Tuesday, January 15, 2019

Shall we gather ... (sermon from Confirmation Sunday, Jan 13, 2019)


Readings: 
Isaiah 43:1-7

Life was not always easy for Israel.  Being God’s people did not keep them from making mistakes, and did not protect them from suffering loss and experiencing sorrow.  One of their worst experiences as a people was when their kingdom was defeated, they lost all their land, and they were taken away to live in exile in a foreign kingdom.  As they lived through that hard time, different prophets helped them learn deep things about God, and about what it means to trust in, and follow God.  In today’s reading the prophet Isaiah speaks to them of God’s promise never to abandon them, and to lead them back home.

Luke 3:15-23
 
In the time of Jesus, things are not good for the people of Israel.  The Roman Empire is taking more and more control of everything around the Mediterranean Sea – including Israel, and the people feel once again they are losing their kingdom and their land to ungodly, foreign powers.  As they learned to do in the past, they pray for God to send them a saviour who will help them get back their land and regain control of their own lives, so they can live in the world the way that God – not Rome, wants them to. 

Many who believe God will do that, go to the Jordan River to renew their faith and their commitment to God.  They remember how in the old days they came into their land by walking through the water of the Jordan from the eastern side – first, after the wilderness journey under Moses, and later when God led them back from exile.  So now a variety of preachers call them to the Jordan again – to leave Israel in a symbolic way, going over to the eastern side of the river, and then come back through the water as a sign of their renewed faith in God to save them and bring them home. 

It’s the coming back in that’s everything.  John the Baptist is one of those preachers, and Jesus is one of the people who come to him for this ritual journey of return.


  
Okay, someone has to say it.  It didn’t show up in the questions affirming the personal faith of the four confirmands.  Nor in the wording of the New Creed we all said to affirm the faith we share through the United Church with the whole of the Christian community world-wide.

But at some point it has to be said that this is the confirmation class of the Perfect Pancake – of belief in and commitment to the Perfect Pancake.  And if you think we’re talking only about Aunt Jemima or Betty Crocker here, you can ask them about it and what it’s come to mean for us.

The Perfect Pancake is as good a Christology, anthropology and soteriology – in other words, as good a statement about the meaning of Christ, of our own life, and of how we are saved and made good as any I’ve heard. 

It came out of our first gathering – what was it, a year ago last September?  And it wouldn’t have come up at all, and we wouldn’t have come to it without our gathering for breakfast and conversation together about God and us and other things that matter.

It seemed every time we gathered was like that.  As we talked, asked questions and together explored the Bible, our own experience and the traditions of the church, all six of us – Brynna and myself included, learned things and grew in some way that we never would have without those gatherings.

Gathering is important.  There’s something about faith that’s communal and shared – that has to be communal and shared if it’s to be real and alive at all.  It means something that the creed of our faith begins with the affirmation, “we are not alone; we live in God’s world.”  Not I, but we living together in God’s world is what it’s all about.

And then the affirmations, not I believe, I trust, I am called, but we believe in God, we trust in God, and we are called to be the church.  In part, because none of us is complete enough, full enough, varied enough, self-critical enough, strong enough to really believe and trust and follow God just on our own.  Also because it’s in our togetherness and in our ability to gather and to stay gathered over time in spite of what divides us, and across whatever boundaries and differences exist among us, that we actually have something to say and to show the world around us. 

Christianity is not a self-help movement we can pursue alone in the privacy of our homes and in our spare time just by reading a book and finding quiet time to work on ourselves.  That may very well be part of what we do.  But Christianity is also and always a matter of learning to be with other people in new ways, and of working together at how we are human together, and how together we discover and create the kind of community the world needs in our time to be good in the way God has made it to be good.

I remember when I first joined the church around the time I was twelve.  We had membership classes, with a book we studied; at the end of it there was also an interview for each of us with the Board of Deacons to see if we were “ready for baptism” and church membership.  What I studied in the book and was asked by the deacons, I cannot tell you.  But I remember the class itself and what it was like to study with the ten or eleven other kids my age.  I also remember how we all hung out in the lower hall of the church as one by one we were called into a room with the deacons, and how as we waited we tried to reassure everyone that it was going to go fine, and all would be well.

The gathering at times is everything.

Parker Neale, chair of Council who could not be here today expressed his regret at not being able to be here for your big day because he said he remembered very fondly his confirmation years ago.  When pressed to say what he remembered, he emailed back, “What I remember about my confirmation process is going on a sleepover with the rest of the group members in the lead-up to the big day, at another church, and getting to know them better. Then, standing up at the front of our church, Burton Avenue United in Barrie, on the big day.”

An overnight as a group.  And then standing together in front of the whole congregation.  The gathering and being part of the gathering is everything.

And isn’t that why we’re here?  Not just in confirmation today, but in worship every Sunday? 

And not just in worship.  In Sunday school and in adult education events and programs when we have them.  We come together in a house of God, under the umbrella – or, the outstretched arms of the Holy One, sharing each of us in our own way a faith that is bigger than ourselves.  And together we express and share and work out what it means – the different things it means for each of us, and the shared things it comes to mean for all of us.  And it’s thus that we grow in faith, in community, in hope, and in love of God.

It’s why the Quilt Club is about more than just quilting.  Why peeling peaches in August and making jam a week from now are spiritual as well as practical events.  It’s why shawl ministries where people knit prayer shawls to share with others are most effective when the knitters actually regularly meet together in one place and one time, rather than just do piece-work at home on their own.  It’s why proxy votes are never used and never allowed in church decision-making.  Because gathering and being part of the gathering is how we find our way and discover our faith and learn what it means to follow Christ and be part of God’s people in and for the world.

But how hard it is!

One of the reasons for the confirmation program taking 16 months is the difficulty we had finding times we could all gather and be together.  The same thing we find on Sunday mornings.  The same reason – at least one of the reasons, why it’s hard to maintain regular Sunday school and adult ed and other kinds of programs.

Sometimes we get discouraged by it.  Both those who are able to be here and those who cannot feel bad about it.  But that’s life.  And it’s not entirely new. 

Among the ancient Hebrews attendance was never complete in Temple worship and pilgrimages to the holy city or even at special meetings at appointed times with the divine.  In fact, for seventy years during the time of the exile no one got to the Temple at all.  Life took them all far away from the worship rituals they had known, and they were pretty sure it was their fault.

In the Gospels, remember how one day after the crucifixion of Jesus, Thomas didn’t come to the appointed gathering of the disciples and wouldn’t you know it, that was the day the resurrected Jesus showed up?  Thankfully for Thomas, Jesus was there again the following week when Thomas was able to make it.  And even in the letters of the New Testament, it’s clear that people got to church when they could, and sometimes they worried they weren’t getting there enough.

In this, there are two bits of good news, though.

One is that even when you’re away, for whatever reason, God is with you.  Even if where you are is full of trouble and your path seems godforsaken, and even if it’s your own fault, God is with you.  How does Isaiah put it, when he speaks to a bunch of God’s people who have been away from their land and their temple for generations already?

Do not fear, [God says], for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by name, you are mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
and the flame shall not consume you.

All of us at times in our life feel like that – in deep water, in over our head, out on our own far from supportive community, far from church family and maybe also far from family altogether for whatever reason.  And God says,

Do not fear, for I am with you; I am the Lord your God,
… you are precious in my sight, and honoured,
and I love you …
And I will bring you home –
no matter where you are and how far,
I will bring my children back home–
the daughters and the sons of my heart,
everyone who is called by name, and made for my glory,
I will gather and lead back home.

And then the second bit of good news is this: that when we come home, no matter how or when it happens or for how long, the response we get is not “where were you,” or “why are you here, or that half-joking (but only half-joking) “it’s about time.”  Rather, it’s simply and only “Welcome; it’s so good you’re here.  Come in; let yourself be enfolded by God’s love.  You are my beloved, and I delight in you.  You belong.”

I remember one day when I was in middle school (we called it junior high in Manitoba) – the one and absolutely only day I came home late for supper.  This was a severe breach of family etiquette, because through all the years of our childhood supper was always at 5:30, and only 5:30 because dad got home from work shortly after 5:00 and after washing up and changing from his work clothes, it was then supper time so he and we could then get on with whatever we needed to do for the evening.

This one day though I stayed late after school to play football with friends and by the time we finished playing and I walked home, it was already 5:40 or 5:45.  I remember the anxiety I felt as I opened the side door.  The kitchen where we ate our meals was up the three steps from the landing, and just around the corner to the left.  I remember the deadly, stony silence I felt coming from the kitchen down the stairs to the side door landing where I stood alone.  I quietly and anxiously took off my running shoes, wondering what the consequence for my lateness would be.  I imagined nothing good.  And that’s when I first heard the saying, spoken in a clipped and somber tone of voice, “You’d better throw your hat in first, to see if it gets thrown back.”

Had that been God’s house, had God rather than one of us been at the head of the table, had our family at that moment been the kind of community we here at our best aspire to be, the voice that came down from above to where I stood hat in hand at the side door landing, would have said instead in the warmest and most happily welcoming way you can imagine, what we have read this morning: “You are my Son – or, you are my daughter, the Beloved; with you I am – and we all are, well pleased.  Come on in, there’s a place for you as part of us.  We’re glad you’re here and we’re together again, because the gathering, whenever we can manage it, is everything to us.”

And maybe then as well, “Oh, and now you’re here … can you tell us what happened along the way?  Was it good?  Was it something bad?  We’d like to hear it, because the story – the story that we are together, is the best part of who we are, and of what we have to offer to the world.”

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