Monday, September 28, 2020

Looking Ahead to October 4, 2020- Proper 22A, Worldwide Communion Sunday

This week being the first Sunday of the month we will be celebrating the sacrament of Communion. Because it is the first Sunday of October it is also Worldwide Communion Sunday, a day to remind ourselves that we share in a global faith community.

The Scripture Readings this week are:

  • Exodus 20:1-18
  • Psalm 19:7-14

Hanging in the Friendship Room
 The Sermon title is Good Boundaries Keep Us Healthy!

Early Thoughts: Who likes rules? Often it appears that people only like rules when it suits them, when the rules don't get in the way of what they want to do.

But rules are vital for a healthy community. Imagine if everyone just did what they wanted when they wanted. Imagine if everyone only did what was best for them. Would that be a healthy place to live? Would it be a safe place to live?

I suggest that the answer is no.

Rules help us remember that it is not all about us. It is about US. Life in community is not about ensuring "that I get mine first", it is about ensuring that we all get what we need. Yes rules are a limitation on our activity but that is for the good of all of us.  Sometimes the rules save us from other people. Sometimes the rules protect others from us. Sometimes the rules protect us from ourselves.

As the people are heading through the wilderness to the Promised Land God is shaping them into a new people, a new nation. As a part of that process God gives rules, boundaries, laws that will guide how they live with God and with each other. The 10 Commandments are a part of this set of boundaries, rules, and laws.

Jewish tradition sees the Law as a gift from God. The Psalm this week talks about it as being "More to be desired are they than gold, even much fine gold; sweeter also than honey, and drippings of the honeycomb.". Can we view the rules and boundaries in our lives as gifts?

Now let us be honest. Some rules are bad. Some boundaries serve to protect things that should be dismantled. Some laws need to be changed. So we also need to discern which rules are helpful and which are not, which are gifts and which are tools for controlling us.

But in the end Good Boundaries make for Good Communities. And that is the end goal.  Isn't it????
--Gord

Sunday, September 27, 2020

What Next God? ( A Newspaper Submission)

There is a joke I have seen on Facebook a few times recently: God is asking the angels in charge of scheduling if they have put all the stuff for the 2020s in place. The angels sheepishly ask “the 2020s? You mean plural?”. God realizes they heard a request to put 2020’s stuff in place. “You mean you put 10 years of history into one year?” “Oh well....” Sometimes apostrophes make all the difference.

Many of us are almost constantly worrying about the future. What will it bring? Will it be positive? Will everything fall apart? And really we never truly know what the future will bring. Perhaps this year that uncertainty is even more deep-seated. “What next?” seems to be the question of the year thus far. What could go wrong NOW? Will we be able to sing Christmas Carols? Will the economy regain lost ground? When the next shoe falls (we must be up to about 8 shoes by now) what will it shake loose?

This past month my sermons have had me wandering around in the desert with Moses and the people of Israel. There is a lot of “What next” in that story. First they get trapped at the Red Sea and ask Moses why he led them there to get slaughtered. Then they get hungry and tell Moses they were better off in Egypt – at least they had food. Then they get thirsty and once again grumble against Moses. And right after that Moses goes up the mountain and comes down with a set of rules to govern how they will live together.

I think that living through 2020 is a lot like wandering in the wilderness. We have been cut off from the life we knew. Sometimes it seems like the rules are changing weekly, if not daily. Between the pandemic, an economic crisis, racial unrest on both sides of the 49th, and an increasingly uncertain Presidential election season, who really knows what new crisis will hit us? Out here in the wilderness called 2020 we start to wonder where 2021 will find us.

I don’t know. I am not in the business of trying to tell the future. Like anyone else I have guesses and hopes and fear what that future will bring but none of us really know. All we can do is guess with varying degrees of certainty.

I return to the people wandering through the desert. They were usually not happy about what was going on in life. They complained a LOT. But that time in the desert was shaping them, preparing them for who they would be in the future. So how is our time in the wilderness shaping us?

One of my hopes as we move forward out of our wilderness is that we will have learned something from the experience. What a waste of a year it would have been otherwise!! I hope that what we have learned will shape our priorities, both as individuals and as communities, going forward.

What are some of the priorities I see coming out of our wilderness experience? One is that we, as a culture, need to be ready to find ways to ensure that everybody has support so that a crisis does not leave them destitute. Some of us see this happening through a Guaranteed Annual or Universal Basic Income, some see other mechanisms. But we have learned (again) that our safety net needs strengthening. We need to fix that.

Another priority I would live to see coming our of our wandering is a renewed commitment to real action on issues of inequality. The protests this year have shown that more and more of us are less and less willing to accept structural inequality (racial, economic, gender-based). I am reminded of the late John Lewis and his admonition to “make good trouble”. I hope one of our priorities is to be troublemakers in search of a better way of living together.

When the people of Israel wandered around in the desert they kept wishing they could go back to Egypt. They may have been slaves but at least there they had food and water. At least there they knew who they were. Living into a new vision of who you are is hard work. But they could not go back. God was moving them forward into a new identity, a new vision, a promised land beyond the wilderness.

Time and again this year I have heard people yearning to go back to “normal”. I hope we don’t do that. I hope our time in the wilderness leads us into a new place. I think God is leading us to a new place. I just hope we don’t have to spend forty years wandering to get there.

Monday, September 21, 2020

Looking Ahead to September 27, 2020 -- Proper 21A, 17th After Pentecost

 The Scripture Readings this week are:

  • Exodus 17:1-17
  • Psalm 105:1-6, 37-45 

The Sermon title is Thirst-gry?

Early Thoughts: Have you had one of those days? Maybe the schedule has been too full. Maybe you got distracted. Maybe there just wasn't a chance.  But for some reason you missed a meal, or you forgot to drink enough. And now you are grumpy.

When our needs aren't getting met it often shows up in our actions and attitudes. Sometimes we need time to adjust to a new situation where our needs will be met differently.  Sometimes we need to go and find what we need. Sometimes the world has changed and pushed us to recognize that what we thought were needs were really wants.

The people of Israel are out in the desert. The one term that defines a desert is that it is dry. It might be cold, it might be hot, but it is dry. Not surprisingly, this becomes an issue. And so Moses has a chat with God and God leads the people to water, water that gushes out of a rock.

For what are we thirsting? What needs are not getting met in our lives? Where is our need, our thirst, our lack making us grumpy? How is that grumpiness impacting how we interact with the world around us?

When we are in the wilderness times of life (and a pandemic would likely meet that description)  it is easy to start to think and feel that we have been left alone, set aside to survive or perish on our own.  That can make us grumpy too.

The people of Israel needed (repeated) reminders that they were not off on their own, that God was with them. They needed to know that God was there to protect, guide, and sustain them. They needed to know both that their cries were heard and that their needs would be met. When they doubted that they became grumpy.

Then there is the last half of that Exodus passage, the battle with the Amalekites. These battle stories, where God appears to be helping one army destroy another, are often uncomfortable for us. But in the Exodus  story God is definitely seen as a warrior, going to battle for God's people. One thing I do take out of this story, coming as it does right after the water from the rock, is that the army of Israel is successful when they believe that God is with them (signified perhaps by Moses' up raised hands) but unsuccessful when they doubted God was with them (signified perhaps by Moses' lowered hands). When we trust that our needs are being met, that we are not alone, we can do more.

As we travel through the wilderness of COVID-tide, are we always sure our needs will be met? Are we sure that we are not alone? Where are we thirsting or hungering for something to fill an as yet unmet need? Where are we getting restless and grumpy and starting to cry out? What response do we need to our cries? What response do we want? (And no, those last two may not always have the same answer)
--Gord

Monday, September 14, 2020

Looking Ahead to September 20, 2020 -- Proper 20A, 16th After Pentecost

 The Scripture Readings this week are:

  • Exodus 16:2-15
  • Psalm 78 (VU p.792)

The Sermon title is Can We Go Back?

Early Thoughts: MAGA. Take Canada Back. When I was your age... All three have something in common. They evoke a time when things were better, or at least a feeling that things were better then. They express a desire to go back to what once was, because then life would be better or easier, or more straight forward again. Nostalgia has a powerful presence in the world.

Normally when I prepare to preach on this passage it is to preach against the desire to go back.  Because it is often unhelpful.  Nostalgia is a tool we use to  avoid changing our sense of who we are, or a tool to fight back against changes that scare us, or a tool to maintain our preferred status in our communities. Moving into a new sense of identity, moving into a new world can feel like moving into a place of barren-ness. We can easily make ourselves think that we would be better off it the place we used to be, even if that place was often painful. So often nostalgia is a force we need to push back against, because there are always folk who want us to go back to Egypt, even though hope and life lead out into the new place.

This year I am noticing a more nuanced approach is needed.  And in that nuance lies a side to nostalgia that we often overlook.  We talk a lot about the fear and resistance to change. We don't talk a lot about the grief that might underlie that fear and resistance. Even for the Israelites, recently freed from slavery, I think there was grief. They had to let go of their whole sense of identity as an oppressed, enslaved people. Who were they now. Grief, especially unnamed or unacknowledged grief is a potent force.

Thus is a year of grief for many people. So many people have lost so many different things over the last 6 months. And there is a real desire for us to get back to "normal". To get rid of social distancing, to sing hymns on church, to gather friends around a table for a meal, and so many other things. 

It ain't happening nearly as fast as folk want it to.

So what do we do with that? Can we name the things for which we are grieving? Can we mourn what is lost? Then can we ask what we really want back and what we don't? Because it is plausible that we really should not go all the way back to "normal". It is plausible that when we come out of this pandemic we will never do things the same way. I think that has real positive possibility, because "normal" was not always healthy as it was.  But I think we only get there by naming our grief and doing the work of grief so that we can honestly evaluate where we want to go next.

Otherwise we fall prey to nostalgia, and pledges to take us back to the Golden Age, to make us great again. How will we choose to move forward?
--Gord

Sunday, September 6, 2020

Looking Ahead to September 13, 2020 - Proper 19A, 15th Sunday After Pentecost

 The Scripture Reading this week is Exodus 14:10-31

The Sermon title is Take the First Step!

Early Thoughts: Imagine the scene. Moses has convinced Pharaoh to let the people go, and convinced the people to follow him. They are hastening out of captivity to freedom. Or so they thought.

But Pharaoh had second thoughts and is now chasing them with his army. The people are trapped between the water and the war chariots. Is there any hope left? What now!?!

The plan seems audacious, perhaps even ludicrous.  "Stretch out your hand over the sea to divide it" God says to Moses, "that the Israelites may go into the sea on dry ground." Really? How many people in the crowd found this to be a reasonable option?

There is a midrashic story that I need to investigate this week about the person [a quick search suggests his name is Nahson or Nachshon] who was bold (or foolish or desperate) enough to take that first step, to be the first one to walk into the sea. I wonder how many of us would jump in like that.

One of the bits I think we miss in the story of the Red Sea is that it relies on simple acts. When I learned it in Sunday School the focus was on what God does. When we watch Charlton Heston the focus is on what God does (with Mr. Heston running a close second). But in order for God to act God seems to need others to participate in simple things.  If Moses does not stretch out his hand and wave his staff does the wind part the waters? If Nachshon is not willing to take the first step will God act? does Moses? will the people follow? Simple acts of faith, acts that, in theory, could accomplish absolutely nothing, make a deep difference in the story.

I think that is where our learning might be in this story. Well, to be honest, I think there are a lot of places where we can enter the story and learn something about how God is active in the world, but one of them for me is our ability (or willingness) to take those simple first steps.

I note that there is a lot of fear in this story. And while Moses tells them not to be afraid, I am pretty sure they were still somewhat terrified. Caught between sea and chariots how else would one feel? The people move forward in their fear. Possibly despite their fear, possibly driven to desperation by their fear. But they move on regardless. How many times do we not take the first step because of our fear? What would it take for us to jump into the water?

And the simplicity of the actions.  Stretch out your hand. Step out into the water (or mud). I suspect the people wanted bolts of lightning to strike down Pharaoh, or some other grand cataclysm. But the miracle is set out by simple little acts. How often do we look for the big thing that we need to do (or needs to be done) and miss the simple little things that start the ball rolling?

Many of us know that feeling of being trapped between sea and chariots (though the axiom we most often use is between a rock and a hard place). Many of us know the feeling of being overwhelmed by bad options. Many of us know the feeling of being held captive, enslaved by something that refuses to let us go. But the story reminds us that we are not alone. The story reminds us that liberation is possible. The story reminds us that the impassable obstacle can in fact be blown away. We might have to slog through the mud for a bit but liberation and freedom are possible.

We just might need to take the first simple step along the way in order for it to happen.

--Gord

Wednesday, September 2, 2020

Extravagant...? -- A Newsletter piece


Back in January, during the before-Covid times, we invited people to draw a Spirit Word. This would be a word to hold in your head throughout the year. It might be something to inspire you. It might be something to reflect on. It might be a reminder that God is with you, challenging you to add something to your life.

I drew Extravagance. Since that day the word has been pinned to my office bulletin board along with the calendar. I see it every time I glance up. What might it mean for me? I would not describe myself as an exceptionally extravagant person. Even back in January I pondered what God might do within me as I reflected on that word. Then March came and the world changed.

What does extravagance mean in a year beset with a pandemic (along with the shutdown and physical distancing and everything else that COVID-19 brought us)? What does it mean in a world with a financial crunch? What does it mean in a world where we are being pushed more and more strongly to confront the reality of racism in our midst?

On the surface it seems that extravagance does not fit into 2020. 2020 has been more a year of sheltering and low-key activities, not of showiness and lavish displays. Shall I find the baskets and draw a new word?

Well no. Partly because that would defeat the purpose of having a word to reflect on for the whole year. Partly because I can’t actually remember what we did with the un-drawn words. But largely because I think God might still be calling me to be extravagant.

Just for fun, I went to Dictionary.com and looked up Extravagant. Here is what I found:

1. spending much more than is necessary or wise; wasteful: an extravagant shopper.
2. excessively high: extravagant expenses; extravagant prices.
3. exceeding the bounds of reason, as actions, demands, opinions, or passions.
4. going beyond what is deserved or justifiable: extravagant praise.
5. Obsolete. wandering beyond bounds.

I might also add that the word brings to my mind “extravaganza”, which suggests a grand show and celebration, probably linked to definition #3 above.

As I look again at those definitions and reflect on my understanding of how God calls us to live I am drawn to numbers 3 and 4. God calls me to love extravagantly, beyond what is deserved, beyond the bounds of logic or reason. God calls me to share extravagantly. In a world full of fear of not having enough, God calls me to be extravagant with what I have. Do I follow that call all the time? No. I could certainly do more of it. But that is where reflecting on this Spirit-Word has led me today.

We are called to be extravagant in our love. We can show this extravagance in our acts of Stewardship – how we share the gifts that an extravagant God has given us. We can live extravagance in our passion for justice, in working for a world where all have their needs for food and shelter and respect met.

Some people might call it wasteful and imprudent to live this extravagantly. But I am quite sure God sometimes wants us to be wasteful and imprudent, even profligate. After all, my reading of Scripture suggests that God is often all those things when dealing with God’s people.
--Gord