Monday 30 March 2015

A Thought For The Week Of March 30

"Now I tell you to love each other, as I have loved you." (John 15:12) I find this to be one of the most meaningful verses in all of Scripture - challenging and comforting at the same time, which is surely the purpose of God's Word. This is a tall order, perhaps, but understandable if we read it in the context of Jesus' entire life. How did Jesus love his disciples? He gave himself for them - up to and including his life - an event we mark this Friday. Jesus, of course, doesn't expect us to go to the extreme of dying for our faith in him (although some tragically do) but he's clearly saying that anyone who truly wants to be his follower has to be willing to incur some sort of cost. What the cost will be is contextual. It depends on where you are and on what the surrounding culture is like, but there should be some sort of cost involved in being a disciple of Jesus. Jesus also said in verse 14 that "you are my friends if you obey me." That sounds rather legalistic, and not at all grace-filled. But, again in context, I don't believe that Jesus was speaking of obedience in a moralistic sense, to control people's behaviour. Rather, it's an ethical concept, an attempt to instill a certain attitude in his followers: a loving attitude; a desire to give for the sake of those around us. Jesus' command, after all, was to "love each other, as I have loved you." It's a call to self-giving love for the sake of the other. It's not moralistic. It's not "you must do this" or "you must not do that." It's simply a call to put the needs of others ahead of our own needs, and to be willing to pay a price to help meet the needs of others. That's tough to do, and it's not really in keeping with the way society functions - which is probably why Jesus also says in verse 18 that the world will hate his followers. The world will hate anything that offers a different vision or a different priority.

Sunday 29 March 2015

March 29 2015 sermon - The Power Of Palm Sunday

The next day the great crowd that had come to the festival heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem. So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, shouting, "Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord - the King of Israel!" Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it; as it is written: "Do not be afraid, daughter of Zion. Look, your king is coming, sitting on a donkey’s colt!" His disciples did not understand these things at first; but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that these things had been written of him and had been done to him.
(John 12:12-16)

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      I’m intrigued by the words "the next day." It’s how our reading today begins. "The next day." So it was the day after. But - the day after what? We’re reading John’s Gospel, John’s version of the events we know today as Palm Sunday. I checked back over the last 11 years and discovered that I’ve never actually used John’s version of the Palm Sunday story with you before. I suppose that really isn’t all that much of an oversight. When you compare John’s version of the story to Matthew’s, or Mark’s or Luke’s - it’s really not that much different. Same basic story, same events. Jesus arrives in Jerusalem, he’s hailed by the crowds who greet him with palm branches, Jesus then sits upon a lowly donkey and enters the city. It’s Palm Sunday as we’ve always known it. And if I had read the account from any of the other three Gospels, it would have been basically the same. In fact, Palm Sunday is one of the few stories that’s recorded in basically the same terms in all four of the Gospels - so that’s a sign that the event really did happen in basically the way it was written. The different Gospel writers didn’t spend much time editing it or interpreting it. It was a real event that was seen as important enough to be preserved. So there you have it. This is what happened a few days before Jesus would be arrested, tried and crucified. He was welcomed, as all of us who have ever taken note of Palm Sunday know, by cheering crowds hailing him as a King; as the Messiah. So why do I care that this is John’s version rather than any of the others? Why do I take note of the fact that I’ve never used John’s account of Palm Sunday here before? Well, it’s worth noting because - even if this story is basically the same one you find elsewhere - John’s Gospel is different. That’s what makes John’s version of Palm Sunday noteworthy. It’s not that John’s version of Palm Sunday is different; it’s that John’s Gospel is different - and that perhaps puts a different spin on the story than we’re accustomed to.

      In both Matthew and Mark, there’s a long, extended period of Jesus teaching his disciples along with a series of parables right before Jesus enters Jerusalem, capped off with a very quickly and only barely described healing miracle. Luke chooses to ignore the healing miracle altogether and has two chapters of Jesus’ teaching right before the Palm Sunday event. Now, of course I’m not saying that Jesus’ teaching isn’t important, but I find it fascinating that John doesn’t include much teaching in his story leading up to Palm Sunday. So, "the next day" - the day after what? - is a key to understanding what John is trying to say; what point John is trying to make for his readers. What actually happens before Palm Sunday in John’s Gospel? In John, you have the story of Lazarus.

      Lazarus is the key to understanding what John’s Gospel is all about. Lazarus is at the centre of John’s Gospel. Everything else in John’s Gospel revolves around Lazarus. In the other three Gospels, the central event is Peter’s confession of faith - as he says to Jesus, "You are the Christ, the Son of God." Words are the centrepiece of the story there. A confession of faith; a proclamation of who Jesus was; an expression of faith. But not for John. Action and miracles are the centrepiece of John’s account of Jesus’ life, and it revolves around Lazarus - a friend of Jesus who gets sick, who dies, and who is raised from the dead by Jesus as an expression of the power that Jesus possesses. Now think of the Palm Sunday story in that context.

      We usually focus on Palm Sunday as a show of humility by Jesus. He’s hailed as a king, yes, but he rides a donkey - a lowly beast - into the city rather than a horse, an animal more fit for a king. And, in John, the donkey is still there, and it’s still the same symbol - but Jesus seems not quite so powerless in John’s version - because of the Lazarus event. In the other Gospels there’s already a sense of tragedy about the entry into Jerusalem - as if the battle is already lost. We want to skip ahead. We want to get to resurrection; we want to fast forward to Easter. We want to avoid Good Friday. But in John’s Gospel - if we’ve read it in context - we’re braced for a battle. Think of the last few verses that came immediately before John’s Palm Sunday story:

A large crowd … found out that Jesus was there and came, not only because of him but also to see Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead.

      So there’s already a sense of wonder here - about Lazarus who’s come back from death and about Jesus who brought him back. And then the account continues:

So the chief priests made plans to kill Lazarus as well, for on account of him many … were going over to Jesus and putting their faith in him.

      A battle is breaking out - between Jesus and his opponents, but also between those whom Jesus came for and those who choose to follow Jesus (including Lazarus) and the religious leaders of the day who didn’t want anything to happen to upset the apple cart. Lazarus - and all those who follow Jesus - are almost as much of a threat to the establishment as Jesus himself. And, for John, there is the crux of Palm Sunday - not the humble king riding into Jerusalem to die meekly on a cross, but the powerful Messiah who’s going to upset a lot of apple carts before and after that happens! For Matthew, Mark and Luke the Jesus of Palm Sunday is almost a tragic figure riding to his death; for John the Jesus of Palm Sunday is a conquering figure who will not be beaten down by any earthly power and who cannot be contained by any religion. I want to suggest that this is the Jesus we need in the church today; this is the understanding of Palm Sunday we need in the church today.

      If Jesus and his original followers were a threat to the established order of the day, then what happened? Are we seen as a threat today? Are we seen as a challenge to the established social order today? Are we seen as those who stand against the powerful on behalf of the oppressed? And, even if we do those things in some ways - are we seen as those who are willing to take a risk for standing up for the way of Jesus and for standing out in the crowd?

 There’s the power and challenge of Palm Sunday - it’s an encouragement to stand up, to stand out, to be noticed, to take risks and to try to make a difference in the world around us.

Monday 23 March 2015

A Thought For The Week Of March 23

"John tried to stop him. He said, `I need to be baptized by you. Why do you come to me to be baptized?'" (Matthew 3:14) John might have been the Baptist, but he didn't want to baptize Jesus. That much is clear - and it's even understandable. Why would Jesus need John's baptism? It was, after all, "a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sin" - and Jesus was without sin. Except that, on the cross, well, Paul would later write that Jesus "became sin" in order that sin could be finally defeated. Jesus may not have had anything to repent of, and he may not have committed any sin, but sin would play a huge part in his earthly life, nevertheless. So, perhaps Jesus' motives for wanting to be baptized aren't that much different than the symbolism John spoke of, or the symbolism we use today when we baptize - baptism represents the cleansing from sin - past and future. For Jesus, sin would come - the sins of others, which would undoubtedly stain him, and eventually lead him to the cross and to an agonizing death. So, perhaps, rather than concerning ourselves with why Jesus needed to be baptized, we should ask why John was so reluctant? Didn't John understand the important role he was being asked to play? He may have - but apparently his problem was that he felt unworthy. Jesus could baptize him, but conceiving of things the other way around seemed foreign; unimaginable in fact. Sometimes, still today, we criticize people for not serving - or for not serving well enough, or for not serving long enough. There is an old saying that 10% of the people do 90% of the work. If true - and while that may be a bit extreme, it points to a truth - we need to ask why that is.Perhaps it's not that people aren't committed enough. Maybe they just don't feel worthy enough to serve Jesus. Maybe it's hard for them to conceive that Jesus needs our service. Maybe we're a bit like John the Baptist - who also didn't feel worthy to do what Jesus asked him to do. Jesus had to convince him. Perhaps people are demonstrating faith and trust (in a strange way) by not offering their service more generously, and perhaps the proper role of the church is to convince people that they do, indeed - every one of us - have a valuable service to offer to Jesus. After all, whatever we do for the least of those around us - we do for Jesus. It isn't what service we offer to Jesus, it's that we offer service to Jesus that counts.

Wednesday 18 March 2015

Explaining The Decision To Move On

I announced to my congregation this past Sunday that after more than 10 years the time has come for a move. I've accepted a call to Pickering Village United Church in Ajax. I have very mixed emotions about the decision. A new and fresh start is exciting, and a new congregation will be challenging, but 10 years is a long time and Port Colborne and Central United Church feel very much like home to me and to my family, and the thought of living somewhere else and being in relationship with a new community of faith is, frankly, strange. This time in Port Colborne is the longest my wife and I have ever lived in one place, and Port Colborne is the only home my daughter has ever known, so the idea of starting over in a new place is also a bit sad. But it's what the ministry is. A journey; a progression of comings and goings. Establishing deep roots, but then having to move on - the better for the experiences one has had in a particular place. Central and Port Colborne have helped me to grow as a pastor, and I've learned a great deal from my time here. But there's always a time to move on. I start at Pickering Village in July, so I have three and a half months to finish well here. Part of finishing well is explaining the decision to move on.

I've had folks ask me since my announcement "why are you leaving?" Some seem to think I'm upset about something. I'm not. Some seem to think that those who don't care for either me and/or my ministry have finally pushed me out. They haven't. Am I aware of criticism? Yes, I am. It goes with the territory. Frankly, no one should go into ministry unless they have a very thick skin, because you'll always hear far more criticism than commendation. As churches decline in numbers it's inevitable that some people will blame the minister for not preaching well enough or not visiting enough people or not working hard enough or not being available enough. Overall, Central has held its own in numbers. There's been some decline, but relatively speaking we've done not badly. Still, we're not in the congregation's glory days anymore, and people who've been around for a while realize that and a few do choose to pointedly mention it from time to time. But, as I said, that goes with the territory. You have to let that bounce off you. Thick skin and all. And the simple truth is that once you preach your first sermon someone isn't going to like it and will say so. I've been here for 10+ years, so there's been lots of time for people to decide they don't like me or my style or my preaching or my priorities or my wardrobe or my haircut or whatever. And they've had more than enough time to get tired of my faults and weaknesses and mistakes, which are more than a few in all honesty. But those who don't like me or who are just tired of me seem to be a small minority and there's no move to push me out that I know of. Just normal background criticism from time to time. And in fact, our Council have been tremendously loyal to me and to the rest of our staff. And I like it here and my family likes it here. So, why move?

One always looks for signs of God's call. Without going into detail, those have been there on a variety of fronts for the last year or two and so I've been testing the waters as appropriate opportunities have arisen. Pickering Village seemed a fit for me - and I seemed a fit for them. So we sat down together and we made it work.

But the real question was whether my ministry here was complete. (1) Had I accomplished the things that I felt needed to be accomplished? I felt I had. (2) Do I have a vision of what I want to accomplish in the next 2 or 3 years? That was getting murky. I wasn't sure what more I could do, given my gifts and skills and talents and given the needs of the congregation. If you can't come up with some sort of plan, then you risk starting to simply spin your wheels, and that doesn't help either you or the congregation. In this case, I think my ministry will be more effective in a new surrounding, and I think my departure will help the congregation avoid its own wheel-spinning by requiring that they do some serious thinking about the future. And Central has had a very long tenured staff (and not just the ministry staff but the support/admin staff as well.) That, I think, is a positive thing and it says something about the congregation that staff choose to stay on. It's a good place to be. Still, every now and then some new blood might be appropriate. I could have kept on keeping on for another year or two or three, but I'm not sure that would have been productive for anyone.

Finally, I've always told newer ministers that your goal in terms of longevity has to be to stay long enough to do what you're called to do, but it also has to be to leave before the congregation wants you to leave. (Wheel spinning comes after the former and before the latter.) I've seen congregations force ministers out because they perceive that the time has come for a change but the minister disagrees. In that situation the hammer is always with the congregation quite frankly, but the process of pushing a minister out is not pretty and it does a lot of damage and it causes a lot of hurt both ways. You definitely don't want to get to that point. I had dropped a few hints to a few people over the last year or so but, still, after I announced this decision on Sunday, there were a lot of gasps and a lot of tears. That was touching. There were also a couple of people who seemed angry with me for leaving. That's also touching in its own way. And there was no applause and no cries of "Hallelujah!" All that makes me believe that I pulled off the "leave before they want you to leave" part effectively.

So, that's my story and my decision making process, surrounded by a lot of prayer from me and from people who knew I was looking at options.

One thing I want to stress is that it's not that I think I'm going someplace "better." I love this place and the people and the community. It doesn't get "better" than this, quite honestly. But it is time. It's just time for a change if I wanted to continue to do meaningful ministry rather than settling into wheel-spinning just because I'm too comfortable to move on.

Eventually in every ministry the time comes. By the end of June I'll have served Central for just short of 10 and a half years. That makes me the second longest serving minister in the 160 year history of the congregation. That's kind of mind-boggling. To make it to Number One I'd have to be here 10 more years! That's mind-boggling too. And not realistic. No. The time has come. It's nothing more than that.

Sunday 15 March 2015

March 15 2015 sermon: God's Purpose

“And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life. For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved. He who believes in Him is not condemned; but he who does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. And this is the condemnation, that the light has come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For everyone practicing evil hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his deeds should be exposed. But he who does the truth comes to the light, that his deeds may be clearly seen, that they have been done in God.”
(John 3:14-21)

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     There’s been a lot of focus in recent years in the Christian publishing industry about things being “purpose-driven.” It was Pastor Rick warren who introduced the term. It all started in 1995 with a book called “The Purpose Driven Church.” The book quickly became popular, and it spawned sequels. There’s “The Purpose Driven Life,” “Purpose Driven Youth Ministry,” “Purpose Driven Youth,” “Purpose Driven Worship.” Rick Warren’s daughter Jamie Lynn Warren added a children’s book into the mix called “The Purpose Driven Donkey.” Now, there’s nothing really wrong with this trend, I suppose. It’s an attempt to put some meaning into faith for people, so that faith doesn’t become just a set of propositions but a life-changing quest for - you guessed it - purpose. If you look at “The Purpose Driven Life,” Warren helpfully tells us what our five purposes are: as Christians, we are to offer real worship, to enjoy real fellowship, to learn real discipleship, to practice real ministry and to live out real evangelism. You’re not going to find me arguing against any of that. And yet, still, the whole “purpose-driven” trend troubles me a little bit, because it fixates on our purpose. And the question occurs to me - are we really looking for our purpose? Wouldn't that make things a little too me-centred? But then again, we must have a purpose, or God wouldn't have created us. How, then, do we define our purpose? I would suggest that we don’t really need a 40 day plan to discover what our purpose is. What we really need to do is reflect on God’s purpose. If Jesus is our example, then we think in reference to, say, John 6:38, where Jesus said that “I have come down from heaven not to do my will but to do the will of him who sent me." It seems to me that, like Jesus, we discover our true purpose simply in doing God’s will, and in nothing else. So what is God’s purpose?

     We don’t really seem to think very much about God’s purpose. I’ve noticed in doing some research on the internet that when you google “God’s purpose” what you come up with is a whole lot of Rick Warren-like stuff - so that it becomes not God’s own purpose, but rather God’s purpose for us or our purpose in God. It’s almost as if people think that it’s not proper for us to be trying to understand God’s own purpose; as if it’s too lofty for us to try to grasp and too mysterious for us to truly understand anyway. But I don’t think so. I think we can begin to glean God’s purpose in creation itself - not the biblical story of creation, but just the fact that creation exists. God didn’t create because God was bored. God had a purpose in creating, and it seems to me that God’s purpose was to be in relationship with those whom he created. Relationship is the centre of God’s purpose. Relationship with us - with you and with me. I see that divine purpose shown in the Christmas story: the coming of God to earth in human flesh to dwell among us, to be with us. I see that divine purpose shown in the Easter story: the willingness of God to submit to suffering and death just as we sometimes have to do, but the promise of God found in the resurrection of Jesus, a promise that tells us that there is no end - that there’s only change, change that brings us ever closer to God; into an ever deeper relationship with God. I see that divine purpose shown in our Scripture reading today.

     Most people can cite John 3:16 from memory: “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” But most people stop there. You really have to go on to John 3:17, which is in many ways the key to understanding everything said before and everything said after: "for God did not send his Son to condemn the world but so that the world through him might be saved."

     Here is the purpose of God clearly shown again - “that the world through him might be saved.” Saved from what? Well, traditional Christian language would say saved from sin, but you have to understand what that means. Sin is that which separates us from God. Sin is that which destroys our relationship with God. Sin is that which erects a barrier between ourselves and God. Sin is that which God wants to overcome. Breaking down barriers is what God wants to do. God's purpose is the salvation of the world; it’s returning the world to the state God wants the world to be in. That’s the message of Scripture from beginning to end - the world started as God wanted it to be; we pretty much messed it up; God seeks to return it to the state God wants it to be in, where everything exists at peace with God and with all else. When I point John 3:17 out in certain circles anyway, I’m always challenged then with John 3:18 - “He who believes in Him is not condemned; but he who does not believe is condemned already …” And I don’t deny that. Those who obstinately refuse God’s outstretched hand may well face consequences, but I still think of that warning in the context of God's ultimate purpose being the salvation of the world. And I place my trust in God. If God’s purpose is that the world be saved through Christ then I trust that it will happen. And understanding that helps us to discern our own purpose as the people of God.

     We find our purpose only in that divine purpose. Our calling, when everything else is stripped away, is to further that purpose of God. How do we do that? We do that by proclaiming grace as the means by which God forgives us, reconciles us and transforms us. We do that by proclaiming hope that things can be better, that challenges can be overcome, that the future need not be feared and that death has been defeated. We do that by proclaiming love as the ultimate divine power that’s given to all, and that will never be taken from us. If you want your life to be defined by a purpose then the best thing to do is to follow the example of Jesus. Make God’s will your will. Make God’s purpose your purpose. “God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.” That’s God’s purpose. Our purpose is to reveal it to the world.

Tuesday 10 March 2015

A Thought For The Week Of March 9

"I tell you, whoever publicly acknowledges me before others, the Son of Man will also acknowledge before the angels of God." (Luke 12:8) It's become rather commonplace in the world today to hear people - even people of faith - make the argument that religion and faith are personal things that shouldn't be talked about publicly, but are just to be lived out privately within home or church. It's an understandable sentiment - even for a person of faith. The truth is that it's generally much easier to live our faith out privately and not talk about it too openly. There's a risk involved if you choose to be too open about your faith. People might not give you a chance. They might not like you, they might not agree with you, they might mock you. You might have to defend yourself and there's at least a chance that you might be ostracized. All these are potential risks if you're too open about what you believe. And - just maybe - that's the point. If there's no risk to faith then it's really all rather meaningless. If there's no potential sacrifice involved with your faith then your faith isn't actually worth very much. To have faith (to believe in something, whatever it is) but not to be willing to talk about it is being inconsistent. To be a Christian - but to try not to be too openly Christian in case some people don't like us sharing? Why? Surely we can't be ashamed of the one we have chosen to follow? I'm not talking about Bible thumping or hitting people over the head with the gospel, or with using God's word as a weapon to threaten people with. I'm just saying that we need to be willing to be open about being disciples of Jesus. Otherwise, being a disciple of Jesus is rather meaningless.

Monday 9 March 2015

March 8 2015 sermon - Fools For God

For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written: “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise; the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate.” Where is the wise person? Where is the teacher of the law? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know him, God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe. Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength.
(1 Corinthians 1:18-25)

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     Have you ever felt like a fool? I mean - really, truly foolish? You consider yourself wise, and certainly wise to the ways of the world, but somehow you got taken in, sucked in, and you couldn’t get out, and afterward you were kicking yourself for it? It’s probably a more common experience than we realize, simply because we beat ourselves up when we act foolishly and we don’t want anyone to know about it. But the truth is that people get taken in all the time. There are scams galore. I was reading in the news just the other day about the famous “microsoft support” scam. You know the one. Someone - usually with a heavy accent - calls your house, tells you that they’re calling from microsoft, and then tells you that your computer has been sending out “error messages.” “Your computer is infected with viruses and malware,” they say. And they can fix it for you! Just give them remote control of your computer and they’ll clean everything up. And, of course, they’ll charge you for doing it - and probably steal a whole bunch of your online passwords while doing it! It’s a scam. It irritates Lynn no end, but I have fun with it. I keep the guys on the line forever. I figure if they’re trying to rip me off they won’t be ripping off anybody else, so I’m performing a public service. But the interesting thing about the article I was reading was that it’s estimated that about 200,000 Canadians every year fall for it. It’s easy to fall for it. These scam artists are pretty good, and they sound quite professional, and they try to scare you by telling you all the horrible things that will happen to you if you don’t buy their service and let them have control of your computer. They’re convincing, so there’s no shame in falling for it. Everybody gets taken in from time to time. All of us. That’s just one example showing how many of us can get so easily taken in. And when it happens we’re often afraid to tell anyone, because we just don’t want to look foolish. That, I think, is one of the most challenging things about being a Christian.

     The simple fact is that if we truly choose to follow the way that God lays before us, we look foolish. “What’s that, Abram? You’re going to leave your home where you’re comfortable and your people whom you know and go - somewhere? And you don’t even know where that is? Foolish.” Or - “What’s that, Moses? You - who haven’t had much experience leading anything except a herd of sheep - are going to lead the entire people of God out of slavery and through a harsh wilderness? What’s got into you? That’s just plain foolish!” Or - “What’s that David? You - a young boy - are going to go into battle against the fiercest warrior our enemies have only carrying a slingshot. You’re a fool!” Or - “What’s that Jesus? You’re going to deliberately engage in a ministry that you know is going to lead to you being killed? That sounds pretty foolish!” Most of us don’t have to go to those extremes, but - still - when we choose to follow God's way, then at best we’re naive do gooders and at worst we’re fools. I mean, really - loving our enemies? Turning the other cheek? It makes no sense. The world rejects the very idea. And never mind loving your enemies. What about loving your neighbours? We live in a society that’s conditioning us to be suspicious of virtually everyone. Between the government and the media we’re being whipped into hysterical fear about terrorism, but the fact is that you’re far more likely to die in a car accident or from an intestinal illness than from a terrorist attack - but we don’t fear driving or eating. But our neighbours? Or immigrants? Especially if they look different? Them we’re afraid of. Jesus says we shouldn’t be. But the world says that the way of Jesus is naive and foolish. And by human wisdom, so it is.

     Paul wrote that “... the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written: ‘I will destroy the wisdom of the wise; the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate.’” Later on in the passage, he puts the same concept more powerfully: “For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength.” The uncomfortable thing about those words for us is that a person who chooses to live according to the way of Jesus is going to be seen by the world as a fool, because we’re going to do things that the world can’t grasp. When we have a confirmation class (as we do this year) I always give them an assignment. I actually think it would be good for all of us to try. I ask them to find the unpopular kid at school or the unpopular person at work - and have lunch with them, and be seen having lunch with them. Nobody would understand. “Why hang around with him or her when you could be with us?” Well - we do foolish-seeming things like that because Jesus did foolish-seeming things like that. He ate with tax collectors and prostitutes and other sinners, and the religious leaders objected: “look at who he eats with. He’s not from God. If he were he’d eat with us.” He counselled people to co-operate with Roman soldiers and to love their enemies, and the people objected: “He’s not fighting against the Romans. He wants us to co-operate with them. He can’t be the Messiah.” People couldn’t understand. People turned away. People rejected Jesus. Ultimately, people crucified Jesus. Because the way of Jesus (the way of the cross) is foolishness to those who don’t know God.

     You see, God's way is so extraordinary and so different from what the world tells us is normal. God's sacred, holy ways which Jesus lived out, astound and astonish the world around us. We look like fools when we live the way Jesus calls us to live. And that’s OK, because “... the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength.”

Monday 2 March 2015

A Thought For The Week Of March 2

"But we must always give thanks to God for you, brothers and sisters beloved by the Lord, because God chose you as the first fruits for salvation through sanctification by the Spirit and through belief in the truth." (2 Thessalonians 2:13) What a wonderful verse this is for emphasizing how important Christian community (and those we're in community with as Christians) is to our faith. We should indeed be thankful for those who are our brothers and sisters in Christ and who have joined us on this faith journey. And I think that the emphasis on being thankful for each other because of what God has done (and not for anything in particular that we've done) is such an important lesson. So, we're not to be thankful for what others Christians do or for what other Christians believe or for how other Christians live; we're just to be thankful for them! Too often, we find that hard to do, and the result is that we fall into judgement of our fellow Christians instead. If they don't believe exactly the way we believe or if they don't do all the same things that we do, or if they do things that we don't do, or if their church services look different than ours - or whatever else we can think of - then instead of being thankful for them, we just decide that they're wrong, or that they're being bad Christians - or, in extreme cases, that they must not be Christians at all, because real Christians would do things the way we do them. Let's be honest. We're always tempted to believe that we're always right! It's part of being human and it's part of having convictions. But when we find ourselves so convinced that we're right that we're tempted to criticize a fellow believer who doesn't agree, maybe we should take some time to reflect on the example of Paul here in 2 Thessalonians, and commit ourselves to just being thankful for our brothers and sisters in the Lord, even if we don't always agree with them.

Sunday 1 March 2015

March 1 2015 sermon: What's So Satanic About Peter?

He then began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and after three days rise again. He spoke plainly about this, and Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But when Jesus turned and looked at his disciples, he rebuked Peter. “Get behind me, Satan!” he said. “You do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.” Then he called the crowd to him along with his disciples and said: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me and for the gospel will save it. What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul? If anyone is ashamed of me and my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of them when he comes in his Father’s glory with the holy angels.”
(Mark 8:31-38)

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     In 1997, the British TV station Channel 4 broadcast a television show called “Didn’t You Used To Be Satan?” It was actually a documentary of sorts; a biopic about the life (to that point) of American actress Linda Blair. Some of you may not know who Linda Blair is, because she doesn’t do much acting any more, and really, in terms of anything significant, her entire acting career came down to one character, in a role she took on at the age of 6 and who she portrayed in two movies. Linda Blair played Regan - the possessed little girl in “The Exorcist” and “Exorcist II.” Now, there are some things that are just so painfully obvious that you don’t have any need to think twice about them. If you ever watch the movie “The Exorcist,” for example, then you know that Regan is Satan in a little girl’s body the moment you see her crawling down the stairs backward in that creepy, spider walk. It’s just obvious. Well, OK. Regan wasn’t possessed by Satan. It was actually a demon who called himself “Mister Howdy” and whose real name was Pazuzu - but I’m pretty sure that he was an acquaintance of Satan! Now, in the movie, Regan was the last person you’d ever expect to be possessed by any type of evil. Regan was a sweet child, she was shy, she was devoted to her mother, she would make her mother clay animals as gifts and she left a rose on the kitchen table for her mom every morning. Sweet kid, indeed! If anyone had told her mom or anyone else who knew her that this child was going to turn out to be evil incarnate, they would have been incredulous. It’s not possible, is what the response would have been. Truth be told, that’s kind of the reaction we have when we hear today’s Gospel passage. As Jesus intones the words “Get behind me, Satan” in Peter’s direction, we’re shocked. This is Peter. The first of the apostles called by Jesus, the first to proclaim Jesus to be the Messiah, the rock on which the church will be built. He’s the leader of the apostles. “Get behind me, Satan.” Really - what’s so satanic about Peter? What had he done to provoke such a response?

     There’s no doubt,  I suppose, that Peter’s words to Jesus were harsh. The passage tells us after all that “Peter … began to rebuke him.” But, really, I can understand Peter’s reaction to what Jesus had just said. Jesus said that he would suffer and be rejected and be killed and rise again. “Rise again” is hopeful, but, frankly, Peter may well have tuned out by then. Perhaps all he heard was that Jesus was going to suffer and be rejected and killed. That’s important, because you really have to understand what it was that Peter was objecting to. According to Matthew’s version of the event, Peter’s words of rebuke to Jesus were, “Never, Lord! This shall never happen to you!” I can understand that reaction. Let’s face it - we don’t like suffering. Many people go to great lengths to avoid suffering. We don’t want to suffer ourselves and if we could, we’d like to spare others from suffering. As I’ve said to many people, I don’t think that most people are afraid of death - what they’re afraid of is the process of dying; the possibility that it might be unpleasant and that it might involve suffering. So, given that, and given that Jesus had just told Peter and the others that he was going to suffer, it seems to me that Peter’s reaction was completely understandable - in some respects, maybe even commendable.

     So, given Peter’s intention - which was to spare Jesus from suffering - isn’t Jesus’ reaction a bit harsh? “Jesus rebuked Peter … ‘Get behind me, Satan.” Comparing Peter to Satan - just because Peter wanted to spare Jesus from suffering? That does seem harsh. We’re not talking about little Regan here, who’s head was literally spinning and who was crawling around like a spider. We’re talking about Peter, who wanted to spare Jesus from suffering. How in the world is that satanic? And maybe here’s the key to really understanding the passage: we have to come to grips with the concept of “Satan.” Is it a name? Is it a being? Is it a thing? Is it an image? Is it a word? Those are valid questions.

     To me, “satan” is primarily a word that’s used to refer to any of those things that tempt us to turn away from the path God has laid out for us. Is Satan an actual being of some sort? Well, I’m not going to say that he isn’t, but I am going to say that in some ways the concept of Satan becomes even more frightening when we stop thinking of Satan as a being and start thinking about Satan as those things that tempt us to turn away from God and God’s plan. Generally speaking when Satan appears in the story of the Bible it’s in the form of a temptation or a testing: whether it’s Job’s faith being tested by hardships or Jesus being tempted in the wilderness. And if we think of “satan” in that way - not as a being who is evil itself, but as the power of temptation, then we start to understand the passage.

     Jesus knew what his path was; Jesus knew what his calling was; Jesus knew what God had laid before him. The text says that “he spoke plainly about this.” “... the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, and ... he must be killed and after three days rise again.” The word was “must.” This has to happen, Jesus was saying. And Peter tried to say “no.” Peter tried to stop him from doing what God had sent him to do. Any attempt to turn him away from that path or to save him from walking that path - no matter how well meaning - was “satanic” - it was an attempt to tempt him away from God’s path. A paraphrase of what Jesus meant when he said “Get behind me, Satan” might be, “Follow me and my way, Peter - don’t oppose me by trying to tempt me off the path.”

     So - what’s so satanic about Peter? It’s the fact that in this case, he was trying to turn Jesus away from the path Jesus had been called by God to follow. And that’s where things get tough. Because the path being followed by Jesus is the way that Jesus’ followers are called to follow as well. Maybe not to suffering and death, but certainly to sacrifice. “If anyone wants to be My follower, he must give up himself and his own desires. He must take up his cross and follow Me.” It's not "you might be asked to make a sacrifice now and then," it's "you must give up yourself." Maybe it's important to think about that idea on the first day of a Confirmation class. Here, in brief, is what our faith is about. This isn’t only the path that God has laid out for Jesus. This is the path that God has laid out for the followers of Jesus as well. To give up ourselves - to submerge our desires for ourselves and to commit ourselves to the service of others regardless of the sacrifice that may call for. And that’s tough.

     Peter wasn’t Regan from “The Exorcist.” He wasn’t possessed by any evil spirit and he hadn’t become the being called Satan. But he was trying to convince Jesus to veer off the path - meaning he was willing and even anxious to leave that path himself. When Jesus said that he was “the Way” - he meant it. He was the way to follow; his was the way to follow. And there are temptations all around us that try to get us to veer off that path and follow a different way - which is usually the way of self indulgence for our own sake rather than self sacrifice for the sake of others. That’s what was so satanic about Peter at that moment - he found himself focussed on himself and his own wants and his own needs and his own desires and his own priorities, and he put those things ahead of serving God by following Jesus. May we not make that same mistake.