word made flesh, God’s promises fulfilled, God’s love for us lived out in the life of a human person.

My hope for each one of us this Christmas is that we would not go through this season unaware of the presence of God in our lives. Sure, we could probably look back on this time many months or years from now, and identify the ways that God was present and active in our church, in our families, and in our community.

But my hope is that today we will catch a little bit of the spirit of the Esther character in the play. Not only was she interested in God’s promises, but she was actively looking for God to be doing something in her life. Not many people would have noticed what she did.

But not only that… Esther wanted to get involved in what she saw God was doing. She decided to participate – to help in preparing God’s way into the world.

I wonder… Can we be people who are actively looking for God’s presence in our world, who are noticing what is happening right in front of our eyes where God’s presence is made flesh among us?

And can we be people who are looking for ways to be involved – to provide a cup of water, or a place to sleep, or a blanket for a cold night?

May the words of the prophets be fulfilled, and the Word of God become flesh once again this Christmas. May the Word become flesh in our lives.

• Then shall the eyes of the blind be opened,
  and the ears of the deaf unstopped.
  Then shall the lame man leap as an hart,
  and the tongue of the dumb shall sing.

Peace before us, peace behind us, peace under our feet,
Peace within us, peace over us, let us around us be peace.

Advent is an appropriate season to spend time in prayer for peace.

In the midst of the hustle and bustle of this busy month, we might pray for moments of peace, quiet, and calm in which to experience the presence of God in our lives. And we could pray for the gift of peace for those whose schedules keep them running, or whose “to do” lists are too long to complete in these few weeks.

Remembering those who are weighed down by heavy responsibilities and stressful situations, we might pray for the gift of peace that relieves stress and reduces anxiety. We could pray for those who suffer from anxiety disorders, as well as for those who are experiencing stress-inducing circumstances.

It would be appropriate also, for us to pray for peace in the lives of those who are struggling with brokenness in their relationships – for couples who feel stuck in cycles of conflict, for parents and children who cannot see eye to eye, for siblings, cousins, friends, and colleagues who are mis-communicating, mis-understanding, and so desperately need God’s help for reconciliation and peace.

We might also think of so many people who are longing for peace in their own minds and hearts. For those wracked with guilt, we could pray for God’s forgiveness to lead them to healing and peace. And for those consumed by anger, we could pray that they receive the courage to offer forgiveness themselves, and to find freedom and peace.

Even as we pray for peace in our own lives, in our families, and between friends, we should also pray for peace in our church, and in all the churches of the world. People outside the church might wonder at that. Don’t church people get along with each other? Or if we don’t seem to get along, they might write off the church as a place full of hypocrites. You people are supposed to be good! You’re supposed to be kind and generous and forgiving, and you can’t even get along?

But we’re all human, and we need God’s help to live and work and serve together in peace. We need God’s help to care for one another in appropriate ways, to make space for one another to share all our gifts, and to be patient with each other when we’re not perfect.

And, of course, we need to pray for the gift of peace in our world. We need to pray for peace between countries and world leaders, between cultures, tribes, and religions. We need to pray for peace – for the true SHALOM of God – which is not just the absence of conflict, but the fullness of life for all people.

True peace needs righteousness. Not the puffed-up morality the word has often come to connote, but righteousness in its original meaning, that is, RIGHT RELATIONS, be they with God, with others, in our families, or among nations.

Sometimes we call it justice. But for that righteousness or justice to be more than legalistic fairness, it needs the breadth of vision found in God’s shalom – God’s peace.

Peace before us, peace behind us, peace under our feet,
Peace within us, peace over us, let us around us be peace.

Last Sunday we talked and prayed about the longing that we have for a world set right – for God’s kingdom to come in its fullness, for Christ’s return, for a new heaven and a new earth. And today, it’s almost like we’re one step closer to that longing being fulfilled. We’ve moved from LONGING to ANTICIPATION.

We heard the words of 2^nd Isaiah this morning, encouraging God’s people as they neared the end of their exile in Babylon: “Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that she has served her term… See, the Lord God comes with might… He will feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep.”

The struggle is nearly over, and peace is on its way. God is with the people, and God is helping them and guiding them towards a hopeful and peaceful future.

In the first chapter of Mark’s Gospel too, there is great anticipation for a new day that is dawning. The long-awaited Messiah is on his way. The powerful One who will baptize the people with the Holy Spirit is coming. He’s almost here, John the Baptist proclaims. It’s time to start preparing for his coming.

I’ve preached on those classic texts from Isaiah and Mark many times before, but I don’t think I’ve ever paid much attention to this morning’s psalm. This week, however, it was Psalm 85 that piqued my interest.

Not unlike Isaiah’s words today, Psalm 85 proclaims the goodness of God and the amazing grace of God to forgive the people and restore their fortunes. It includes several verses of lament in which the people pray for God’s help and salvation, and then the psalmist shares a wonderful vision of God’s salvation this is coming: “Surely God’s salvation is at hand,” he assures us. And this is what salvation will look like:

“Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet;
righteousness and peace will kiss each other.
Faithfulness will spring up from the ground,
and righteousness will look down from the sky.”

I think you have to have a bit of a poetic heart to understand this psalm. These wonderful characteristics of love, faithfulness, justice, and peace are coming together in a beautiful meeting. These holy attributes are personified so that we may imagine hands reaching out in greeting, and arms opening wide in an embrace.

These virtues coming together in unity are what bring about the salvation of God – they are what make for the new order that is full of God’s peace.

The peace that the psalmist expects God to proclaim is SHALOM, a comprehensive well-being that encompasses the fulfillment of every individual and corporate need, as well as the health of the natural order, in addition to the absence of violence and conflict.

The covenant bringing SHALOM is God’s gift. It is at God’s initiative. It is God’s work and God’s accomplishment. And yet, the people also have a part to play by turning to God, remaining faithful, and co-operating with God’s purposes.

After all, both Isaiah and John the Baptist told the people the good news about what God was doing, and they called the people to respond. They said, “Repent!” They told them to “Prepare!” They made sure that everyone knew that something wonderful was about to happen and that everyone had a chance to be a part of it.

One commentator suggests that in Psalm 85, attributes of God (steadfast love and righteousness) are paired up with responses from God’s people (faithfulness and peace). It is God’s righteousness that is described as “looking down from the sky,” and our faithfulness is springing up from the ground. (Doesn’t that description sound like some of Jesus’ parables about the kingdom of God?)

The coming kingdom is not something that we can accomplish for ourselves through our own good works, but neither is it something that God does in isolation. The kingdom is something that happens when God’s steadfast love meets our faithfulness, when God’s righteousness and justice embrace our commitment to peace.

And so, as we wait and pray for peace in our lives, in our relationships, in our church, and in our world, we do so NOT as passive observers, waiting for God to set things right. But we do so as people who are called and empowered to respond to God’s goodness. We do so as people who are invited to participate in God’s plan for salvation and peace.

Peace before us, peace behind us, peace under our feet,
Peace within us, peace over us, let us around us be peace.

Although most congregations and ministers might agree with the ecumenical goal in theory, actual sharing in worship, witness and service with our Christian neighbours often gets pushed aside because of the busy schedules and many demands on our church leaders.  On the Canadian Prairies, the churches have a long history of working together, and the current members of the Presbytery of Northern Saskatchewan have inherited a great legacy of involvement and relationship with our Christian friends. Not only do our congregations and ministers participate in local ministerials and councils of churches, but as a presbytery we are one of seven sponsoring denominations of the Prairie Centre for Ecumenism in Saskatoon. The purpose of the Centre is “to be an instrument for Christian reconciliation and unity… and to advance towards that unity in order that the world may believe.”

Read the complete letter on the Record’s website.

The concert will follow the “Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols” format, which is an order of service made famous by the annual performances from King’s College, Cambridge.  The format for the “Lessons and Carols” was created in 1880 by Edward White Benson, later Archbishop of Canterbury but at that time Bishop of Truro in Cornwall.  It was further adapted in 1918 by Eric Milner-White, dean of King’s College Cambridge.  Lessons and Carols occur in Anglican, Roman Catholic, Lutheran and Presbyterian churches.  St. Andrew’s will be using seven of the nine lessons and after each lesson there will be a choir anthem, solo or a carol sung by choir and congregation.

Please join us in this enchanting, inspirational evening of Christmas readings and song.

Anyone interested in joining the festivity is welcome to participate; a free will offering will be taken for the Good Food Junction. Children and youth interested in taking part are asked to be at Third Avenue United Church (304 3^rd Ave N) at 2:00 pm on December 10^th for a rehearsal (with costumes, if you have them!).

Those who would like a CD of the music to practice ahead of time can contact Janice Sanford Beck at 655-5301. Refreshments will be served. Anyone willing to contribute cookies or fruit is asked to bring it to Third Avenue United Church between 1:00 and 2:00 pm on Dec 10^th.

If your life is perfect, then you may not be able to relate to the scripture texts this morning for the first Sunday in Advent. If you are happy and healthy and well, and you live with your beautiful family in a lovely neighbourhood, enjoying your spacious home and your comfortable income… If you’re getting ready for an absolutely wonderful holiday season of socializing and gift-giving, laughter and good times, without a care in the world… then perhaps this morning’s readings will seem a little out of place or off the wall.

But, you know as well as I that the congregation here on Sunday mornings is not made up of super-duper people with perfect lives. That’s not the reason for the smiles and laughter that we share as we gather in this place. In fact, you’re not the only one here today who’s come despite the struggles, who’s come carrying heavy burdens, who’s come with pain, or disappointment, or stress, or grief beyond compare.

For one, it’s the fatigue that comes from constant caregiving and the many thankless jobs still needing to be done. For another, it’s the worry and stress caused by a difficult work situation or a boss who just doesn’t seem to understand.

Someone else is finding it hard to get up in the morning because of a chronic illness, while another is aching with loneliness through the night because of a loved one who is no longer present.

A young person is struggling to find meaning and direction in life, and one who is older is looking back with regret at missed opportunities and unfulfilled dreams. Even the one whose life seems to be going well may be feeling overwhelmed and ready to break from all the demands to serve, and help, and give for those who are in trouble.

And while one person’s relationship struggles are making her feel like her whole world is coming apart, another is feeling something similar as he considers the world in which we live with so much conflict, chaos, and destruction.

How many times have we prayed something that amounts to “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down!”? We long for a resolution to our own particular issues. We long for relief from our own particular pain and struggle. We long to see a world set to right, peace and stability prevailing, justice reigning, and safety surrounding. And this is a longing that both Isaiah and his contemporaries in the post-exilic period, and the early Christian community of which Mark’s author was a member, could understand.

The reading from 3^rd Isaiah that we heard this morning was a prayer of longing. Its origin is the city of Jerusalem during the period immediately after the Babylonian exile, sometime after 537 BCE. As you probably remember, Judah and Jerusalem were conquered by the Babylonians, the temple was destroyed, and many of the people were sent to live in a foreign land.

During that troubling time, the prophets provided encouragement, and 2^nd Isaiah in particular expected a glorious return and restoration of the people, the land, and the temple. But instead, even when they got the opportunity to go home, they found themselves frustrated by innumerable hardships. And as despair increased, the returnees begged God for a miraculous resolution to their unhappy situation.

What is clear is that the people felt like God had abandoned them. They thought God must be hiding from them because all they could see around them was hopelessness, despair, and destruction. They hadn’t noticed God doing much of anything for a long time. God has hidden himself, they were saying, and that’s the reason why no one was paying much attention to God.

Haven’t we all felt something like that at times? And how difficult it can be to keep on praying, to keep on coming to church, when nothing seems to change, when there seems to be no response from God, and no sign of God’s presence or compassion?

But what is striking about this prayer of longing is that someone utters it. Someone keeps on talking to God through the darkness and doubt of God’s seeming absence. Someone keeps on crying out and begging for God’s help, while others have given up and gone their own way.

What the author of the prayer does is to look for signs of hope. Now, what he might have done was to look around at the situation and try to find something to feel optimistic about… “At least we’re not still in Babylon…” Perhaps all of these trials will make us stronger?” “Well, now that we’ve hit rock bottom, there’s nowhere to go from here but up!”

You see, optimism and hope are not quite the same thing. I think optimism is more like “looking on the bright side” or having a good idea that things are likely to improve. But as Patricia E. de Jong puts it, “Hope is what is left when your worst fears have been realized and you are no longer optimistic about your future.”

Those praying in Isaiah did not look AROUND THEM for a reason to be optimistic, but they looked BACK to find hope in the God who had shown himself to be faithful, compassionate, gracious, and powerful. They oriented themselves in the direction in which God was last seen, remembering God’s acts of old, and expressing faithful longing for restoration.

I wonder if that is something that we can do also. In the face of whatever troubles or challenges we face today, and even in those moments when God’s presence is not so apparent, can we access the memories of those times when the Holy One seemed so close that we could almost reach out and touch God?

Remember that early morning, up at the lake, when everyone was still in bed, but you were up watching the sunrise? You were so aware of the gift of the day ahead, of the gift of life itself, and God’s presence around you and your family.

Remember when things were bad once before, and remember the friend who came to listen and encourage you? At first you may not have noticed, but God’s presence was with you in that time – listening, caring, consoling, strengthening.

Remember when you were sure of God’s presence and God’s call on your life? You were filled with excitement and plans and dreams, and you knew that God would be with you through it all. You made promises. You committed your life to God. Remember what that felt like?

Those who prayed the prayer of longing in Isaiah’s time found hope and strength as they looked back because they could recognize God’s saving power in their lives in the past, and that gave them hope for the future as well.

The early Christians, similarly, lived in a time of war, chaos, and disorientation, and they also needed a source of hope and strength to carry on. While Isaiah’s people were struggling with the rebuilding of Jerusalem, these Christians (more than five centuries later) were living in the midst of a war with Rome. The temple was about to be destroyed yet again, and the followers of Jesus were living in fear for their lives as they navigated the new “way” that Christ had called them to live.

But instead of looking back, the early Christians were encouraged to look forward for signs of hope. Words placed in the mouth of Jesus himself acknowledged their suffering and encouraged them to hold on until Jesus’ return: “But in those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see the ‘Son of Man coming in the clouds’ with great power and glory. Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.”

These words in Mark’s Gospel serve to steady and comfort those who are experiencing tribulation with VISIONS that they can hold on to. The point of the speech is not to demonstrate Jesus’ predictive powers, nor to offer explicit details revealing when or how the world will end, but rather to exhort disciples to faithfulness, courage and attentiveness.

As we look forward for signs of hope, we are assured that God will act, that Christ will return, and that the world of justice and peace and security that we long for will be accomplished.

Could we just ignore the problems in our lives or in our world? Perhaps we could just look on the bright side, and try to be optimistic about things. Perhaps we could. But I appreciate the way Patricia K. Tull put it in our bible study material this week: “The more we are aware of that longing, the more it will structure our visions of tomorrow and our prayers for today. Prayers prayed with integrity will shape the way we live… May our longings for redemption structure the decisions that we make each moment of each day.”

As some come forward today to profess their faith for the first time, and as we all join in re-affirming our faith once again, may we be filled with the hope of Jesus to carry us through both the high points and the struggles of our lives. And as we celebrate Holy Communion together, may we experience that hope in the recalling of God’s gracious acts, in the foretaste of the heavenly banquet, and in the very real presence of Christ as we gather at the table of the Lord. Amen.

I don’t know about you, but I’m getting pretty used to all this sheep and shepherd imagery in the Bible. Granted, it’s not exactly something I have a lot of experience with – sheep, or farm animals in general. But I think I get the picture of what it’s all about.

The shepherd cares for the sheep. Makes sure they’re fed. Protects them from predators. Leads them to green pastures and beside still waters. Sometimes the shepherd even goes off to look for a lost sheep, if he’s willing to risk the rest of the flock. And that’s the kind of shepherd that God’s supposed to be – one who cares about each individual sheep and rejoices over every one that’s found.

The prophet Ezekiel is one of the Biblical writers who compares God to a shepherd who cares for, feeds, and guides the People of Israel. They’ve had a number of human leaders ruling over Israel at this point, but Ezekiel accuses these kings of being false shepherds – looking out for themselves instead of the people, ignoring the needs of the people, and allowing them to be scattered.

Ezekiel’s talking about kings that totally messed up – failing the people and letting them be conquered by foreign powers – failing so badly that some of the people have been sent into exile in Babylon. So now God will be their shepherd, the prophet tells us – the true shepherd that these human kings could not be. Ezekiel says that God will “bring them out from the peoples and gather them from the countries, and will bring them into their own land…”

God will be the shepherd of the sheep and will make them lie down. God will “seek the lost, and bring back the strayed, God will bind up the injured, and strengthen the weak. But the fat and the strong, God will destroy. God will feed them with justice.”Destroy? Feed them with justice? Uh oh! This isn’t the nice gentle shepherd God that I was expecting.

The lectionary reading for today suggests that I stop here at verse 16 and jump over to verse 20, but I keep reading anyway, and I find that this shepherd God has become a judge. Judging between fat sheep and lean sheep, between rams and goats. Some of the weaker sheep are being butted around by the stronger ones. The first ones to the pasture are eating their fill, but then trampling on the rest of the field so the others go hungry. The first ones to the stream are drinking what they want of the fresh, clean water, but then ruining the water source with their dirty feet. And the shepherd judge is angry, as well he should be.

In places like China, people know what it’s like to try to survive on what’s left after the pasture has been trampled and the water source filled with dirt. While we sit comfortably in our offices, bemoaning the fact that we haven’t been able to upgrade the computer for a few years… On the other side of the world, women and children are sifting through computer junk yards.

Discarded computers from places like Canada are piled high, and they are carefully going through the wreckage, searching for usable pieces, any metal that can be melted down to make other things, anything at all that could be valuable. The fat sheep of North America have taken what we needed, and the junk has been passed on to the thin sheep of the 2/3 world. A pile of rusty old computers to sift through, and mercury leaking into their water and food supply as a result.

If there are fat sheep and thin sheep in God’s flock, it’s pretty clear that we are the fat ones. We are the ones in danger of God’s harsh judgement. For “I will judge between sheep and sheep” says the Lord.

I’ve passed that old man so many times now – the one who sits on the ground outside the grocery store, except when it’s raining. I don’t know where he goes when it’s raining. He’s been told off by the management for offering to push people’s shopping carts back from the parking lot, and for accepting their 25cent deposit as a reward.

So now he just sits. He doesn’t even say much to the people rushing in and out of the store. His clothes are dirty and worn, and he’s rubbing his hands together to try to get the blood moving again. How did he get there? Well, he got sick and his wife left him because his mental illness was too much for her, and then he lost his job, and then he lost his house, and no one was there to take care of him and help him get well again.

Then he couldn’t get a disability cheque, because he didn’t have an address. And now, here he sits, on the damp pavement, face towards the ground, a skinny wretch of a sheep, while the fat sheep wheel their heaping carts past him to the parking lot.

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me to lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.

God is our shepherd who provides for all our needs. And yet, Ezekiel’s vision shows our God with a shepherd crook in one hand and a judge’s gavel in the other.

One of my first memories of going to the movies was when we went to see “Return of the Jedi.” I think it must have been a P.D. day, because we didn’t have school, and we went to a matinee at one of the theatres downtown, only about a 20 minute walk from our house. It was an exciting adventure. Mum was taking all four of us to see the movie, and she even said we could get some popcorn to share.

I think the trouble began early on when we complained about the walk to the theatre and began to bicker about who was walking next to who. When we arrived, we picked at each other in the line for the tickets, we argued about how big the bag of popcorn should be. We fought over who sat next to mum, and poked at each other during the movie.

Although I can’t remember the details, I imagine that my little brother got the worst of my bullying, and my older sister scoffed at how annoying we all were. Even as we left the movie theatre, we could not leave each other alone, going on and on until my mother could not contain her anger any longer.

“You ungrateful wretches!” she might have cried. “Look at what I did for you. I took you out. I paid for a movie. I bought you popcorn. And all you can do is fight each other. You embarrass me – the whole lot of you! I might as well leave you all right here!”

We were stunned and horrified at this outburst. Right there on the busy sidewalk, our mother was yelling at us, judging us, accusing us. I remember crying as we followed our mother and my siblings were crying too. I felt guilty. I felt awful that I had hurt her so much, and even worse that my disgraceful behaviour had been so openly acknowledged.

When we got home, my mother made supper for us all, and then we knew that everything was okay again. We were not abandoned by my mother on the street corner, nor would she ever leave us.

God’s judgement of our actions and our inaction may make us feel just like that. Like a child standing on a street corner balling her eyes out. There’s no taking back what you did. There’s no fixing the hurt that you caused. You’re suddenly faced with the reality of your sinfulness, and there’s nowhere to hide. You’re naked before God, and God is holding up a mirror so you can see for yourself too.

But just as God makes us face up to our sin, God also provides for us in our weakness. “I will set up over them one shepherd, my servant David,” says the Lord, “And he shall feed them: he shall feed them and be their shepherd. And I, the Lord, will be their God…” Even after God judges between the fat sheep and the lean sheep. Even after God pronounces judgement upon the fat sheep that pushed and butted at the weak sheep. Even then, God is the shepherd of the whole flock.

Just like the mother who took all her children home and made supper for them. God will feed us too, and God will set up one shepherd over us, one leader in the line of King David. Not a false shepherd, but a good shepherd who will lead us in God’s way, who will show us how to live, who will protect us from the wild animals, and gather us together when we wander. Jesus is our good shepherd – our leader – our guide.

Today, on Reign of Christ Sunday, we also celebrate the fact that Christ is our King… “raised from the dead, and seated at the right hand of God in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the age to come.”

Today we celebrate the fact that Christ is our King – our leader – the one who gives us our orders – the one who shows us the way. Christ is our King. Or at least, Christ can be our king if we will let him – if we will follow him.

When our shepherd king comes, may he find us at his side and say to us… “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me… for just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” Amen.

“For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.” It’s a hard saying from Jesus. It’s strange, and jarring, and it seems counter to everything we know about our loving God and our compassionate Christ. “As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” This is the master’s response to the slave who received a gift, (just a small gift), and did nothing with it. He tried to hold on to it. He buried it in the ground. And after that, he wouldn’t be receiving any more gifts from the master.

It reminds me of a story that I read recently: A man went each day to his back yard and uncovered his money, which was buried in the ground. He would then put it back in the ground and cover it up again. To his shock and disappointment, on a particular day he dug up the ground only to discover his money was gone!  He began to cry out in dismay. His neighbour heard his cry and came to his aid right away. Upon discovering his plight, the neighbour dropped his head, walked away and said, “What’s all the fuss about? You weren’t using the money for any good anyway! Maybe whoever got it will use it for some good.”

The parable of the talents is an interesting one because it’s about money, but it’s also about more than money. A talent, in biblical times, was a fairly large amount of money. It was approximately how much an average labourer could earn in about a year. It was way more than most of Jesus’ listeners could imagine ever having at one time.

It was an amazing gift, and an amazing opportunity that those slaves received from their master. And they had a choice to make about what to do with it. They could take it, and guard it, and keep it until the master returned, and then give it back. Or they could risk it, invest it, use it, and possibly multiply it. They could be bold and brave and give it a try. Or they could be fearful and play it safe, and bury it in the ground.

Now, I’m pretty sure that Jesus was not trying to give his listeners financial investment advice. If that was his point, he would have been promoting some pretty high-risk investments, and I don’t think that was what he was talking about.

At this point, we could, as interpreters of the parable, stop thinking of the talents as actual money. We could switch over, as we so often do when we’re reading this parable, and start thinking of the talents as talents – the things that we’re good at, the gifts that we have been given – our abilities to sing, or dance, or do math, or give leadership, or listen, or pray.

Some of us have many talents and abilities, and others have just a few. And Jesus seems to be telling us that we should put our talents to good use. We shouldn’t hide them, or ignore them, or bury them in the ground. We are gifted for a reason, and we are meant to use our gifts for God’s glory and God’s purposes in the world.

It makes sense to me that God multiplies the gifts that we put to use. When I sing in the choir every week, my voice gets stronger, my range gets wider, and my ability to read the music and make my voice do what it says gets better. When I take up invitations to write, or to preach, or to teach, the practice helps me to improve those skills as well. And the same is likely true for you when you use your talents – whether you are baking or knitting, administering or counselling, teaching, or leading, or mending, or praying. When you use your talents, those talents are multiplied.

But just for a moment longer, let’s stay with the idea that the talents Jesus is talking about refers to actual money. And he is telling us, not to invest our money in the stock market, but to make use of it in the risky business of doing Christ’s ministry in the world.

I don’t know about you, but I’m not always sure that when I give my money to a church, or to a mission project, or to a particular ministry of the church that it’s going to work. I mean, I’m confident that the money’s going to get used for something, but sometimes I wonder if it’s going to make a difference.

Maybe I give money to support the youth group to go to a Canada Youth conference, and I wonder, “Are they going to experience God in Christ through that event? Are they going to grow in faith? Is it going to make a difference in their lives?”

Maybe I give money to the Good Food Junction store at Station 20 West, and I wonder, “Is the store going to make a difference in the core neighbourhoods? Are people going to eat more healthful foods? Are the lives of mothers and children going to be impacted for the better? Will it be a concrete expression of God’s love in a neighbourhood that is struggling?”

Maybe I give money to the ministry here at St. Andrew’s, and I wonder, “Is this church making a difference in people’s lives? Are they experiencing the presence of God in this place? Are they hearing and responding to the Gospel through the church’s ministry? Are their lives being transformed for the better as they become disciples of Jesus and members of the household of God? And how are the people, in turn, reaching out to transform the community and the world?”

Giving our money to the church’s ministry is risky business. And spending the church’s money on ministry and mission, instead of tucking it away in mountains of investments, is risky business too. Will it be multiplied in new members and more offerings? Maybe, maybe not. But I am very confident that it will be multiplied in the impact that it will have on the world.

“St. Andrew’s exists to proclaim the Gospel and share the love of God in our church and our community.”  That’s our mission statement. And both our offerings and our time and talent are needed to fulfil the mission that we have from God.

Though I do think that Jesus’ parable was about money, I also believe that it’s about more than money. At its core, the parable is about the amazing gifts that we receive from God and what we decide to do with those gifts. It’s about money, and it’s about time, and it’s about talent, and it’s about resources. It’s about life itself, received as a gift from God, and spent – despite the risks – for God’s glory and God’s purposes.

The Apostle Paul, writing to the Christian church at Colossae, prayed for his Christian friends: “May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from God’s glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully giving thanks to God, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light.”

We talk about our stewardship being a response to the gifts we have been given by God. This passage speaks of sharing the inheritance of the saints. The Greek word for inheritance used in this passage, “kleros,” is the same word that is used in the gospels for lots, as when the soldiers cast lots for Jesus’ garments.

The inheritance that we have, then, is not something that we deserve, as families sometimes believe when the will is read – “This is our due,” but rather it is like winning the lottery. It is a windfall, a gift we did nothing to deserve.

It is God who qualifies us for our inheritance, not we ourselves. This inheritance can change the future, depending on whether we hoard or spend the inheritance and whether we spend it for ourselves or for the glory of God.

I would like to end this morning by sharing a story from the author, Robert Fulghum. Fulghum was attending an institute in Greece on healing the wounds of war. The speaker was Dr. Alexander Papaderos, a doctor of philosophy, a teacher and politician.

At the last session on the last morning of a two-week seminar on Greek culture, led by intellectuals and experts in their fields who were recruited by Papaderos from across Greece, Papaderos rose from his chair at the back of the room and walked to the front, where he stood in the bright Greek sunlight of an open window and looked out.

He turned. And made the ritual gesture: “Are there any questions?”

Quiet quilted the room. These two weeks had generated enough questions for a lifetime, but for now there was only silence.

“No questions?” Papaderos swept the room with his eyes.

So. I asked.

“Dr. Papaderos, what is the meaning of life?”

The usual laughter followed, and people stirred to go.

Papaderos held up his hand and stilled the room and looked at me for a long time, asking with his eyes if I was serious and seeing from my eyes that I was.

“I will answer your question.”

Taking his wallet out of his hip pocket, he fished into a leather billfold and brought out a very small round mirror, about the size of a quarter.

And what he said went like this:

“When I was a small child, during the war, we were very poor and we lived in a remote village. One day, on the road, I found the broken pieces of a mirror. A German motorcycle had been wrecked in that place.

“I tried to find all the pieces and put them together, but it was not possible, so I kept only the largest piece. This one. And by scratching it on a stone I made it round. I began to play with it as a toy and became fascinated by the fact that I could reflect light into dark places where the sun would never shine — in deep holes and crevices and dark closets. It became a game for me to get light into the most inaccessible places I could find.

“I kept the little mirror, and as I went about my growing up, I would take it out in idle moments and continue the challenge of the game. As I became a man, I grew to understand that this was not just a child’s game but a metaphor for what I might do with my life. I came to understand that I am not the light or the source of light. But light — truth, understanding, knowledge — is there, and it will only shine in many dark places if I reflect it.

“I am a fragment of a mirror whose whole design and shape I do not know. Nevertheless, with what I have I can reflect light into the dark places of this world — into the black places in the hearts of men — and change some things in some people. Perhaps others may see and do likewise. This is what I am about. This is the meaning of my life.”

And then he took his small mirror and, holding it carefully, caught the bright rays of daylight streaming through the window and reflected them onto my face and onto my hands folded on the desk.

Let us give thanks today, for the light of Christ that God has shined into the darkness of the world and into the darkness of our lives. May our lives too, become like fragments of a mirror – not simply receiving that light for ourselves – but reflecting it in our church and in our community. May God give us the courage to use, to risk, and to multiply the gifts that we have been given. Amen.

The Session is asking everyone at St. Andrew’s to refrain from using perfumes and other fragrances on Sunday mornings. Let’s go “fragrance free” so that everyone can breathe easily as we gather together to worship God.

Recently I heard a preacher suggest that Christianity is unique in that it demands that you make a choice. You consider the life, ministry, death, and resurrection of Jesus that you read about in the Gospels, and you decide what to make of it. You decide how to respond.

At some point, you have to make a choice about what to believe about Jesus. Either he was somehow the God of the universe made physically present in our world – reaching out, loving, forgiving, and reconciling the world – or he was a crazy person – living an itinerant life of poverty and getting himself killed. We have to choose what to believe as well as how to live in response to those convictions.

The book of Joshua tells the story of the Hebrew People entering the land promised by God and settling there. It’s the story of God’s chosen people – the ones who once lived as slaves in Egypt, who cried out to God to help them, and who followed Moses out of Egypt, across the Red Sea, and through the wilderness for forty years.

These are God’s own people, who have finally been freed both from oppression and from their wandering. They finally have a home – a place where they are no longer the ones being oppressed – and they have a choice to make.

It’s not that they hadn’t made this choice before. They had chosen to cry out. They had chosen to follow. They had chosen to rely on God’s help along their journey. But perhaps those choices were simpler to make – almost as if they didn’t really have any other options. Well, some of them had tried to worship a golden calf at one point, but their foolishness was quickly revealed, and they turned again to worship the one true God, the only one who could actually help and protect them.

But now, as they made their homes in the new land of plenty, Joshua reminded them that they had a choice to make. He reminded them about what God had done for their ancestors and for them, and he called them to declare their allegiance. He challenged them to make a choice: “Choose this day whom you will serve.” And he announced his own choice too: “As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.”

I wonder if you have ever made a choice like that. Can you remember a time when you declared your faith and your intention to follow Jesus with your life?

Perhaps it was here in this church that you stood up to profess your faith for the first time or for the hundredth time. Or perhaps it was in an outdoor chapel at camp, or in the midst of a deep conversation with a friend. Maybe it was in a hospital room, or during a long walk along the river. You might remember choosing God after a period of thoughtful prayer, or you might have mad that choice in the midst of a crisis.

I wonder… did someone challenge you to make that choice? And did that person ever point out the fact that it is a choice? In other words, we actually need to choose between several options. Our faith is not just an “add on” – an extra thing that we get to do on top of all the usual things that are part of life.

When Joshua asked the people if they wanted to serve God, they said, “Yes, of course!” They remembered how God had been with their ancestors and helped them. They remembered how God had led them and guided them into the Promised Land, and they were grateful. “Yes, of course, we will serve the Lord.”

But instead of simply agreeing and congratulating them for their choice, Joshua said, “Are you sure? I’m not convinced that you can do it.” “You cannot serve the Lord, for he is a holy God,” Joshua warned them. “He is a jealous God” and “he will not forgive your transgressions or your sins. If you forsake the Lord and serve foreign gods, then he will consume you, after having done you good.”

In other words, this choice that we are asked to make is not just to come to church and worship on Sundays. It’s not just an extra thing that we devote some of our time and attention to. But it’s a choice that requires us to leave some other things behind. It requires us to stop worshipping the god of money and the god of things. It challenges us to put aside the gods of personal comfort and pleasure. We have to give up the gods of power and prestige, popularity and fashion.

The choice we are asked to make is no small thing. “Choose this day whom you will serve,” Joshua said. You can serve the one true God of the universe who made you and who loves you. Or you can serve yourself – you can serve all those false gods that claim they will make you happy. You can’t serve both. You have to choose.

In our Christian tradition, when individuals make the decision to profess their faith and to serve and follow God, they make several vows or promises. We promise not only to serve God and to follow the way of Jesus, but we promise to turn away from hatred, selfishness, and all that is contrary to God’s ways.

It’s the same thing that the people of Israel decided to do, even when Joshua challenged their commitment. They said, “No, we will serve the Lord!” And they agreed to put away the foreign gods that were among them, and to incline their hearts to the Lord, the God of Israel. They promised to do it. They made a covenant, and vowed to live by it.

Like many of you, I made those promises once too. As a teenager, I professed my faith and I was baptized. I promised to turn away from evil and towards God. And I can’t count the number of times that I have renewed those promises in church, in my own personal prayers, during spiritual retreats, and in moments of crisis and stress.

But if I’m honest, I’ll also acknowledge that I’ve let the false gods creep into my life as well. I’ve been vain and self-serving. I’ve craved attention and recognition. I’ve let impatience, bitterness, and pride direct my interactions, and failed to demonstrate the forgiveness and love of Jesus to my neighbours.

Like a foolish bridesmaid, who was initially excited about the wedding banquet, I haven’t always followed through and fulfilled my promises. I’ve let my lamp go out. I haven’t always been there to do my part in preparing the world for the coming Reign of God.

Jesus’ parable is a warning for those who want to join in the great celebration when the Kingdom of God is made complete. Now is the time to be working towards it, to be preparing for it, to be leading others to it.

Now is the time for us to choose whom we will serve, and to do our best to follow through on those choices. Will our choices each day contribute to the building of the Kingdom? Will they help to set the table for the great celebration, or lead others through the darkness towards the great feast where there is no more hatred or war or oppression or fear?

I know… it’s a lot to ask. It’s a lot to live up to, and we are probably right if we predict that we’ll mess up again, even after we renew our promises. But although our God is a jealous god, demanding our allegiance and our faithfulness, we have seen in Jesus Christ the amazing capacity of our God to forgive. It is never too late for us to put aside those false gods and to choose to serve the one God of the universe who made us and who loves us.

Let’s begin again today to fill our lamps and to prepare for the celebration. The Reign of God is coming. It is almost here.

In many churches, including Presbyterian ones, the last Sunday in October is designated as “Reformation Sunday.” As Presbyterians, we are part of a Christian tradition or a family of churches that is called “Reformed.” And although we don’t celebrate Reformation Sunday every year, we have the opportunity on this Sunday to remember and give thanks for the Reformed tradition of which we are a part.

I suppose that a good place to start on Reformation Sunday would be with a few definitions of terms. My apologies to those of you who may have grown up in a Presbyterian Church and heard this stuff about a million times already.

First of all, there is the word “Presbyterian” – the Christian denomination of which we are a part. The word “Presbyterian” doesn’t describe our theology or our beliefs as a church, but it describes the way our church is structured and how we make decisions.

“Presbyterian” comes from a Greek word “presbyter” which means “elder.” Presbyterian churches are ruled by elders who come together in the courts of the church. These courts are called sessions at the local, congregational level, presbyteries that oversee a number of congregations and ministers in a geographic area, synods that cover larger areas, and General Assemblies for whole countries.

This Presbyterian type of church structure was a significant reformation from a structure that included rule by bishops. So significant, I suppose, that it came to be the actual name of our denomination. Whereas Pentecostals and Baptists are named for their theological emphases, Lutherans and Mennonites are named for the theological leaders who led them, and Anglicans are named for their country of origin, we Presbyterians are named for our church structure. So, if someone asks you what makes a church Presbyterian, you might say, “We are ruled by elders.”

Presbyterians do belong to a larger family of Christian denominations that are sometimes called “Reformed.” “Reformed” is a term that emerged during the time of the Protestant Reformation in Europe during the 16^th century.

Prior to the Reformation, the Roman Catholic Church and the Eastern Orthodox Church (which had divided from each other in 1054) were the major Christian bodies. In 1517, a monk named Martin Luther began a movement that questioned his own church’s position on a number of theological issues.

What Luther really wanted to do was to reform the church from within, but that didn’t work out too well. Instead, he and other Protestant Reformers ended up being separated from their church as they began new movements and churches that reflected their theological concerns and emphases. Luther’s followers, for example, eventually came to be known as Lutherans.

Other reformers agreed with Luther’s criticisms of the Roman Church, but also began to differ with him on some items of biblical interpretation. Theologians such as Huldrych Zwingli, John Calvin, and Heinrich Bullinger became leaders of this movement, which became known as the Reformed tradition. The term “Reformed” apparently came from a comment by Queen Elizabeth I in England that the followers of Zwingli and Calvin in England were more “reformed” than the Lutherans, in that they wanted a more thoroughgoing reform of worship practices based on their understanding of the bible.

The Reformation theologians made huge contributions to our church’s theology and practice that are still evident today – things like the doctrine of justification by faith alone, that there is nothing we can do to earn God’s favour. Or the emphasis on the bible being for all Christians to read, and study, and interpret for ourselves. Biblical interpretation is no longer reserved to a small group of educated clergy.

Issues like these divided the Christian Church in the 16^th century. But today many churches have found agreement on most of the issues that once divided us. We’ve all gone through reformations over the centuries. And though there are still issues that divide us, we are recognizing what we hold in common more and more.

In “Living Faith,” our Presbyterian church’s statement of Christian belief, we are reminded: “The church is in constant need of reform because of the failure and sin which mark its life in every age.”  The Roman Church in 1517 needed reform, as did the Reformed churches in 1650. And all our many and varied churches today, and indeed the Christian Church as a whole, is far from perfect and needs to be continually reformed according to the Word of God.

If there is one principle that we should remember on Reformation Sunday, it’s that God is not finished with us yet. One of the basic tenets of the Protestant Reformation was expressed in the Latin phrased “Ecclesia semper reformanda est,” meaning “the church must always be reforming.” It refers to the conviction that the church must continually re-examine itself to maintain its purity of doctrine and practice.

If, at any point in our life together as a church, we start to think and act like we have everything figured out and we’re doing everything right, that’s when we’ll be in trouble. That’s when we’ll ruin any chance of being reconciled with our Christian neighbours. That’s when we’ll get so focussed on being right that we’ll forget about being kind or loving. That’s when we’ll start to turn into the hypocrites that many people outside the church already think we are. And I think that’s what Jesus was talking about in today’s Gospel text.

I don’t think it’s that the scribes and Pharisees of Jesus’ time were so terribly awful. Most of them were probably very well-intentioned and very faithful people. It’s just that they had become over-confident in their ability to follow God’s commandments and to please God through their religious practices and rituals. They had everything figured out, and their goals were to impart their religious knowledge to others, and to hold others to account for their inability to live according to all the many rules and commandments that had become their faith. These were the teachers – the leaders in the religious community – and they were seriously lacking in humility.

I have a friend, a retired priest here in Saskatoon, who – whenever I have done something well – tells me quietly, “Stay humble.” Father Bernard has said this to me numerous times after hearing me preach, or lead worship, or speak at a workshop. And I’ve heard him say the same thing to others who have done something well.

And I’ve always interpreted “stay humble” as a subtle compliment, which it probably is. But “stay humble” is also a warning. It’s a warning to remember that everything we know, and everything we understand, and everything we can do for God is because of God’s grace and goodness and God’s Spirit at work within us. It’s a warning not to raise ourselves up above others within the church or outside of it, as if our knowledge or our background or our role in the church makes us somehow worth more than others around us.

No matter how well the Pharisees may have done at following the details of God’s laws, if they raised themselves up and lorded it over others, if they did good things only to be SEEN to be doing good things, if they did not love their neighbours as they loved themselves, then they were missing the point. And Jesus would humble them. And Jesus will humble us.

One of the things that Jesus says in today’s Gospel is that we shouldn’t call anyone “teacher” because we have only one teacher who is God. And we shouldn’t call anyone “father” because we have only one father – the one in heaven. Now, it seems to me that none of the churches follow this instruction literally. Presbyterian ministers are also called “teaching elders” to emphasize our particular call to preach and to teach within the church, and Catholic priests are often called “father” as a way of acknowledging their authority and responsibility in the community of the church.

But in fact, even the apostle Paul soon contradicted Jesus’ instruction not to call anyone “father.” In today’s reading from his letter to the Thessalonians, he refers to himself as a father to their Christian community. He writes that he “dealt with each one of [them] like a father with his children, urging and encouraging [them] and pleading that [they] lead a life worthy of God, who calls [them] into his own kingdom and glory.”

But this is not the image of an authoritarian father figure who lays down the law and demands obedience. Neither does Paul describe himself as a teacher who knows it all and makes his students suffer if they don’t measure up or understand everything right away.

I don’t think that Jesus’ point was that we shouldn’t be teachers or fathers or mothers to one another. In fact, Jesus sent out his earliest followers with instructions to preach, to teach, and to heal in his name. But when we do become teachers, the Gospel reminds us that we need to stay humble so that we can continue to learn and not turn into hypocrites.

One of the things that I am appreciating about our newest staff member here at St. Andrew’s is her desire to learn. As you know, the church has hired Laura Van Loon to serve as our Pastoral Care Nurse, and we are all learning together what this new ministry is going to look like.

Laura is a very knowledgeable and experienced registered nurse with wonderful skills and the gifts of compassion and care. (Laura: Stay humble.) But working as a Pastoral Care Nurse within a congregation is a new challenge – providing spiritual care, and integrating health and wholeness in body, mind, and spirit. And Laura is just soaking up all that she can possibly learn – in the Parish Nursing Education Program, in Bible Study, and in her work with the Pastoral Care Committee. With that kind of attitude to learning and growing in faith and knowledge, I have no doubt that God will bless her ministry among us. As Jesus said, “all who humble themselves will be exalted.”

Like so many of you, I love this Presbyterian Church of ours and the reformation principles that have shaped our theology and practice. And so, on this Reformation Sunday, I pray – May God keep us humble, both as individuals and as a church, so that we may be reformed and always reforming according the Word of God. Amen.

Newcomers to St. Andrew’s are especially encouraged to attend, to hear about our church and some of the ways you can get involved in our programs and groups, as well as to get your photo taken for our photo display board.

Church Membership Classes – Begin this Sunday, Oct. 30th:
St. Andrew’s has been happy to welcome many new people into our worshipping community over the last several months. We are so glad to have you with us! Several people have been asking about how they can become members of the church, and so it is time to offer a membership class.

Participating in the class will give you the opportunity to learn about the Presbyterian Church in Canada, what we believe, and how we live out our faith together in Christian community. It will also give you an opportunity to learn about St. Andrew’s and some of the ways that you can become more involved in our church family.

You are welcome to join the class if you are thinking of becoming a member of the church, if you are already a member and want to brush up on the basics, or if you just want to explore a bit and have an opportunity to ask some questions. Everyone from grade 9 to age 99 is welcome!

The class will be on Sundays after church (12:30-2:00 pm) starting next today with a potluck lunch and continuing for three more weeks (Nov. 6th, 13th & 20th). Please phone or email the church office to let Rev. Amanda know that you would like to participate.

Psalm 90 is the only psalm in the bible that is attributed to Moses. Many of the psalms are attributed to King David, the harp-playing songwriter. Others have no attribution and their authors remain a mystery.

But the tradition is that Psalm 90 came from Moses, and it’s not hard to imagine him composing this poem near the end of his long and eventful life – near the end of his 40-year journey leading God’s people through the wilderness towards the Promised Land that God had prepared for them.

“Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations,” Moses’ prayer begins. A couple of generations had already gone by while Moses and the Hebrew People were wandering in the wilderness, and God had been with them along the way – providing food when they were hungry, providing water when they were thirsty, and giving direction for their lives in relationship with each other.

And even before the Exodus from Egypt, God had been their God. God had called and directed Abraham and Sarah. God had blessed and helped Isaac and Rebekah. God had raised up Jacob and guarded Joseph, and been present to hear the cries of the Hebrew People when they became enslaved by the Egyptians.

Moses’ psalm celebrates the God of wisdom and compassion who had been their dwelling place in all generations, who had existed from the beginning, and would continue forever and ever.

And then Moses acknowledges that we humans are nothing compared to this God. While God “was, and is, and is to come,” our lives are comparatively temporary. They seem fleeting… they seem so brief compared to the vastness of God. Moses talks about the fact that God “turns us back to dust,” and our lives are swept away like a dream, or like grass that fades and withers in the evening.

At the age of 118 or thereabouts, we might expect Moses to feel grateful for his long life, and pleased with all the things that he was able to accomplish. But at least in this moment, Moses doesn’t seem to be feeling very good about the end of his life that is coming.

It sounds to me like he has some doubts as to whether his life held meaning – whether his years made a difference. He writes, “The days of our life are seventy years, or perhaps eighty, if we are strong; even their span is only toil and trouble; they are soon gone, and we fly away.”

I wonder… if, for some reason, your life were to come to an end today, would you feel like Moses did? Would you think, “Oh… it wasn’t enough time! It went by too quickly!” Would you have some regrets about how you spent your brief span of life? Would you do it differently if you could do it again?

I was talking to a friend the other day who has to write a paper for a religious studies class that she’s taking, and the topic of her paper is tombstones. And so we got talking about the meaning and significance of tombstones, cemetery markers, columbariums, and practices around scattering the ashes of our loved ones.

And during the conversation, someone brought up the dates that are normally engraved on the stone. She said, “There’s a birth date, and then there’s a death date. And those dates are obviously pretty important to the person and to their loved ones. But the only thing that really matters is the DASH.” The DASH that separates our birth date from our death date… the DASH that is our life… the days, months, and years, however many or few they may be.

“So teach us to count our days,” Moses prays, “that we may gain a wise heart.”

This weekend our congregation is saddened by the death of one of our long-time members. Ron Bremner has been an active member of St. Andrew’s since 1956 and he served as a ruling elder for the last approximately 53 years. Ron was relatively healthy and active until just a few months ago. But his health deteriorated rapidly over the last few months, and he spent the last several weeks in hospital.

In our recent conversations, it was clear that he was preparing for his death. For example, he wrote his own obituary just a few weeks ago. And he was talking about a memorial service and possible hymns to include, and that sort of thing. Not that Ron had given up on life. He was still hoping to recover. But he was preparing for what he knew would ultimately happen, whether sooner or later.

One of the things that Ron wanted to talk to me about a few weeks ago was the Session Benevolence Fund at St. Andrew’s. Ron was the treasurer for the Session Fund for over 30 years – since it was set up, I believe.

If you don’t know about the Session Fund, it’s a discretionary fund that can be used by the minister to help when members of the church or people in the community have an urgent financial need. We use it regularly to provide food for people who are hungry, and it is often a very practical expression of God’s grace and love when people are struggling with the circumstances of life.

Members of the congregation can make donations to the Session Fund at any time by designating an offering for that purpose. And I would certainly encourage you to do that because the need is great. But the time of year when we receive the most income to the Session Fund is at Christmas.

Every year (for I don’t know how many years) the entire Christmas Eve offering has been directed to the Session Fund. And every year (for I don’t know how many years) Ron Bremner, the Session Fund treasurer, has taken responsibility for receiving, counting, and depositing that offering. It has been a Christmas Eve tradition for Ron that he has always taken so seriously and done with such diligence. And Ron wanted to talk to me about the Session Fund because he wanted to make sure that someone would take up his responsibility and take care of those precious, precious offerings.

When Ron died this weekend, I couldn’t help but make the comparison in my mind to the death of Moses that we read about this morning from Deuteronomy. Both men had faithfully served God throughout their long lives. And both men likely felt like it was too soon for life to end – that there was more that they would have wanted to do, to accomplish, and to be a part of.

Moses, of course, went up on Mount Nebo just before he died, and looked out over the land. The Lord showed him “Gilead as far as Dan, all of Naphtali, the land of Ephraim and Manasseh, and all the land of Judah, as far as the Western Sea, the Negeb, and the Plain – that is, the valley of Jericho, the city of palm trees – as far as Zoar.” God’s people would go on to inhabit that land, but Moses would not be with them. He would die on that mountain and be buried there, while the rest of God’s people would go on with the leadership of Joshua.

I wonder what that must have felt like. Was he totally devastated by that news, or did he take it in stride? Did he want to cling to life just a little bit longer so that his mission could be completed? Or was he able to let go, trusting that his mission was God’s mission, and that God would eventually make it happen.

One commentator on this psalm points out that Moses’ death before they entered the Promised Land is an important reminder. It’s a reminder that God, not Moses, would lead the people into the land. It’s a reminder that our time is not all there is to measure. God’s time is primary, and God’s time is from everlasting to everlasting.

The book of Deuteronomy eulogizes Moses with these words: “Never since has there arisen a prophet in Israel like Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face. He was unequaled for all the signs and wonders that the Lord sent him to perform in the land of Egypt, against Pharaoh… and for all the mighty deeds and all the terrifying displays of power that Moses performed in the sight of all Israel.”

When Moses died, the Israelites wept for him in the plains of Moab for thirty days. But then, when the period of mourning was over, they accepted the leadership of Joshua, and they continued their journey into the land promised by God.

Today, we pause to give thanks to God for the faithfulness, and love, and generosity, and wisdom that Ron brought into the world and into our church here at St. Andrew’s. And over the coming days, we will also shed some tears for Ron, and for the loss of his presence among us. But our lives together and our ministry in this place will continue with the help and direction of God.

I want to end this morning by drawing our attention to the final part of Moses’ prayer in Psalm 90. Moses writes: “Let the favour of the Lord our God be upon us, and prosper for us the work of our hands – O prosper the work of our hands!”

It’s a wonderful prayer in many ways… asking God to bless us and help us in our work, asking God to make the work we do accomplish something, asking God to make our efforts worth something. I think I could pray that prayer every day in my ministry. Maybe it would remind me that the ministry is not really mine, but it belongs to God.

But remember that this prayer is attributed to Moses, perhaps written near the very end of his life, as he prepared to let go of his great mission, and to trust God to finish the job. “Prosper the work of my hands,” Moses prayed. “Let all of this work I have done for you accomplish something good for your people. Please, God, let my life’s work make a difference.”

We give thanks today that God did prosper the work of Moses’ hands as he brought the people into that good land. And we pray that God will prosper the work of Ron Bremner’s hands through the Session Benevolence Fund and so many other ministries in the church and in the community. And we pray that God will prosper the work of all our hands, today, and tomorrow, and far into the future, that we may serve God’s good purposes faithfully and continue the mission of Jesus our Lord. Amen.

Tomorrow – October 17^th – has been designated as the “International Day for the Eradication of Poverty.” And here in our city, the Saskatoon Anti-Poverty Coalition is hosting its 8^th Annual “Poverty Awareness Week,” with special events being planned throughout the week to raise consciousness about poverty in our community, as well as to encourage those who live in poverty as they continue their daily struggle.

Last year was the first time (in my almost 8 years of living in Saskatoon) that I participated in the “Hands Across the Water” event during “Poverty Awareness Week.” “Hands Across the Water” is a kind of symbolic act. People gather at the bottom of the Broadway Bridge. Then we line up, and join hands as we walk up the bridge, with the goal of being able to reach to the other side.

We come together as people of all socio-economic levels, and we join hands to combat poverty, to reach across the troubled waters that so many people experience because of poverty. We recognize that poverty is an issue that affects us all – both the West side and East side of Saskatoon – and that together we can overcome it.

They told us last year that we managed to reach further than we had ever reached before, and there was lots of rejoicing and cars honking their horns as they drove by. But I was near the front of the line, and I would say that we reached a little more than half way up the bridge. We had a long way to go! And it kind of made me feel disappointed that we couldn’t reach further.

The crowd of people looked pretty big in the park beside the bridge, but as we tried to stretch out across the bridge, I realized that the bridge was much longer than our arms could reach, and we just weren’t enough people to reach across it.

Sometimes that’s exactly how we feel in our work to combat poverty. We give and we give, and it seems like the needs around us just keep growing and growing. There are people starving because of famines in Africa, and others starving because of low incomes and rising costs right here in our city. We write cheques for Presbyterian World Service and Development, and we donate bag after bag of food for the Food Bank, and it often seems that we hardly make a dent in the problem of poverty.

I think of Jesus and his ministry among the poor. I suppose he probably interacted with a few people of means, but most of those who came to him and followed him were relatively, or even extremely, poor.

Of course, Jesus was poor as well. He gave up his livelihood to go out on the road as a preacher and healer. And there was no stable congregation of people to provide him with a stipend and housing allowance, and supplies for his ministry.

When the crowds gathered, looking for healing and help, Jesus didn’t have the resources to provide for all their physical needs. Yes, there were some miracles along the way. But there were probably also many times when Jesus and his friends, not to mention the other poor people of Galilee, went to bed with empty stomachs and no prospects for breakfast.

In his preaching, Jesus encouraged the hungry and the poor who listened to him with a vision for a world to come in which they would be filled. I’m pretty sure that Jesus was not planning to host a supper right after the sermon, but he was encouraging the people to hang on and to have hope for the Kingdom of God that was on its way. “The Kingdom of God is near,” he told them, “and when it arrives the poor will be lifted up, and the hungry will be filled, and all will be well.”

Some people probably think that having an “International Day for the Eradication of Poverty” is a waste of time. And gathering with a bunch of people at the bottom of the Broadway Bridge, and trying together to reach across it may also sound like a waste of time. And whether or not we can get enough people together to reach across the bridge, we certainly can’t eradicate poverty. It’s just not possible.

I’ve heard people quote from the bible to make this point too. They remember the day that Mary of Bethany used up a whole pound of costly perfume by pouring it on Jesus’ feet and wiping them with her hair. Whether his intentions were honorable or not, Judas made a good point when he suggested that if the perfume had been sold, it could have gone a long way to help the poor. But Jesus said, “You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”

People read those words from Jesus, and they conclude that it’s going to be impossible to get rid of poverty. “We’ll always have the poor with us.” That’s what Jesus said. But we have to read the story of the anointing side-by-side with the proclamation of Jesus that the Kingdom of God was near. We have to read it, remembering how Jesus responded with compassion to the very real and overwhelming needs of the crowds that came to hear him. We have to remember the way he took time for them, to bless them and heal them. We have to remember the way he instructed his disciples to provide for the hungry crowds – “You give them something to eat,” he said.

Mary of Bethany made a choice that day to spend her money on perfume so that she could anoint her Lord Jesus before his death, just as Christians today spend money to build places of worship so that we can gather to praise and glorify our God in Jesus Christ. But while Judas tried to set up these priorities as opposed to one another, we are called both to worship God AND to care for the poor, the hungry, and the homeless in our community and throughout the world.

We could be out right now, gathering food for the Food Bank or planning our political advocacy strategy for the poor, or we could be sitting in a park “occupying Saskatoon.” But we are here at worship, being inspired and encouraged and challenged to keep up the work of building the Kingdom of God, including the eradication of poverty.

Lately it seems like every organization that I’m a part of is talking about having a vision and a mission. In our work at the Prairie Centre for Ecumenism, we’re talking about a vision of being One Church – One Body of Christ with many members. In our new Pastoral Care Nurse ministry, we’re talking about a vision of a church and community in which all people are healthy and whole in body, mind, and spirit, where everyone receives the care and support that they need. And just this week, our denomination – the Presbyterian Church in Canada – sent out an invitation for the people of the church to explore what our vision as a church should be… what vision God is calling us to work towards together.

The thing about visions is they’re big. They’re way beyond what we can see here and now. But they keep us moving and doing our mission because we know and trust that God will one day make those visions a reality, and we just keep moving towards them.

At times we may feel like a small group of people who gather together at the bottom of the Broadway Bridge, who join hands and walk together to reach across the water, and so far, we can only reach a little past the middle.

But God’s vision is that our group will grow, and we’ll make it all the way.

God’s vision is that poverty will be eradicated.

God’s vision is the one that Jesus came to tell us about, and to show us.
It’s a vision of the world as the very Kingdom of God, and it is near.

I did something a little unusual with the scripture readings this morning. As most of you know, we often follow the Revised Common Lectionary’s 3-year cycle of readings for Sundays. But today we had a choice of readings. (Look on the back of your bulletins… at the two sets of readings…) Today I could have chosen the readings for the 17^th Sunday after Pentecost, or I could have chosen the special readings for Thanksgiving Sunday.

But instead of choosing one set or the other, I mixed them up a little. I chose Philippians 4 from the 17^th Sunday after Pentecost, and matched it up with two of the readings for Thanksgiving – Deuteronomy 8 about being sure not to forget God when things are good, and Luke 17 about the ten lepers getting healed and the one who goes back to say thank you to Jesus.

The Deuteronomy reading makes a lot of sense for Thanksgiving Sunday. The message is: “When everything is wonderful in your life, when you’ve got everything you need, when you sit down to a wonderful meal of turkey and potatoes and vegetables and pie, surrounded by good friends and dear family, don’t forget about God…

“When the harvest is plentiful, when you move into a nice new home, when you get a promotion with a big raise, when your children get straight A’s, when you win an important award, when everything is going well in your life, don’t forget about God.”

I suppose that’s what the other nine former lepers were doing – forgetting about God. They were forgetting about Jesus – the one who had healed them and given them back their lives.

It didn’t take them long to forget, either. Just minutes before, they had been calling out to him for help in the street: “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” But once they were healed, most of them just kept going. They were anxious to get on with their lives, and they forgot about God. They forgot about Jesus who had healed them and given them back their lives.

The Thanksgiving Sunday scripture texts lead us towards a simple, but important activity for today and this weekend. We are invited to pause and consider the good things in our lives, and to give thanks and praise to God. Like the one healed man who turned back, we are encouraged to praise God this morning with a loud voice, and to come before Jesus and thank him.

But the Thanksgiving texts also seem to take it for granted that we have plenty of good things in our lives for which to be thankful. The author of Deuteronomy writes: “WHEN you have eaten your fill and have built fine houses and live in them, and WHEN your herds and flocks have multiplied, and your silver and gold is multiplied, and all that you have is multiplied, THEN do not exact yourself, forgetting the Lord your God…” The text seems to assume that our lives will be filled with blessings and abundance, and our one shortcoming will be that we neglect to give the glory to God by saying thank-you.

And although I wish that were the case, I happen to know that things are not so simple or straight-forward in most of our lives. Some of us won’t go home tonight to a thanksgiving table that is overflowing with food – either because money is tight, or because we don’t have a family with which to gather, or because we have to be at work, even on Thanksgiving Sunday.

Some of us won’t feel particularly thankful this weekend because of a loved one who is ill, or someone dear to us who has died. Some of us won’t join in the celebrations because we’re suffering from illness or pain ourselves. And some of us will be distracted by the troubles and stresses of our lives – by the job we just lost, by the relationship that is in need of repair, by the debts that are piling up, by the heavy demands of being a caregiver, or by the fact that we are worrying about a family member or friend who is struggling.

Yes, it’s Thanksgiving Sunday. The harvest in Saskatchewan has been great, and the weather is warm and beautiful, and we should be thankful on this special day!

But this week I felt very drawn towards the text from Philippians 4 – the text for the 17^th Sunday after Pentecost – the text that is not for a special celebration, but for ordinary time. What I really appreciated about this text was the fact that Paul is encouraging his readers to be thankful, but not necessarily because everything in their lives is going great.

And Paul knew what he was talking about. After all, Paul was in prison, facing a capital charge, when he wrote this letter. And that was not his only problem, for his responsibility for the churches was a constant concern. Even from prison he was trying to guide them, and help them, and to sort out their problems.

Moreover, the people to whom Paul was writing were unlikely to be living comfortable lives. Most of them were poor, many were slaves, and few of them would have known the meaning of security.

And to add to all the stresses and strains that would have come with being a Christian in first century Philippi, these Christians were also struggling with internal conflict. The apostle makes it clear that the disagreements between the Christian leaders – like the conflict between Euodia and Syntyche – must get worked out, and that the way to do that is for everyone to be of the same mind – the mind of Christ.

Now, we don’t know what these two Christian women were fighting about, but we can probably assume that like most conflicts, it would take a lot of patience, dedication, and time to work it out. In fact, Paul asked another person – someone that he referred to as his “loyal companion” to help them to work it out.

Very much like the conflicts that we may have experienced within church communities, this was a disagreement between two well-meaning and dedicated co-workers in the task of spreading the gospel. Paul urged these women to “be of the same mind” so that their good work could continue unhindered.

And then, from his jail cell, while he awaited potential execution, Paul wrote: “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

On this Thanksgiving Sunday, and on every Sunday, and on every day of the year, Paul invites us to rejoice. Don’t rejoice because you have a nice car, or because you’re looking forward to a great dinner tonight, or because you are smart, or talented, or fortunate. Paul says, “Rejoice IN THE LORD.” Rejoice because the LORD IS NEAR.

Now, the commentators do speculate about what he meant by “The Lord is near.” Some of them think he was talking about the second coming – the idea that Christ would soon return to earth and make everything new and right and good. The Lord is near in a temporal sense because Jesus will soon be back to sort out the problems of our world once and for all. And that’s certainly a wonderful thought when things in our lives here on earth are not going as smoothly or as well as we might hope.

But I think when Paul said, “The Lord is near,” he also might have been talking about the fact that God is spacially near to us. Even when life is hard and difficult, God has not abandoned us, but God is with us through the challenges. Like Psalm 145:8 says, “The Lord is near to all who call upon him.”

Paul did not want his Christian friends at Philippi to be overwhelmed by fears and worries – about him, about the church, or about their own lives. And so he said, “Do not worry about anything.” Of course, he didn’t mean that they should just ignore their problems or stop caring about the concerns of the church or the community around them. Paul said, “Do not worry,” but I sometimes think of it more like, “WHEN you worry” here’s what you need to do.

It’s probably a bit unrealistic for Paul or for a preacher today to simply say, “Do not worry.” But we can say, “WHEN you worry, here’s what you can do. Talk to God about it. Bring your troubles to the God who is near. Pray, and ask for what you need, and remember to give thanks as well. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

And then Paul gives some final instructions. He encourages his Christian friends, in the midst of all the challenges of their lives, to THINK GOOD THOUGHTS. He says, “Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”

It sounds like a strategy that people use all the time to cope with the difficulties of life. Maybe your husband has died, but you’re thinking about your beautiful grandchildren. Maybe you’ve lost your job, so you’re concentrating on the many talents and skills you have as you put together your resume. Maybe you’re not as successful as you once hoped you would be, or maybe your life hasn’t turned out quite the way you dreamed it would. But you’re thinking about the good things – about the things for which you are truly thankful.

One commentary I was reading pointed out that there is nothing particularly Christian about the qualities that Paul is encouraging us to think about. They are qualities that would be admired by anyone. And the writer wondered whether Paul might have borrowed the list from popular moral philosophy, and whether he might be making a deliberate attempt to show that Christianity is not incompatible with pagan or secular culture at its best. Perhaps.

But what we can be sure of is that Paul is claiming that anything and everything that is “excellent or praiseworthy” is divine in origin.

And so today, whether our lives are filled with celebration and gladness, or whether we are coping with hardship and challenge, we are nonetheless invited to think about these things – to think about the things that are true, honourable, just, pure, pleasing, commendable, excellent, and worthy of praise. And we are to give thanks and praise to God who is the source of all that is good.

Remembering that the Lord is near to hear us and to help us in all things, “Let us keep on doing the things that we have learned and received and heard and seen in [Paul, in other Christian leaders, and in Christ himself,] and the God of peace will be with us. Thanks be to God.

When the chief priests and the Pharisees heard his parables, they realized that he was speaking about them. I wonder if you have ever felt like that when you heard one of Jesus’ stories of parables. I wonder if you have ever read something in the scriptures and thought, “That was written for me!” Or if you have ever listened to a sermon, and wondered if the preacher was addressing you specifically.

Well, when the chief priests and the Pharisees heard Jesus’ parables, and when they realized that he was speaking about them, they weren’t very pleased. Though the crowds thought that Jesus was something special, the religious leaders had concluded that Jesus was a problem – telling stories that cast them in a negative role – and they wanted to arrest them.

You see, when the religious leaders of Jesus’ time heard today’s parable, they must have quickly figured out that it was an allegory. It wasn’t a story about an actual historical landowner who leased out his land to some bad tenants and had to deal with the consequences. It was an allegory – a made-up story in which the characters and plot lines represent actual people and things that are happening in the world.

Listen to the parable again, and consider… where might the religious leaders of Jesus’ day have seen themselves in Jesus’ parable?

There was a landowner who planted vineyard, put a fence around it, dug a wine press in it, and built a watchtower. Then he leased it to tenants and went to another country. When the harvest time had come, he sent his slaves to the tenants to collect his produce. But the tenants seized his slaves and beat one, killed another, and stoned another. Again he sent other slaves, more than the first; and they treated them in the same way. Finally he sent his son to them, saying, ‘They will respect my son.’

But when the tenants saw the son, they said to themselves, ‘This is the heir; come, let us kill him and get his inheritance.’ So they seized him, threw him out of the vineyard, and killed him. Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?” They said to him, “He will put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the harvest time.”

It goes almost without saying that the landowner in the parable is God. God is the one who is the Creator and Sustainer of all that is, who has leant us this land – this earth – on which to live and to make our home. So who are the tenants in the parable? Who are the bad tenants who do not share the harvest, and who beat and kill the servants and then the son of the landowner?

The chief priests and the Pharisees seem to think that Jesus is talking about them – that they are the bad tenants – the wretches that Jesus’ listeners concluded should get chucked out and put to a miserable death so that the land could be leased to other tenants would will give him the produce at the harvest time.

To a group of people in positions of power, Jesus’ parable may have sounded like a subversive attempt to undermine their authority. Without confronting the religious leaders directly, Jesus is making a bold statement about these leaders and their lack of goodness and faithfulness to God. God has been sending prophet after prophet after prophet for years, and the religious establishment of Israel has been ignoring (at best) and more often persecuting these servants of God.

But there were others there that day as well. There was likely a good-sized crowd gathered to hear the well-known teacher and story-teller. Some of them were Jesus’ disciples who had been travelling with him for quite some time. Others were there hoping that this man would do some healing miracles today. They had heard that he did that kind of thing sometimes. Some of the people were probably poor and hungry, and looking for some help. And some were the kind of people that others moved away from in the crowd – tax collectors, prostitutes, and other sinners.

Everything seemed to be turned upside down with this Jesus prophet. He was sticking it to the Pharisees and priests, and he was just welcoming the outcasts and sinners. And I wonder if they too saw themselves in the parable when Jesus told it.

Of course, they would have been used to seeing themselves as the bad tenants. After all, they had ignored God’s commandments and God’s call, and they were used to religious people telling them off, or tut-tutting at them, or generally excluding them from polite society. They wouldn’t be surprised to hear someone suggest that they had messed up and that God was going to punish them for it. That was probably something that they heard on a regular basis.

I wonder though, if some of the people in the crowd that day, might have had the gift of imagining themselves as the “other tenants.” Could they picture themselves as the tenants who hadn’t messed up yet, as the ones who still had the potential to be good tenants, enjoying the good land and the vineyard, and being proud to hand over the produce at the harvest time.

Maybe the disciples thought they could be “other tenants” – receiving the prophets and messengers from God with grace and hospitality, recognizing God’s very own son, and welcoming him with joy. People like Peter and Andrew, James and John hoped that they could live up to that calling, but it proved to be very difficult just a short time later, and they too ending up rejecting God’s son – denying him and running for their lives while he was killed.

I was thinking about our other scripture text this morning from Paul’s letter to the Philippian Christians, and I tried to imagine Paul reading or hearing this parable that Jesus had once told. After all, Paul was a Pharisee once, and he was a persecutor of the very earliest Christians. As he reflected on his life, I don’t think he would have had any trouble imagining himself as one of the bad tenants. Remember that voice that he heard on the road to Damascas? “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” Saul asked, “Who are you, Lord?” And the reply came, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.”

But in his conversion, Saul (who became Paul) somehow discovered that having been a bad tenant would not exclude him from seeing himself in a new role in the parable. He could move from having been a bad tenant who had messed up, and done wrong, and persecuted the servants of God, and he could become an “other tenant” just starting out with the potential to be good and faithful to God. He could move from a bad tenant to a new tenant because he believed in the mercy and grace of God.

In today’s letter, we heard Paul re-iterate the emphasis on God’s grace that is found throughout Paul’s writings. “[I do not have] a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but one that comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God based on faith.”

I imagine that Paul definitely could have seen himself as one of those new tenants, embarking on a new relationship with the landowner who is God, and working so hard to preach the Gospel far and wide and to produce a good harvest for God. But as I read this morning’s text from Philippians, I wondered whether Paul might have seen himself in another role in Jesus’ parable.

The usual assumption in interpreting this parable is that the slaves of the landowner are the prophets that God sent to the people of Israel, and the son of the landowner is Jesus, the son of God, who is rejected and killed by the bad tenants. But if we, as followers of Jesus, are supposed to become members of the body of Christ… if we are supposed to act as his hands and his feet and his voice in the world, following his ways, engaging in his mission, and doing his work in the world… then perhaps we might see ourselves in a different role.

I have a feeling that the apostle Paul wouldn’t have seen himself as a tenant at all. He would have placed himself in the role of a slave of the landowner, or even as one of the landowner’s very own children.

Paul wrote: “Whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ. More than that, I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him… I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead.”

Paul believed that his faith called him to much more than simply being a good tenant, simply receiving God and God’s servants and trying to be good and faithful. Paul believed that his faith called him to the risk-taking, self-giving way of Jesus – bringing the message of judgment and grace to God’s people, and enduring the rejection and suffering that so often comes along with that mission.

This morning I invite you to reflect on your own relationship with God. And I invite you to think about where you see yourself in Jesus’ parable today. Where you see yourself today may not be where you were yesterday, and you may be in a different place tomorrow. There is no right or wrong answer to the question.

As we gather around the Communion table this morning, we will remember Jesus’ death – the beloved son of the landowner who was rejected and killed. We will remember his sacrifice – his self-giving love – for us, whether we are bad tenants in need of his amazing grace, or whether we are new tenants who are striving with God’s help to live more faithful and righteous lives.

But as we receive the gift of this holy meal, we must also recognize ourselves as servants of the landowner and as daughters and sons who are called to be ambassadors for God – often walking into dangerous and volatile situations and accepting the risks that come with that.

Even as we receive the gift of Christ’s sacrifice for us, we are simultaneously called to become what we receive – to become Christ’s body in the world – to become the ones who are ready and willing to go where God sends us, and to give ourselves for others and for God’s loving purposes in the world. Amen.

The Christian Education Committee at St. Andrew’s is encouraging everyone to participate in the “Gems of Encouragement” program. Take some time to consider how you can be an encouragement to someone in your life this week.

You may feel called to say something or do something encouraging for a member of your family, for a colleague at work, for a friend at school, for a stranger that you meet, or for a sister or brother in Christ. Every time you say or do something encouraging, you are invited to place a gem stone in the glass jar at the front of the church. If you do many acts of encouragement during the week, keep track of them and place that number of gem stones in the glass jar when you come to church on Sunday.

We hope to fill up the glass jar with “Gems of Encouragement” by Thanksgiving Sunday (Oct. 9th). And then we’ll have a little contest to guess how many acts of encouragement have been completed.

“FIRE is the rapid oxidation of a material in the chemical process of combustion, releasing heat, light, and various reaction products.” I looked that up on Wikipedia, where it also says this about FIRE: “Fire in its most common form can result in conflagration, which has the potential to cause physical damage through burning.” That is, unless we’re talking about Moses’ burning bush where the bush was miraculously burning and burning, but not being consumed.

As you may have guessed by now, FIRE is the topic of my sermon this morning, just as FIRE was the theme of our Saskatchewan Presbyterian Youth event here this weekend. When we titled the weekend “Fire’s Burning, Draw Nearer,” we hoped that youth from across the province would come together this weekend – drawing near to one another (making new friends and renewing old friendships) and that they would draw near to God as well through worship, study, discussion, prayer, and music. With participants from Regina, Prince Albert, and Saskatoon, I think I can speak for the group when I say that we’ve had a wonderful time together.

Now, when I say that we’ve had a wonderful time together, I don’t mean to say that everything about the weekend went smoothly or as planned. For example, I was really excited about the idea that we were going to have a campfire on Friday night to get the theme of the weekend started. I brought a portable fireplace, matches, newspaper, kindling, and some wood, and some of the guys helped me to set it up in the parking lot.

Then we went back inside the church for a few opening activities. And while we were inside, it rained a little. Not too much, mind you. And it stopped raining in time for our fire, so we went out and got it lit. Well, we’d hardly begun to sing “Fire’s burning” when it started to rain again, sprinkling at first, but then harder and harder until we were all soaked. It was a pretty short campfire.

On Saturday we had more issues with fire… Well, not exactly fire, but smoke. I was upstairs doing something else before dinner when the fire alarms started to sound. No, the kitchen crew hadn’t set the church on fire (at least, not literally on fire) but some cheese from Laurie’s delicious lasagne had dripped onto the aluminum tray at the bottom of the oven and caused enough smoke to trigger the smoke detector just outside the kitchen. It took us a few minutes to get it sorted out, to turn off the alarm and make sure that the security company hadn’t already sent us a fire truck.

I guess when it comes to fire, things can be unpredictable. When we try to set fires, they don’t always take off as we would hope. And sometimes, when we just want to avoid a fire, fire seems to have a mind of its own. Perhaps that is why FIRE can be so fascinating. Because as much as we need fire  and we use fire for so many things like heating our homes and running our cars and cooking our dinner, FIRE still remains somewhat beyond our control – an unpredictable power that brings with it danger and risk.

And what we discovered here this weekend as we studied the scriptures together is that God is very much like fire. FIRE is a metaphor that is used over and over again throughout the bible to describe God’s activity in our lives. Let me give you a few examples starting with Moses and the burning bush.

Have you ever wondered about that story? What’s with the bush that’s burning, but not getting burned up? Moses is up on a mountain looking after the sheep, and God appears to him in a flame of fire out of a bush. Moses looks, and the bush is blazing, but not consumed. And Moses says, “Huh? That’s kind of weird! I totally have to stop and have a look at this burning bush! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

And the point is that God has gotten his attention. Moses would probably have been perfectly content to spend the rest of his life looking after sheep and staying out of politics and religion. But God had plans for Moses to lead the Hebrew People out of slavery in Egypt and into the Promised Land, and God needed to get Moses’ attention so God could tell him about the plan.

Even without the drama of an ever-burning bush, God is still working on getting our attention so that we too can hear God’s voice and make the decision to co-operate in God’s plan for us and for the world. I invite you to think right now about the ways that God has gotten your attention when God had something to say to you. Was it through a dream or a vision like Moses experienced? Or was it through the beauty of creation, or through the scriptures, or through a negative or a positive experience, or through the voice of a friend or a stranger? I wonder… how might God be trying to get our attention today? And are we ready to turn towards God and listen for what God might be telling us?

Once God had Moses’ attention, God spoke to Moses and Moses listened, and God gave him a rather big and important job. Unfortunately, Moses didn’t feel very worthy of the task. He responded, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” Most of the callings that we receive aren’t quite as big or daunting as the one that Moses received from God. Our callings may include things like spending the weekend sleeping in a church with a bunch of Presbyterian youth (like our chaperones did this weekend) or our calling may be to become an elder in the church (like Leslie and Laura and Elizabeth did last Sunday).

Our callings may include caring for people who are in need in our family or in our community – giving significant amounts of time and attention to ensure the safety of a family member, or perhaps even a stranger that comes across our path. Our callings may include taking on leadership roles in our workplaces or community organizations, and speaking up for justice and kindness towards those who are suffering.

When we receive our callings, we may feel very much like Moses did – unsure, hesitant, or even sceptical as to whether we’ll be able to handle it or not. And it’s a logical feeling because none of us are actually worthy of the missions that God sends us out on. We wouldn’t actually be able to accomplish them alone. But God tells us, as God told Moses, “I will be with you.”

Not only is God with us on the missions that we are given, but God is continually working on us. In the text that was read from the prophet Malachi this morning, we heard about God’s fiery activity in our lives. The prophet tells us that the Lord “is like a refiner’s fire… he will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the descendants of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, until they present offerings to the Lord in righteousness.”

We include a prayer of confession in our worship every week because we know that as humans we are unable to live up to God’s high standards or to follow God’s commandments perfectly. Even the commandment to love one another that is so simple to say, is not so simple to put into practice in all our relationships.

But God’s fire is not just about getting our attention, it’s also a refiner’s fire that is purifying our lives and helping us to become more and more like Christ. You know how a refiner’s fire works, right? It burns at such a high temperature that the impurities in the gold or silver are removed so that they become more and more purely gold or silver.

We often talk about how God accepts us “just as we are” and I certainly believe that. But that acceptance doesn’t mean that God wants us to stay “just as we are.” When we become followers of Jesus, God takes us as we are. But then, like a refiner’s fire, God works on us – judging us, correcting us, purifying our lives, and shaping us into the image of Christ.

God promised to be with Moses on his mission and on the long journey with the Israelites through the wilderness and into the Promised Land. Along the way, God led them with a pillar of cloud in the day and a pillar of fire in the night… and eventually, the one who was so unworthy managed to accomplish God’s plan because God was with him.

Our Christian faith invites us to remember that God is still acting like that pillar of fire in our lives – that we can look to God for guidance and direction… for help to make important decisions in our lives, and for assurance to know that we are never alone as we face the difficulties and trials of life.

In our final scripture text this morning, we heard about the fire of God’s Spirit on the first Pentecost after Jesus’ death and resurrection. Once again, God is acting like fire in this story. But the fire is neither to get our attention, to refine our lives, or to simply lead us through the difficulties of life. In this important account of the birth of the Christian Church, the Spirit of God is poured out on the disciples of Jesus and a tongue of fire rests on each one of them.

And the fire doesn’t just grab their attention or identify them as Christians. The fire in this case, is sending them out into the streets to preach the Gospel and tell the good news about Jesus Christ to all the people of the world in all the languages of the world. Like people rushing out of a burning building, the disciples get themselves out – but not because they are afraid of the flames, but because the Spirit of God has inspired them, and filled them, and equipped them to get out and share their faith.

That same fiery Spirit is flashing through the lives of God’s people today also. Once God has gotten our attention and begun the work of purifying our lives, then before we know it (and often before we feel very ready) the Spirit is sending is out to participate in God’s mission in the world.

Just like Moses was pretty scared to stand too close when God spoke to him from the burning bush, we may feel pretty tentative about drawing near to the fire of God. But hopefully, like him, we can have enough courage to stay close, to take off our shoes, and to recognize that we are standing on holy ground in the very presence of God. And no matter how unworthy we may think ourselves to be, and no matter how big and challenging the mission God has for us may be, God will be with us like FIRE – catching our attention, leading us on our journey, judging us, correcting us, and purifying our lives. God will be with us like FIRE – inspiring us, equipping us, and filling us with a passion for God’s purposes.

The fire of God is burning. Let us draw nearer. Amen.

• The session received many responses to the “Worship Time Survey” that was originally circulated in the May newsletter. Thank you for giving us your input on this important decision. Please know that we took all of your comments, needs, and preferences seriously as we made this decision. Worship at St. Andrew’s will continue to be at 11:00 am, and in future years we will not change the time during the summer months. It will be at 11:00 am year-round.