Looking Ahead to April 5, 2026 -- Easter Sunday

The Scripture for this morning in John 20:1-18

The Sermon title is The Impossible...Possible?

Early Thoughts: Can life really win after all? Can hope really overcome despair? Can love actually conquer fear?

It seems impossible. WE know all too well the reality of death, despair, and fear. We just have to look at the world around us to believe that they are what is actually winning. Surely it is a pipe-dream, a pollyanna attitude, to believe otherwise.

And then we read the Easter story.

Jesus was dead after all. When the Roman Empire wanted you dead then you were going to end up dead. He had been crucified, he had proclaimed "It is Finished" and bowed down his head, his side had been pierced, and his body had been laid in a tomb. The world had won. Mary was heading to his tomb to weep and mourn.

But then the impossible happened.

The stone was rolled away. The tomb was empty. Some new horror must have taken place. "I don't know where they have taken him!"

But this was not some new horror, this was hope beyond hope. Mary would meet the one who died, would be able to proclaim (as the first evangelist, the first to preach the Good News) "I have seen the Lord!"

What seemed impossible was indeed possible. Death did not have the final word --life and love did. Despair is not, in the end, stronger than hope. 

That is the Easter promise. That is the Easter message. The world had done its worst and it still lost. It is still true today. When it looks like fear and death and despair have won then we know it ain't over yet. It ain't over until hope and life and love have won. Anything else is just a setback.

As The Dread Pirate Roberts/Westley tells Buttercup in The Princess Bride "Death can not stop true love, all it can do is delay it for a while".

It seems impossible but it is a statement of faith and trust. Live Wins.

Thanks be to God.
--Gord

Looking Ahead to Holy Week

Shall we start with Thursday...

We will read a segment from Matthew's account of Jesus' last days: Matthew 26:17-30, 36-46

The Reflection will be Stay Awake

Early Thoughts: They have gathered for a meal. Jesus has given them the structure for what will eventually be formalized into the Christian Eucharist/Communion celebration. Since the triumphant entry into the city just a few days ago Jesus has been confronting the authorities in the Temple and has spent time talking about preparing for the end. Surely the stress level amongst the disciples must have been a little high.

Then in the garden Jesus asks them to sit in the dark and stay awake. They fail. Repeatedly.

What if they had stayed awake? What if they had overheard Jesus anguished prayer? How might that have changed them?

Sleep is, of course, a necessity for our health. Sleep keeps us renewed. Sometimes sleep can be a way to escape as well. Sometimes in stress sleep is one of those ways we can shut off the outside world, even if just for a little while.

When should we be more intentional about staying awake? 

In the last number of years some commentators have tried to make being 'woke' (even if the term is never really well-defined) as a bad thing. Interestingly others tell people to "Wake UP!!!!". As we contemplate following the path of Jesus, The Way of Jesus I think we have to be awake. I think we have to resist the temptations to allow ourselves to be numbed to reality, or to let ourselves be lulled into falling asleep. HOw might our world change if more of us stayed awake?

At the same time I know some of us are exhausted and a nap sounds really good...

Now shall we look at Friday?

This year we will hear a portion of the Passion story as told by John: John 19:1-30

That will be followed by a reflection So Many Crosses

Early Thoughts: The Passion story is a story of a sham trial, a foregone conclusion and a torturous execution. Good thing those don't happen anymore right?

OR do they?

AS we look at the world are there people who are summarily condemned? Maybe not by the state but certainly by the society around them. There are people who are cast away. There are people who are scapegoated, who are used as convenient sacrifices to keep the world acting "as normal". There are people who are told that to be their full selves makes them eligible for being cast out, makes them worth less than others.

What are the crosses we see in the world today? WHen we see them how do we react?

Later that night we will hear the end of the Good Friday story, the burial of Jesus: John 19:38-42

That marks our transition into the great time of vigil and waiting. So we will be invited to reflect with We Are Waiting.

Early Thoughts: What is is like to wait? How do we sit vigil? What are we waiting for?

In his Song "Hidden Hallelujah" Christopher Grundy reminds us of some of the people who are left out, some of the crosses in our world. He also reminds us that we are all waiting for a hidden hallelujah, waiting to hear the bells of justice, waiting for God's grace, for God's kin-dom. One of our Easter hymns (Joy Comes With the Dawn) tells us that weeping may come in the night  but then joy comes in the morning light.

AS we leave the Good Friday service night has fallen. But we await a new dawn, a new hope, life will yet win.  As Grundy sings, "it ain't over til the angels sing".
--Gord

Looking Ahead to March 29, 2026 -- Palm Sunday

 The Scripture Readings this week are:

• Zechariah 9:9-10
• Matthew 21:1-17

The Sermon title is The King Arrives!

Early Thoughts: What if it is a loyalty test? Where would we land in such a test? Which king-ship, which brand or expression of power would we line up beside/behind?

The Palm Sunday story carries with it many images fit for a King. Matthew tells the story, it appears, with the words of Zechariah in his head (even if Matthew reads it as though the victorious king is riding in to the city on two animals at once). There the imagery is clearly victorious and yet even there we find a disconnect. The victorious king proclaimed by Zechariah is humble rather than proud, riding on an ass instead of a war horse. So it is with Jesus. And yet the crowds cheering and laying branches and cloaks on the roadway certainly give it a triumphant, even royal feeling. Are the branches and cloak the equivalent of rolling out the red carpet?

So it is a royal welcome, a victory march, perhaps a coronation processional. But one meant for a very different king. One that lifts up a very different understanding of power. One that challenges how we understand 'the way the world works' -- a challenge made evident as Jesu immediately goes to the Temple and upsets the business happening there..

In their book The Last Week Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan suggest that there are two parades happening this day. As one king enters the city to great acclaim but humbly riding on a donkey the Empire enters the city through another gate with a great show of military Imperial power. Which model of power will win?

Source and Description

To be a Christian, or at least one definition of that, is to become more Christ-like, to align our lives and priorities with Jesus. In that case how we answer the loyalty question becomes easier and, at the same time, more complicated. Obviously we would choose the power of the one on the donkey, the one who says things like "blessed are the meek, the peacemakers, the merciful, those who huger for righteousness", the one who calls us to love our enemies, the one who tells us not to hoard what we have, the one who tells us to serve all our neighbours because then we serve him. That must be the answer right? But doing that is hard. Doing that goes against the flow. Doing that seems, at times, foolhardy. Certainly it is no way to get ahead in the world.

This week the king arrives in town. As the next week progresses the full cost of his understanding of king-ship and power and the world will be put to the test. The powers around him will fail the test. His closest friends will scatter out of fear for their own survival. 2000 ears later we still parade and sing and cheer. But how will we do on the test? In a world where empire still strikes hard and fast. In a world where power is defined as 'might makes right' or 'greed works', a world where being different often leads you to the edges of society is there a place for the power of a king on a donkey?

What if it is a loyalty test? What brand/understanding of power do we choose?
--Gord

Looking Ahead to March 22, 2026 -- Lent 5

 The Scripture Reading this week is John 11:1-44 (the raising of Lazarus)

At Children's Time we will be hearing about Ezekiel and the valley of dry bones.

The Sermon title is Death, Grief, Life

Early Thoughts: Jesus wept. He came to the place where Lazarus had been laid and Jesus wept. As one of our Communion hymns (Eat This Bread and Never Hunger verse 3, #471 in Voices United) puts it: "Weeping for his friend at graveside, Jesus felt the pain of death".

Source

This is a well-known, maybe even beloved, story from John's Gospel. It is also a challenging story. Why does Jesus not respond faster to the news that Lazarus is ill? Is talking to a woman in fresh grief (who has already questioned why you did not get there in time to make a difference) really the best time to engage in theological discussions about resurrection and the end times? Sometimes reading the story I get the sense that Jesus wants to make it all about him, that Lazarus (and his death and his grieving family) are just props for Jesus to show his/God's Power and make a theological point about the Messiah.

But then we meet the raw emotion of it. Jesus weeps. Jesus who has already said he is on his way to re-awaken Lazarus, Jesus who knows what he plans to do next, Jesus who is about to call Lazarus out of the tomb, he weeps. Because Jesus knows the reality that when death visits grief is always along for the ride.

This is a story about death and grief and how we respond. At least that is part of the story. It is not the end of the story. The end of the story is life.

It is a roller coaster after all. Lazarus is sick. Lazarus is "asleep". Lazarus is well and truly dead (4 days in the tomb dead). There is great grief. Then Lazarus comes out of the tomb and, presumably sine the text does not tell us, there is great joy and relief.

Paired with this story in the lectionary is the story of Ezekiel and his vision of the valley of dry bones. Ezekiel is told by God to speak  to the bones and the become re-articulated (toe bone connected to the boot bon, foot bone connected to the leg bone...) and covered with flesh. Ezekiel speaks again and the Spirit of God blows into these bodies and they become alive again. Where there was only death and grief and loss there is once again life.

But the life never really removes the reality of death and grief. They remain as echoes, they remain to change how we see the world.

So it is, so it always has been. Death and grief are part of life but in the end, faith tells us, life will win.

An we weep with Jesus and still find the promise that life will emerge? Can we look at a valley of dry dead hopes and dreams and feel the wind of God blowing around with the promise of new life? Can we look at a world where illness and death and destruction seem to have the upper hand and still look for signs of new life?

The last line of that verse I quoted earlier is "yet he knew God's power to waken; living water, living breath". In Christ, with God, in faith, life and love will win in the end. If they haven't won yet then the story has not yet ended.
--Gord

Looking Ahead to March 15, 2026 -- Lent 4, Daring Justice

 

The Scripture Readings this week are:

• Amos 5:21-24
• John 2:13-17

The Sermon title is Dare to Flip the Tables

Early Thoughts: One of the oldest answers to the question "what does it mean to be a Christian?" is that it is to try to be like Christ. Not just to follow his way but to be like him, to share his passion for God's Reign, to share his concern for the people out at the margins.

Jesus, in a fit of passionate outrage, flipped over tables and drove people out of the Temple.

What might lead us to be as intentionally disruptive? What would be our equivalent to flipping over the tables in the Temple?

The third word pair in the Call to the United Church put out by the General Council a few years back is Daring Justice. To be daring is to take risks. To be daring is to challenge the status quo. To be daring is to suggest a whole new way of seeing/being in the world.

How do we take risks to break the wheels of injustice? It is easier to bandage the wounds and make sincere calls for change. How do we slide a pipe into the wheels (throw a spanner in the works?) so that there aren't people waiting to be bandaged?

Years ago I heard a speaker share a different version of that idea. It was noted that the church is good at pulling bodies from the river to keep folk from being washed away. Sometimes we even build grand structure to help catch them as they float by. But what we really need to do is go upstream and stop them from being thrown in.

Scripture is fairly clear that justice is one of God's primary concerns. In Torah we find many laws/rules/regulations designed to make a more just society, one where all are allowed to thrive. In the prophets there are a couple of primary complaints made against the people and their leadership. One is that they have wandered astray, falling into idolatry and neglecting to follow the way God placed in front of them. The other (which is often related to the first) is that they have failed to act justly toward each other. Then in the Gospels Jesus fairly regularly chooses justice (maybe in his teachings, maybe in his healings, maybe in his actions) over the Law. He goes so far as to point out that Sabbath in particular is made for people not the reverse, so justice and health for the people take precedence over the law.

We live in a world that is filled with examples of injustice. Whole groups of people are pushed to the margins, are blamed for all that is wrong with the province/country/economy, are targeted for violence, are used as scapegoats. Individuals and groups are deprived of what is needed to live, to grow, to thrive. Systems seem to favour the haves over the have-nots.

What can we do? How can we break the cycles?

We are called to dare to challenge the systems of injustice, even (or perhaps especially) when we ourselves benefit from those systems. That sounds risky. 

We are called to flip over the tables and barriers that get in the way. Sometimes we have helped to build or maintain those barriers. Sometimes we put a target on our backs when start to lift the edge. It is easy to talk about it over coffee, or hear a sermon at church, or write a letter to a politician. Can we take the risk of taking to the streets, of acting out our prayers for justice?

In this post are quotes from the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Dietrich Bonhoeffer. They are but two examples of people who chose to take that risk, who chose to let the target appear on them. They both spoke out against injustice and evil. They both paid a heavy price.

And now, because I have another picture, I see another piece of our call to daring justice. We live in a world, a culture, of personal freedom. Surely freedom (or FREEDOM!!! as some might say it) can't get in the way of justice can it?

Freedom is vital to a healthy society. But it needs to be limited, responsible freedom. 6 years ago the world shut down. 6 years ago we entered debates about mask mandates and vaccines and freedom. As the picture shows us, freedom used irresponsibly or without consideration for others does indeed get in the way for justice.

Maybe one of the ways we practice Daring Justice is to give up some of our 'freedom'. Perhaps the path to justice involves what is good for the community and not just what is good for me. Perhaps one of the tables that needs flipping is this belief that the individual is king?  In fact I am almost certain this is the case.

What other tables do you think need to be flipped? Where are we called to take risks as God creates a just world around us?
--Gord