Darrow Woods: Writer of Things

A is for Advent. Advent is an old word. Not so old that you will find it anywhere in the Bible- but that is true of a surprising number of words and ideas that have become part of our Christian tradition.

Our English word Advent is derived from the latin word “Adventus”, which means coming, or arrival- so this is the season in which we await the arrival of Jesus. There is a connection between this word and the word “Adventure”, which is often defined as an enterprise that involves danger and risk. Can we think of this time of waiting for Christmas as an adventure?

How can it be an adventure without some element of danger?

The earliest known manuscripts of the “books” that make up the New Testament were written in Greek- which was the common language of much of the Roman Empire. When the Greek manuscripts were translated into Latin, “Adventus” was the word chosen to translate the Greek word “Parousia”. Parousia is a more nuanced word than arrival or coming. It was used to talk about official visits of royalty.

Parousia is the word the early Christian writers used when they were talking not about the birth of Jesus, but about the return of the Risen Christ, an event often called the Second Coming, or the Second Advent. From earliest times, the Christian tradition has included the expectation of Christ’s return, in an event that would mark the end of an age, and possibly the end of the world as we know it. On the Sunday before Advent began, many congregations celebrated “Reign of Christ”, or “Christ the King” Sunday, and listened to a reading from Matthew’s Gospel that described “the day of the Lord”:

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats.” (Matthew 25:31-32)

As 21^st Century followers of Jesus, what do we make of the expectation of a Second Coming? If we do not take it literally- what other meaning does it have for us?

Personally, I take the stories about “the end of the age” as a reminder that we are not ultimately in charge of life on earth, or even of our own lives. I find the idea a cataclysmic age-ending event on a global scale hard to accept, but have come to recognize that we each face our own mortality, and the end of particular phases or stages of our lives, all the time.

What changes are you facing? What losses have you already endured? Christmas is often a time when we are more deeply aware of the absence of people, and the disappointment of unfulfilled dreams.

In the midst of these smaller scale “end of the age” events, do you have the sense that God is with you? In yesterday’s “letter” I suggested taking two minutes each day this week for silent prayer. If you allow yourself to silently wait on God, you may get a glimpse or a feeling of something new that God has for you- something that is waiting to be born.

The Advent Alphabet is a ministry offering from Rev. Darrow Woods, minister at Trinity United Church in Oakville, Ontario.

 

 

 

The information website for Canadian immigration services crashed Tuesday night, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of inquiries received while the results of the American presidential election rolled in.

Facebook friends from the U.S. have asked if they can pitch a tent in my backyard. Some of them may not be kidding. I wonder what our neighbours would think.

We like our neighbours. They have their own way of doing things, and we do not share all their interests or preoccupations. We make friendly conversation, without being close friends. We care about each other, and lend a hand, or lawn furniture, as needed. (Even when they have a loud party!)

We don’t talk politics, and have never posted lawn signs at election time, but I suspect we would not support the same candidates or policies.

My neighbour and I just contracted to rebuild the fence between our properties. Neither of us really wanted to spend the money, but sometimes you have to fix what is broken. The posts were rotted and the fence was falling over. It did not feel right to just tear it out. It was there before either of us moved in. The guy we hired put on the finishing touches as the world was digesting the election news.

When I woke on Wednesday morning the sun was shining, but there was a fall chill in the air. We had a fresh dump of leaves on our lawn. The cold wind knocks them loose. We are blessed to have stately oak trees and noble red maples on our street. Our front yard is graced by a young white birch with brilliant yellow foliage. This time of year I could be raking every day.

Many leaves on my lawn come from other people’s trees. The wind takes them, and they land where they land. The new fence, even though it’s a little higher than the old one, won’t change that.

The election results are like a cold wind to many people, and things they don’t want are landing on them. That was going to be true for a lot of folks, no matter which way the electoral breezes blew.

My hope and prayer is that despite the November chill, my American neighbours will make the efforts needed to tear out what needs to be torn out, mend what needs to be mended, and work together to clean it all up.

 

This is a version of the opening devotion for a meeting of the Trinity United Church Council, held on Wednesday, June 22:

Tuesday, June 21 was National Aboriginal Day, first proclaimed in 1996 by then-Governor General Roméo LeBlanc, to recognize and celebrate the heritage, diverse cultures and contributions of First Nations, Inuit and Métis peoples. There is conversation about it becoming a statutory holiday.

Last year, the National Truth and Reconciliation Commission completed its work, and issued its final report. In the introduction to summary of recommendations, the first paragraph says:

“For over a century, the central goals of Canada’s Aboriginal policy were to eliminate Aboriginal governments; ignore Aboriginal rights; terminate the Treaties; and, through a process of assimilation, cause Aboriginal peoples to cease to exist as distinct legal, social, cultural, religious, and racial entities in Canada.”

As public policy, it was both shameful, and a failure, and we all live, consciously or not, with the social, spiritual, political and moral consequences. The TRC completed its work with 94 calls to action, many of which are meant to educate, raise awareness, and to promote right relations.

The United Church of Canada has issued formal apologies for its role in the darker chapters of our shared history, and is committed to being in good relations, and to seeking justice together on the issues impacting Indigenous Peoples in Canada today.

One small but important symbolic action many governments, school boards, and church bodies have taken is to acknowledge when they meet, that they are gathered on traditional territory.

I would like us to begin our meeting tonight with gratitude for the land where we live, and where we are free to worship, and follow our own traditions. We acknowledge that all the land is sacred, and a gift from the Creator, and that long before we were here, this land we are on is part of the traditional territory of the Mississaugas.

The Mississaugas of the New Credit First Nation are part of a much larger civilization of people known as the Anishinabe. This word means “human beings” in the language of the Ojibway.

They are the original people who resided on the traditional territory of what we now know as Halton. The Oakville land was part of the 1805 Toronto Purchase and 1806 Head of the Lake Purchase between the Crown and the Mississaugas.

It would be good for our congregation to think about other occasions when we might make this acknowledgment.

 

(I am still catching up on posting my teaching times from past Sundays, but given the events of the last week, I wanted to put my effort for Father’s Day ahead of the others.

We began the Father’s Day service with a joyous celebration of new life, the blessing of a child. Just before the blessing, I showed the congregation a music video of the song “humble and kind” by Tim McGraw.)

humble and kind

I came to church last Sunday in a state of blissful ignorance. I had not turned on the radio, or looked online, and had no idea what had happened in Orlando the night before. Part of me wishes that I had heard the news. Another part of me rebels against this kind of information. I don’t always want to be reminded of the hate, and the violence of which humans are capable.

It is not too late a week later, to take a moment in silence, to pray for all the lives ended early, all the wounded survivors, and the first responders, and all the grieving families and friends.

 

Moment of silent prayer.

 

Last Saturday afternoon I was at a conference at the University of Toronto Mississauga campus. One of the speakers was a young man named Shane Claiborne. Shane is a founding member of an intentional Christian community in Philadelphia.

He brought with him from Philadelphia the garden tool you can see in the picture.

This simple trowel was made from the recycled metal of an AR-15, the same type of weapon used in Orlando last Saturday night.

I have a video clip of Shane talking about a project he has been involved with, that follows the biblical idea of making peace. They take instruments of violence, and turn them into something useful.

swords into plows

I love what they are doing. I also love why they are doing it. They believe in transforming the world, a little bit at a time. Very much like Jesus as we see him in most of the Gospel stories, working with people one at time.

In the video Shane said what is needed is a movement of life, a movement of people committed to the idea that every person is precious. What a basic, simple idea. What a good idea, to remember, and to live from the conviction that every person is precious.

The Merriam Webster online dictionary defines “precious” as an adjective that describes something that is: rare and worth a lot of money; very valuable or important; too valuable or important to be wasted or used carelessly; greatly loved, valued, or important.

In God’s eyes, we are all precious, and our lives are far too valuable to be wasted or used carelessly. As a father, whatever else I may desire for my children, I want them to know they are loved, and they are blessed, and they can be a blessing to others.

When some of Jesus’ friends argued over which of them was the greatest, he showed them a child, and said, “Whoever welcomes this little child in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. For it is the one who is least among you all who is the greatest.”

This was a beautiful way to break them out of their awkward scrambling for attention and praise. It was as if Jesus was saying to them, don’t worry about so much about being the richest, or strongest, or most popular. You don’t need to walk over other people, or push them out of the way.

As Tim McGraw said in the lyrics of his song, “Always be humble and kind”. It is easier to be both of those things, when you know that you are loved, and blessed.

Of all the stories that came out of Orlando this week, the ones that touched me in the deepest were about families who were called and told that their child, their grand-child, their nephew or cousin had died, and it turned out that this was the way they learned that their relative was gay.

What a way to find out. What was going on in that family, and in their hearts, that made it so hard for their child to be open with them about who they were?

Organized religions, including the Christian faith, still have a lot to answer for, for the way we have reinforced and preserved prejudice and discrimination. Religion has too often been part of the problem. We need to pay attention to the ways that the message of God’s love has been distorted, and misused, to exclude people, rather than letting them know they are precious, and loved, and blessed for who they are. We need to hammer away at those hateful messages, and transform them into something better, something useful.

We need to be daring, and take risks, and be willing to be vulnerable and weak. We need to admit that we don’t have all the answers, about anything. We need to be humble and kind, and to take every opportunity available, to celebrate that we are blessed, and to look for ways to be a blessing others. Amen

 

 

 

 

“Hit the road, Jack”. That’s basically what people in Jesus’ home synagogue said. Actually, they went beyond hit the road, to hit whatever’s at the bottom of the cliff they wanted to toss him over. So what happened to Jesus on that day? Things started out well. Jesus read a familiar passage from the scroll of the prophet Isaiah:

”God’s Spirit is on me;     he’s chosen me to preach the Message of good news to the poor, Sent me to announce pardon to prisoners and     recovery of sight to the blind, To set the burdened and battered free,     to announce, “This is God’s year to act!”

So far, so good. The people seem happy. But Jesus went on, and said, “I suppose you’re going to quote the proverb, ‘Doctor, go heal yourself. Do here in your hometown what we heard you did in Capernaum.’ Well, let me tell you something: No prophet is ever welcomed in his hometown. “

Jesus also mentioned 2 stories from Israel’s past, in which prophets came to the aid of someone in need. Elijah helped a hungry widow in Sidon, and Elisha healed a leper named Naaman, who was from Syria. The common element is both people who experience God’s mercy through a prophet are foreigners. They are not Jews, and definitely not from Jesus’ hometown.

Jesus seems to say, “Don’t think too highly of yourselves.” Because it was Jesus’ hometown, he would know who was living justly, who beat their wives, who traded fairly, who charged outrageous interest, who cared properly for servants and slaves, and who treated them poorly. He would know what these folks were like all week, not just when they came for worship.

The relief organization Oxfam, released an article that says 62 people control over half the wealth in the whole world. I am pretty sure none of them are here this morning. The report was timed to coincide with the annual World Economic Forum in Davos. It calls attention to the stark reality that 1% of people own more wealth than the other 99% combined.

I can get pretty worked up when I read these numbers. Partly because I grew up in poverty, and partly because I see on a regular basis what poverty and hunger does to children, and families.

Shouldn’t there be a rule that says no person can have more than their own weight in gold, or platinum, or diamonds? Shouldn’t there be a way to spread wealth around, just enough that babies don’t go hungry, children are not starved for an education, and families aren’t left thirsty for hope and opportunity to make their lives better?

I can still get pretty huffy, and wonder how people live with themselves, when I hear about the next 5-10 % of people that control the next quarter of the world’s money. It gets more personal, however, when I acknowledge that I spend more money at Tim Horton’s in a year, than whole families live on, in some parts of the world. How can I live with myself? What is wrong with me? Why do I not wake up, and smell the human misery, and share more of what I have?

One of my favourite modern prophets is the Canadian songwriter Bruce Cockburn. He sings truth with this line in a song called Justice: “Everybody Loves to see Justice done On somebody else”

In the last line Jesus read from the Book of Isaiah, it said the prophet has come to announce, “This is God’s year to act!” That’s a rough translation of the original, which says it was time to proclaim the Year of Jubilee.

The Jubilee Year was something called for in ancient Jewish scriptures, that people never actually followed. It would be like a big re-start, or do-over, to the whole economy. Every fifty years, all lands, property, wealth, everything, would be returned to the original owners, going back to the time when the country was first settled. So if your family had grown wealthy over the generations, and gathered a lot of land, it would go back to the previous owners. If your family had gone bankrupt, and lost everything, they would get their original share back. Things would be evened out, so that all slaves would be freed, the poor provided for, and every family, every clan, would have a fresh start.

What would happen if there was a do-over right here, and all the land had to be returned to the original owners, before Europeans settled here?

The Year of Jubilee was a vision of how God sees each person as equal, and equally entitled to live, to grow, to eat, to learn, to thrive. It is the opposite of any sense of entitlement or privilege. No wonder it enraged the people in the synagogue. It slams head long against the me-first, my family-first, my clan-first, my race-first, my economic-class, my club-first mentality that was strong in Jesus’ time, and may be even more prevalent today, in our consumer driven culture.

We love hearing how God loves each of us. We may be less excited to hear God does not actually love us more than other people. God loves all 8 billion of us, we are all members of the same human family. We are responsible for, and involved with, the well-being of all people, whether they are foreign to us or not.

Jesus was telling the people in his hometown, and us, that any system, or political idea, or cultural bias that says some people are more deserving of the basics of life than others, and we have no obligation to those who suffer, is a self-serving lie.

In feudal times, the doctrine of the divine right of kings suggested that those who were in power, even if they had won that power through use of brutal force, were in power because God wanted it that way.

In our time, consumer culture seems to dictate that economic might makes right, and our values are determined by market forces. If something sells, or makes a profit, it is by definition, good. If it doesn’t, it is bad.

Politicians, and big time preachers have handlers to tell them what causes to promote, and what issues to stay away from. If Jesus’ advance team had been on top of things, he wouldn’t have been run out of town, because they would have told him nobody wanted to hear what he had to say.

They would have had him stick to issues that get people excited, but let them point the finger at someone else. Let him talk about sexual morality, or welfare fraud, or the war on terror, or how property values go down if too many low income housing projects get built. Issues that let us blame someone else for the world’s woes.

Getting run out of town is not necessarily proof your message is righteous. There are some messengers we may wish to run out of town, because their narrow vision, their racism, their obvious self-serving agenda just makes us cringe, and we need for their poison to not be spread.

The message of the worth, and worthiness of each human being might get temporarily run out of town, but it doesn’t stay run out of town. It always comes back, because God’s love is bigger than pollsters and spin-masters and the posses that want to scare away the truth.

I love how this story ends. Jesus miraculously, mysteriously passes through the midst of the angry crowd, and moves on, to preach and teach in other places. The message of God’s love, and justice, meant for every one of us, carries on. Thanks be to God for that. Amen

 

When we moved twelve years ago, we decided not to subscribe to cable. The installer who came to set up internet service had not read the work order closely. I was in the basement with him, and he asked where the television would be, so he could measure line to run to the converter. It took a few minutes to explain we wanted internet, but had no interest in paying to watch television.

A lot of people are unplugging. The availability of internet based content is part of the reason. Another is cost. A major factor for us was when we had cable, we watched a lot of things we did not actually need or want to watch, just because they were on, and we happened to be sitting in front of the screen. Mindless, end of the day vegging out. Everyone can use some, but we decided it wasn’t worth the cost, in time and money.

Our kids were very young when we pulled the plug on cable. They have grown up without hundreds of channels- and settle for what comes over the airwaves. We get about 10 channels using our attic antenna. We also keep the tv in the basement. Our living room is filled with musical instruments, and the stereo. I think the musicality of both kids can be connected to that choice.

We still watch television at our house. We find things online, and we use Netflix. Recently I added an app to my ipad that allows me to watch shows from the Global Network when I run on the treadmill. I did that the other day, and noticed some things.

I was wearing Bluetooth headphones, so I was very aware the people at Global pump up the volume for the commercials. I hate that. It’s another reason I don’t like regular television.

I also noticed the content of the ads. During “Angel from Hell”, and the Late Show with Stephen Colbert, the same three ads cycled over and over. They reminded me of a story:

Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, left the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing during those days, and at the end of them he was hungry.

 The devil said to him, “Get thee over to Subway, where every day is Sub Day. Thou shalt purchase the foot long of your choice for $5.99.”

Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone.’”

The devil led him up to a car dealership. And he said,” This 2016 Subaru with assymetrical all-wheel drive shall take thee anywhere you might possibly want or need to go. You will be the envy of all who see you in this beauty, and every place you drive will be sunny and warm. Just having this car in your driveway will make you look trendy, smart, and attractive.”

 Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God and serve him only.’”

 The devil led him to the lottery kiosk, and said, “Dost thou realize what you could do with 50 million dollars? If this desert was in the United States, we could hook you up with a Power Ball ticket, and the prize could be 1.3 billion dollars. Just think how much better your life could be. Nothing bad or uncomfortable could every touch you. Anything your heart desired, would be at your finger-tips. After winning this amazing, wondrous, miraculous prize, people would flock to you.”

Jesus answered, “It is said: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”

Fast food, fancy new cars, and ridiculously large pots of money may not be what tempts you or I. There may be other things. Popularity. The thrill of gambling. Sex. Gossip. Cheesecake. The reckless abandon of just a few too many drinks. The superiority of judging everything, and everyone, and finding fault.

We each have our personal temptations, the bright baubles or special perks, or unmet hungers, or unquenched thirsts, the buttons that can be pressed to capture our attention, to tap into our obsessions, to convince us life would be so much better, even if only for the time it would take to eat that Cadbury Easter Crème Egg.

The things that tempted Jesus, and that may tempt us, may not, in themselves be good or bad. In the story, the devil tempts Jesus to use food, or power, or miracles, to prove himself.

In Luke’s Gospel, after he was baptized by John, in the river Jordan, Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness. Some authors suggest this was like a spiritual retreat, or a vision quest.

The Spirit came down in bodily form like a dove when he was baptized, and Jesus heard a voice from heaven naming him as God’s beloved son. Jesus needed time and space to sort out who he is, what his life woud be about, and how he would live. How will he be the person God intends?

The question is acted out in dramatic ways. The tempter offers options, and each time Jesus has to decide, is this right for me? Jesus will face similar choices his whole earthly life, as each of us does. We have to find the best way to be ourselves, in little moments, and with big choices, every day.

It is not easy. Many of the actual things that tempt us in our daily lives, food, the things money can buy, the hope of easy and simple answers to hard questions, are not bad in themselves. But they can sure distract us.

In a wild and barren wilderness, away from daily distractions, Jesus wrestles with questions of what his life will be. He is tempted with visions of food, of power and prestige, and with security. In each case he answers his tempter with words of scripture, that point toward God.

It is good to bring God into the decision making process.

I went to a meeting this week at another United Church, where the leaders are wrestling with hard decisions about the future of the congregation. The people in that meeting room seemed afraid, and deeply worried. I was there because they had wanted a quick and easy solution to their problems, and for some of them, the quickest answer seemed to be to let their minister go. My role was to make sure they knew the proper process, and the full implications of their choices.

As I listened, and talked with them about possibilities they might not have looked at, in their fearful desire to resolve the issues yesterday, or sooner, I found some lines of scripture rising in my thoughts. They are from Matthew’s Gospel, in the version called The Message, a paraphrase written by a scholar named Eugene Peterson. They come from a part we call the Beatitudes, in which Jesus describes how we are blessed. We will come to a different version of this speech as found in Luke’s gospel in a few weeks. In Matthew Jesus says,

 “You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.

⁴ “You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.

⁵ “You’re blessed when you’re content with just who you are—no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.

⁶ “You’re blessed when you’ve worked up a good appetite for God. He’s food and drink in the best meal you’ll ever eat.

⁷ “You’re blessed when you care. At the moment of being ‘care-full,’ you find yourselves cared for.

⁸ “You’re blessed when you get your inside world—your mind and heart—put right. Then you can see God in the outside world. Amen

 

 

 

Today we really get to begin the 40 Sundays with Jesus journey that I have been talking about. The story of Jesus being baptized is a great starting place, because it is seen as the launch of his public life. He joined the crowds of people who came to the bank of the Jordan River to hear John the Baptist preach his fiery sermons.

Jesus was Jewish. The fact he went to hear John preach suggests that he was making an effort to be a faithful Jew.

As I studied the story this week, it stood out powerfully that “After all the people were baptized, Jesus was baptized.”

He was not the only person baptized that day. Jesus was part of a large crowd, all of whom were baptized. They were not baptized into the Christian church, because that did not actually exist yet. They were Jews being called to a life of faithfulness, and offered a way to have a fresh start.

Jesus was about thirty at the time of his baptism. He had lived a lot of years since being a newborn in a manger, and from that time when he was twelve, and hung out in the Jerusalem temple, talking about God with the teachers of religion.

What did he do for those 18 years, from that time in the temple, to this moment in the Jordan River?

It is intriguing, and challenging to think of Jesus as needing or wanting a fresh start. That makes him seem a lot more human than he is sometimes described. There is a hint here that like all of us, Jesus, and all the other people gathered at the river that day needed to be reminded of who God had created them to be.

Think for a moment about your own life. Where were you at age thirty? What were you doing? Were you ready for a washing clean, a fresh start? Did you have a clear sense of who you were, and what God wanted you to be? Do you have that now?

John the Baptist was a kind of wild man of the desert, a prophet in the Old Testament tradition. He was not afraid to point out when people’s lives had gone off the straight and narrow path. That could be a very unpopular thing to do. Herod, the Roman appointed ruler, had John put in jail for publicly criticizing him.

The scene in which Jesus is baptized, and the heavens open, and the Holy Spirit comes down upon him is often described as the moment Jesus graduates from a quiet life, in obscurity, to a very public life, of preaching and teaching.

I heard a story this week about a young man who had led a kind of wild life. He had a lot of money, and many grown up toys. He did not have to work, and had more free time than many people. He was also very lonely, and at times, drank too much.

He was also a person with a deep spiritual hunger and curiosity. He was looking for more in life, and that led him to walk into a church one Sunday. It was a non-denominational congregation led by a husband and wife team of co-pastors. They had this small, struggling congregation in Mississauga, and they were also involved in mission work in an especially poor area in North West Haiti.

The congregation met in a building that used to be a United Church, and had a very small congregation, made up mostly of seniors. When the co-pastors saw a man in his late twenties walk in, they were thrilled. One of them actually said out loud, “Thank God, someone to help.’

It turned out the young man stuck around, and began to help. Before long he was teaching Bible study, and helping with the sound system at the church, and going to Haiti on mission trips. Something in him responded to being needed to help, and he blossomed. He found himself.

That is an important and powerful thing, to discover who you are meant to be, who you are in God’s eyes, and to find your purpose in life.

This congregation practiced baptism by full immersion, and the old church building they were renting does not have running water, never mind a baptismal tank. The young man invited the congregation to use the pool at his condo for a baptismal service.

Have you ever seen that kind of baptism? The person walks in, or is standing in water that may be above their waist. The baptizer is in there with them, and the baptism is not just a sprinkling on the top of the head with a few drops the way we often do it.

The candidate for baptism is literally dunked under. In some traditions they are pushed in backwards, and totally submerged in the water. They are not held down, but they go all the way in, so that they are completely under water.

As a person who does not even like to put my head in the water when I swim, I would find this style of baptism a bit terrifying. My mind might know I was going to be all right, but I would be anxious.

If you are able, and willing, try an experiment with me. I am going to use my watch to time us for 20 seconds as we hold our breath.

That’s not very long, and it is probably longer than you’d have to hold your breath to be baptized. But it is about long enough to remind us how it feels to not breathe.

I prefer to breathe. My body resists holding my breath. It instinctively knows what it needs.

But you would have to hold your breath if you were being baptized by John in the Jordan River. You might also close your eyes, in case the water wasn’t clean. A lot of other people may have been dipped in that part of the river.

The experience, and the symbolism would be powerful. A total rinsing off of the dust and dirt, and messiness of life up to that point, and a rising up out of the water, with a commitment to live a new kind of life. Terror, and then relief, and perhaps joy, as you rose up out of the water.

That is what happened to Jesus, in the Jordan River. The story tells us that after Jesus was baptized, the heavens opened, the dove of the Holy Spirit came down, and a voice said to him, “You are my Son, chosen and marked by my love, pride of my life.”

Another translation says, “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”

One of the ways the Christian church has understood baptism is as a moment to participate in the mysteries of Jesus life, his death, and his resurrection.

The person totally submerged for baptism is for a moment, cut off from life around them.

They are like an unborn child, in those few seconds, except without the umbilical cord to provide all they need for life.

There is at once a hint of death, or the risk of it, and the reminder of what it is like for each of us, before we leave the safety of the womb, and enter the world. The water is at the same time, a womb, and a reminder of the tomb in which Jesus was laid, after he was killed on the cross.

Then the person rises up out of the water breathless, and is able again to breathe, and it suggests coming back to life, or being born.

There is a lot of powerful symbolism there, that we may only catch a glimpse of in the way we tend to do baptisms.

I heard the story of this young man’s baptism from his father, who is not a regular church goer, but who attended the service held at the condo pool, when his son was being baptized. When his son had been baptized, and was getting out of the pool, he slipped on the wet deck, and almost broke his leg.

The father said his son was sore for a few days, but not seriously hurt. That little story, of falling on the wet deck is a reminder that this business of baptism, of life, and death, and new life, is risky.

Life itself is risky. You never know what’s going to happen. Did Jesus know what would happen in his life, after he submitted to John’s baptism?

The father told me this story of his son’s baptism, while we were standing together at the reception after his son’s funeral. The baptism he described happened about 7 years ago. The young man died tragically just after New Year’s, and I helped with his funeral this week.

There was of course a great deal of sadness over this young man’s death. But in the midst of this, I also heard that the happiest, most fulfilling part of his short life began when he joined that little church, was baptized, and grew into a new understanding of his purpose. He found his identity as a beloved child of God, when he began to live a life that was about serving God, by helping others.

It is so good that he found that little church, and found out who he was meant to be, while he could do something about it.

This morning we have the opportunity in the service to re-affirm the vows of baptism, and to remember again who we are, in God’s eyes. We are, each of us, beloved children of God. Amen

 

A long time ago, in a Galilee far away, or more accurately, a Syria far away, forces of an immense evil empire, at the behest of a power-mad and insecure ruler, attacked and killed scores of innocent, vulnerable people. This is part of our gospel story this morning. It is sadly, also part of the news of the world that comes to us every day. It also resembles one of the first big action scenes in The Force Awakens, episode seven of the Star Wars movie franchise. As I sat with my kids, and some friends, on five dollar Tuesday at Film.ca, I saw the old, old story, or nightmare of fear, abuse of power, and violence against the innocent acted out on screen. The forces of evil came in to destroy a whole village of innocent people, in an effort to root out a threat to the power of their Emperor. (show clip from trailer)

I was 16 when the first Star Wars movie came out, and I loved it. Star Wars movies are like opera, or ancient mythology, or comic books. These art forms often tell a story of the universal conflict of good versus evil, and of ordinary people who find themselves caught in the middle. That really is an unbeatable combination.

I remember going to a hardware store in Windsor with our landlord, a wise, practical, chain-smoking, hard-working, big-hearted old Ukrainian man. Windsor was then, and is still, pretty much a blue-collar town, with a mix of cultures and ethnicities. Most people I met there were fairly open to diversity.

John and I were looking for a kit to install an air conditioner in an attic window. The store clerk had trouble understanding what John wanted, and maybe couldn’t get it all through his accent. It was a frustrating conversation, and we ended up looking elsewhere. As we walked away, we heard the clerk mutter “stupid bohunk”.

John was such a good man. He must have read my face, because I really wanted to go back and have words with the clerk. John shook his head, and gave a look that seemed to express both gratitude for my indignation, and resignation to the cruelty and ignorance of some people.

John said, “Whaddaya gonna do?”

We went on with our mission, picked up what we needed at another store, and installed the air conditioner. It was one of those times when an elder’s wisdom won out. But I still would not have minded having a light saber.

John was right, I think, to have us walk away from the guy in the hardware store. Who knows why the clerk spat out his racial hatred in that moment. As the Scottish Presbyterian theologian Ian McLaren wrote, “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.”

People face all kinds of hard battles.

The folks fleeing Syria face the devastation of their home towns, and the rigours of hard travel, and the challenges of starting again, if they can make their way to a safe refuge.

Hospitals and care facilities are filled with folks who struggle with illness, and aging. Families face tough decisions about the care of loved ones. Ailments, accidents, diseases, and illnesses come upon people, and cause devastation with little warning. There is the general creeping along of mortality, as we all age, and face death.

Economic forces mess with people’s lives. The price of a barrel of oil goes up or down a few dollars, and there are either new jobs, or big layoffs.

Huge fuel oil burning container ships stain the water of our oceans, and sully our air, and contribute to global warming. They bring us thousands of tons of cheap consumer goods from places where the workers can’t afford to buy what they make for us.

Executives in the head office of a corporation make decisions to protect the price of their shares, and workers and their families hundreds or thousands of miles away lose their jobs, their security, their health benefits.

Power-drunk military and political leaders strike out against each other, wielding armies like pawns on a chess board, and using ideology and fear, and bad theology to justify their insanity.

There is so much that seems beyond our control, that just happens to us.

It can be quite soothing to read a story, or watch an epic movie with characters with whom we can identify. They are a little bit like us, except they may have the help of magic, or aliens, or fate, or the force and a light saber, and so they can join in the struggle, and make a difference as the forces of good battle the forces of evil. There is vicarious satisfaction in seeing good guys, and gals win. It can warm our hearts to see a lonely orphan child on a desolate desert planet discover their destiny as a hero who will help save a galaxy from an evil fate.

Last week I said I want to focus on teaching about Jesus, and hopefully, dig down through some of the layers of tradition and interpretation, and decoration and embellishment piled on to his story over two millennia. Today we celebrate Epiphany, which is one of the oldest, and I think one of the brightest and best traditions of the early church.

The story the church draws on for Epiphany is the visit of the Magi. Even though Jesus is the heart and reason for the story, most of the action does not directly involve him. This is a bit like an opening scene, or establishing shot in a movie, meant to offer us context. What world is baby Jesus born into?

It is a world in which rich and powerful people make decisions that cause poor people to leave their homes, and seek shelter against the cold night. It is a world in which an evil ruler can hatch plots against real or imagined enemies. It is a world in which violence is perpetrated against innocent and defenseless children. It is a world in which it is possible to feel insignificant, helpless to make things better. In other words, it is our world.

The gospels bring the Good News about God’s love for all people, and were written for people like us, living in a world in which there are many hard battles.

Epiphany is the English word that comes from ancient Greek words “Epi-phanos”, which translate roughly as “manifestation” or “appearance” or “making known”. It means that something previously hidden has been revealed. A sunrise is a kind of epiphany, a moment when darkness is sliced open by light- like a light saber.

The word epiphany gets used in non-religious ways to point to a moment in which something suddenly becomes clear. A good example is when the apple fell on Isaac Newton, and he had a sudden insight into the existence of gravity. There is a similar story about Albert Einstein struck as a young child by being given a compass, and realizing that some unseen force was making it move.

In the Gospel according to Thomas, an interesting, and strange, and mystical text that did not make it into the New Testament, Jesus is quoted as saying, “I’m the light that’s over everything. I am everything; it’s come from me and unfolds toward me. “Split a log; I’m there. Lift the stone, and you’ll find me there.”

That is a way of expressing the startling news of the Incarnation, the claim the Christian church has made almost from the beginning, that one of the things we learn from Jesus is that God is not distant, and uninvolved, looking down on us from some lofty height. God is with us in the midst of this reality. We don’t wait until we die and depart this existence to meet God. God is in the apples, and compass needles, and in the light, and in the split logs, and in the vulnerable child of Bethlehem, and in you and I. This is not to say that you are God, or that I am. The poetry of the Incarnation says to us that God is here, with us. God is with us, and there is hope. Amen

 

 

 

 

 

We are getting closer to the celebration of the birth of Jesus, so it seems a good timing that the scripture reading for Sunday shows us Mary. We see her on a visit to her cousin Elizabeth, who is also pregnant.

Elizabeth told Mary that at the sound of her greeting, the child in her womb leaped for joy. Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit, and said to her cousin, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.”

Mary began the speech for which she is famous. In English we read the opening line as “My soul magnifies the Lord”. In latin, the first word is Magnificat, which is related to the word “magnify”, and means praise. Mary sang that her spirit rejoiced in God, her Saviour. To rejoice means to see joy, or to feel joy, to be joyful.

Today we lit the Advent candle for Joy. It is an invitation to ponder what we mean, when we use that word. I used my Facebook page this week to reach out and ask for definitions.

One of my preacher friends said they had been musing about the same question all week. Another minister friend said joy is having a guest preacher.

Candy, who often guest preaches here, said Joy is her middle name, and it’s been passed on to her daughter and granddaughter. For her, joy is in playing with her grandchildren.

Linda, a church musician friend from Manitoba, whose daughter Jody visited Trinity this fall, wrote, “It’s the feeling you have when you are so involved with something that you forget everything else. “ She said, “that’s what music does for me.”

A woman I met this past summer at a writing conference sent a good quote. “Joy is the echo of God’s life in the soul.” That was said originally by a much revered Irish Catholic Bishop named Dom Marmion, who also said that a person’s love for God is measured by their love for their neighbor.

Wendy, a woman I worked with 25 years ago at a Quaker liberal arts college reminded me Joy is also the perky one in the Disney Pixar movie “Inside Out”.

Have you seen Inside Out? By the end of the story, the bouncy, perky, always smiling figure of Joy has discovered there is actually more to life than being “happy” all the time. To be fair, a Disney movie is not really the place for a lot of deep thought, they have to keep things moving.

Peter Kreeft, a philosopher and teacher at Boston College wrote,

“Joy is more than happiness, just as happiness is more than pleasure. Pleasure is in the body. Happiness is in the mind and feelings. Joy is deep in the heart, the spirit, the center of the self.”

It is worth saying that last part again. “Joy is deep in the heart, the spirit, the center of the self.”

The beauty of this way of thinking about Joy is the reminder it offers that Joy is not as dependent on outside circumstances as happiness. So we can imagine Mary, large with child, and possibly heavy with worry about the fate of her child, and her own fate, can still be filled with joy.

Rumi, the 13th-century Persian poet, jurist, Islamic scholar, theologian, and Sufi mystic wrote: “When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy.”

The idea is that the soul, that deepest part of us, is the most connected to God, most aware of what God has in store for us. Our soul can trust in God, even when our mind can give us every reason not to, and even though our feelings can change with every wind that blows.

I recently read some faithful reflections on the topic of living with joy, even when life’s circumstances are challenging. One author said,

“Joy is the settled assurance that God is in control of all the details of my life, the quiet confidence that ultimately everything is going to be alright, and the determined choice to praise God in every situation.”

This author offered a scripture quote to make the connection between reliance on God, trust in God, and real joy:

“We’re depending on God; he’s everything we need. What’s more, our hearts brim with joy since we’ve taken for our own his holy name. Love us, God, with all you’ve got — that’s what we’re depending on.” (Psalm 33:20-22 MSG)

Another author said:

“With the continuous updates on what is happening in our neighborhoods, domestically, and around the world, it is easy to become overwhelmed and overcome with fear. But at times like these, I remember to hold onto my faith…. We are being tested and asked to rise to the occasion, dig deep, and be our best selves. We are being asked to place our trust in the Creator. We are being asked to respond from a place of love, patience, and faith. “

This writer also quoted scripture to emphasize the point that we are to place our trust in God. They said, “must go on with a greater awareness and even greater confidence and certainty that is God is with me,” offered these two pieces of scripture:

“And God is the Protector of those Who have faith” [Qur’an, 3:68].

“Certainly, We shall test you with fear, hunger, loss of wealth, lives and fruits, but give glad tidings to the patient – those who, when afflicted with calamity say, Truly to God we belong, and truly to Him shall we return” [Qur’an, 2:155-156].

One of the writers I quoted, along with her choice of scripture from the Quran, is a woman from North Carolina, named Sajdah Nubee, who describes herself as “Muslim, African-American, Interfaith Presenter, Blogger, Seeker of Truth, Promoting Consciousness, Driven by Intuition, Tar Heel Born and Bred”.

The other writer I just quoted, along with his quotes from the Bible, is Rick Warren, the founding pastor of one of the largest evangelical churches in North America. He is perhaps most famous for his book the Purpose Driven Life.

What amazed me, and brought me great joy, was how similar these two authors sound. They come from very different ethnic, cultural and religious backgrounds. They honour different traditions, and read different scriptures. They even have different names for God, and different ideas about how God is at work in the world. Even so, I hear in both of them the common theme that true joy is found in placing our trust in God. Amen

 

Your party is about to get rolling. The food smells great, the house is lit up, shiny clean and decorated for Christmas, and guests are arriving. You are setting up to serve drinks when that neighbour comes to the door. The one who has loud, mid-week, late night parties all summer, who burns garbage in the back yard, and whose recycling and compost are always knocked over and strewn on the street. He is at your door asking you to push his car out of a snow drift. You smell holiday cheer on his breath, and are not surprised he got stuck, but what are you going to do?

A peek out your door, and around your neighbour reveals his car is blocking half the road in front of his house, and yours. It’s not even that there is a lot of snow. It’s more that the tires on his old junker are bald. You are pretty sure if you get him moving, he’ll just slide into trouble again. He’s that neighbour. So what are you going to do?

You throw on your coat, step in to your boots, and get out there. After he pulls the car in his driveway, you notice his house is dark. You remember his last partner left him when he got laid off, and his grown kids never visit. You invite him over for a hot drink and a bite to eat, hoping he will decline. But he doesn’t. He follows you home, and dominates the party with very strong, and very loud opinions on politics, and explicit details of last week’s episode of “Orange is the new black”.

Your nice holiday party has taken a turn for the unexpected.

Today’s gospel readings connect us to John the Baptist, who always seems to me an unexpected, and possibly unwelcome intruder in the days leading up to Christmas.

The first reading quotes Zechariah, on the occasion of John’s birth. Zechariah expected big things from his son, who was a kind of miracle baby. Zechariah and his wife Elizabeth are described as both old and childless. It was not expected that they would be expecting. The angel told Zechariah that Elizabeth would bear a son who would be a prophet who would, “make ready a people prepared for the Lord.”

Zechariah found this hard to believe. The angel said because he did not believe, he wouldn’t be able to speak until the baby was born. When the baby was born, Zechariah regained the power of speech, and declared his son would be called John, and that he would,

“go on before the Lord to prepare the way for him, ⁷⁷ to give his people the knowledge of salvation     through the forgiveness of their sins, ⁷⁸ because of the tender mercy of our God,     by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven ⁷⁹ to shine on those living in darkness     and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace.”

Our second gospel reading shows John all grown up, travelling around the Jordan, “proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” He is preparing the way, getting the people ready for the big thing coming, which is Jesus. Which is why in the season of Advent, as we prepare to celebrate Jesus’ birth, we end up with John the Baptist at our pre-Christmas party.

Maybe we come to church to help us get into the holiday mood. We want to hear a nice story about baby Jesus, and maybe a drummer boy. The stable is not perfect, but Mary and Joseph make it cozy, and god bless us everyone!

John the Baptist stomps on the scene, as if to say, hey, don’t get too comfortable! There are big problems, in your life, and in the world. Stop sinning. Get more exercise. Turn your life around. Spend less on yourself, and give to good causes. Stop expecting so much, and sharing so little.

In the same way we know we should probably be kind to our annoying neighbour, we probably also know, deep in our hearts that crazy eyed, wild haired John the Baptist is right.

But wouldn’t be great to get through one December without having all the violence and sadness and pain of the world in our face? Why does hardship and difficulty always interrupt our happy interludes, and puncture the illusion that all is right with the world?

We have been hearing stories about the deaths of aboriginal women in every Canadian province and territory that go largely ignored. We are hearing governments negotiate over efforts to slow global warming, but without sacrificing economic growth. We watch reports about hundreds of thousands of refugees risking their lives to flee their homes, and walk across Europe in search of safe refuge. Our relative calm is interrupted with stories of horrific mass shootings in the U.S., and apparently racist, misogynist, fear-mongering bullies competing for the right to run that country.

The story about John the Baptist, and the story of Jesus are told, and retold, to remind us that God is at work in the world. This is a hopeful message, because it reminds that things will not remain as they are. That is also a disturbing message, because things will not remain as they are.

It is easier for us, in our part of the world, to wish for things to stay mostly the same. Most of us live in safe places, have what we need to live, and some extra. We do not usually go to bed hungry, and we have a bed to go to.

I know there are poor people, and refugees, and climate change and all kinds of cruelty and injustice in the world. But I feel helpless to fix all that, and just want some peace, some quiet joy, and maybe some assurance that I do not have to feel guilty all the time, for living in a relatively safe, relatively quiet, mostly good place. Can’t we just have some peace?

Today we lit the candle for Peace. It may help to look at what we mean. Peace is the word often used in place of the Hebrew word Shalom, which means a lot more than the absence of war. Shalom is about the movement towards being on good terms with the whole of everything: God, ourselves, other people, and the world around us. Shalom is a work in progress. The word Shalom is also used as a greeting, and a blessing. In Hebrew, people say, “Shalom aleichem “ which means “well-being be upon you” or “may you be well”.

The concept of Shalom reminds us to work towards being in right relations with God and with ourselves. That is the way towards spiritual peace, which is a needed thing when we are also working towards restored relations with other people, and with the world we live in.

By ourselves, we can’t fix everything that needs fixing in the whole world. I am still pondering the little story we heard last week about the man walking along an ocean shore, stopping every once in a while to rescue beached starfish, and toss them back into the water. Watch this video: Starfish story

There is inner peace, spiritual peace, available to us when we seek to be in closer relations, right relations with God, and to take up the part of the work of Shalom that is for us to do.

The beach is a great symbolic representation of life in the world. It is a kind of in-between place, that is changing all the time. We stay there long enough and we see powerful forces at work, that are beyond our control. We look more closely and see little things we could do, to help, We start to discern where the starfish are, and what is needed to help them. We can feel a certain peace when we know that we are doing what we are able to do, as part of God’s bigger wholeness. Shalom.