Monday, February 07, 2022

God comes in the guise of the present moment (sermon from Sunday, Feb 6/22)

 Scripture Reading: Luke 5:1-11

The Gospel of Luke, more than the other Gospels, does not see Jesus alone as the one who comes to heal the world.  Luke’s message is that Jesus and his disciples do it together, and that after Jesus is gone, his disciples are raised to carry on what he began with them.

 

The reading is the story of Jesus beginning that movement by calling Peter and some of his companions into partnership with him. Readers of the Gospel decades later would have known that Peter became the first spiritual head of the church. So, this is a kind of “founders’ story” that says something about the church by showing what kind of person Jesus chooses to build it on.

 

The story takes place on the shoreline of the Lake of Gennesaret – another name for the Sea of Galilee. The Plain of Gennesaret is a beautiful, low plainthat rises up from the western shore of the lake,and extends about four miles along the shore, and two miles inland.  It is so lush and beautifulthat people of the time called it “the Garden of God” and “paradise”—a wonderful beginning place for the new movement Jesus is gathering around him. 

 

One day as Jesus was standing by the Lake of Gennesaret, the people were crowding around him and listening to the word of God.  He saw at the water’s edge two boats,left there by the fishermen, who were washing their nets.  He got into one of the boats,the one belonging to Simon,and asked him to put out a little from shore. Then he sat down and taught the people from the boat.

 

When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon,“Put out into deep water,and let down the nets for a catch.”

 

Simon answered, “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets.”

 

When they had done so,they caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break.  So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them, and they came and filled both boats so full that they began to sink.  When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus’ knees and said “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!”  For he and all his companions were astonished at the catch of fish they had taken, and so were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, Simon’s partners.

 

Then Jesus said to Simon, “Don’t be afraid; from now on you will fish for people.”  So, they pulled their boats up on shore, left everything and followed him.

 

Meditation

Friday morning I was near the end of my morning prayer time, sitting on the sofa in the living room when the phone rang in the kitchen.  I had just begun a closing ritual of “binding prayer” which takes 3 or 4 minutes to finish.  I had to decide what to do: finish the prayer, or answer the phone.

The binding prayer is something I do at the end of morning prayer time.  I focus on a particular gift, or awareness, or kind of spiritual openness I feel I particularly need for that day.  I name it, then “bind it unto myself” by wrapping a small length of wool around a stick, saying with each wrap around the stick, “I bind unto myself this day … such and such an awareness or need.”  It takes a few minutes, and after a few weeks the stick looks like this.  

 

Friday, I was beginning to bind unto myself “a need for direction.”  I don’t mean a whole new direction like a new job, or new purpose for my life.  But in the ordinary day-to-day living of what I do and who I am, I was aware of how much I live and work just by habit and routine, how the things I choose to do are mostly what I feel like doing or know I do well, and that because of this my life and my work are probably more limited than what God really wants of me, or for me. 

So, just as I start binding unto myself the need for God to direct me in little ways through the day and the week to what God wants me to do, the phone rings, and I think, “Wow!  That’s a pretty quick answer to prayer.  I guess I should answer.”

But I’d only begun the binding.  If I stopped it would fall apart and I’d have to start all over again later.  So, I let the phone ring and go to voice mail.  I figured even God would leave a message.

I checked a few minutes later after the binding was done, and there was no message.  Call display showed a number with a 337 area code, which Google tells me is southwestern Louisiana.  No doubt, a telemarketer of some kind.  Probably not a call of God I needed to answer.

But then, who’s to say?  Maybe it was an invitation to a conversation that would have made some difference for good in someone else’s life.  And in mine, as well.  Because isn’t that how it works?  That when we answer a call of God to some engagement with the world, everyone involved – including us, is changed.

We all know stories of accidents, confusions and seemingly one-off little jaunts that turn into life-changing moments. 

Like the story we know of a man named Art from a church in Hamilton, who on a business trip to the Dominican Republic took a wrong turn one night on the way back to the resort he was staying at, found himself in a labyrinth of roads and streets in the poorest part of the island, was moved by the deep poverty and need he saw, and step by step over the next few years learned how to inspire and lead groups of church people to go with him to that part of the island to build good homes for people in deep poverty in that part of the island he got lost in, that fateful night.

But the call – a call from God, isn’t always as big and dramatic as that.  Or as exotic and far away from home. 

A call can come to our heart’s door, doing something as simple and ordinary as reading the newspaper or watching the news or listening to the announcements at church, and suddenly finding something in yourself caught, like a fish on a hook, by some story – some tragedy, some new wonder, some new thing needing to be done or starting to be done in the world.  It catches your attention, and it might be the oddest thing that at the moment doesn’t seem to have any connection with your life.  But you poke at it, you learn a bit more, you find some little way you can be involved or can help, until turn by turn, play by play, you’re reeled in.  It becomes part of your life – part of the purpose of your life, and you’re glad for it.

And a call from God isn’t always that big or extended.  Sometimes it might really something small and one-off – a conversation with a friend or a neighbour; an invitation to do something that you’ve never done before, or felt inadequate or uncomfortable about doing; an opportunity to say or write or do something from your heart about your life, your faith, your experience of God that seems a little new and scary.  But you feel the urge, sense an opening, and against your usual resistance, you say yes, you say things you’re not used to saying out loud, or get involved in something you normally don’t let yourself get involved in – and it makes all the difference in the world to the person you’re with, and also to you.

Remember, in the story we’ve read, only a handful of people – Peter and his partners, left their nets and their boats and that huge load of fish and their families behind, to follow Jesus for three years and then when he was gone, to start a church.  The rest of the people that day went home to their daily lives, their families, their jobs.  And it was there, in little bit by little bit, that they would go about answering the calls – big and little that came to them – and both the world around them and they would be changed by it.

The story of Peter, though, is helpful, because it highlights three things about the call of God in our lives.

One is that at the time when Jesus calls Peter into partnership with him, Peter is just going about his business like he did every day.  He’s not on retreat, not seeking a spiritual experience, not even in synagogue, not trying to be a saint.  He’s just trying to catch fish – an occupation probably passed down to him by his father.  It’s what he does for a living, day in and day out – night in and night out.  And that’s where the calls of God come in our life – in the ordinary stuff, the day-to-day realities of life.

A second thing is that at a critical point he is able and willing to see the ordinary world around him in a new way, by seeing it through the eyes of Jesus.  The night on the lake he has just come back from was not a good one, and he is probably not too enamored of the lake that morning.  As we heard in the introduction to the story, the Plain of Gennesaret where he comes to shore was so lush and beautiful that people of the time called it “God’s Garden” and “paradise.”  But the lake at the foot of it that was his world, seemed at that point to be nothing like paradise – much like our lives and our world seem a lot of the time – kind of hard, cold, broken and ungenerous.

But Jesus sees it differently.  Jesus sees beneath the surface and beyond the immediate circumstamce, to the bigger picture.  And Peter is willing to trust what Jesus sees in the lake just waiting to be pulled out.  Just waiting to be realized and brought to light.  Just waiting to be enjoyed and celebrated.

Which leads to a third thing – Peter’s trust in Jesus’ vision of him.  When Peter sees the catch of fish that Jesus has led them to, he knows Jesus is a true prophet of God, the messiah come to bring new life to the world.  And he knows his own unworthiness and inability to be and to do the kinds of things that Jesus and the kingdom of God are about.  He is not just being humble, nor over-negative when he says, “Depart from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!”  He is being honest, as we all are when we admit to ourselves and to others that in ourselves we really don’t have what it takes.

But Jesus says, “Yes, I know. (Jesus doesn't try to talk Peter out of his confession.) I know your limitations, your sins and weaknesses.  But don’t worry; we have work to do together.  It’s not all up to you; nor is it even all up to me.  It’s up to us together – we who reach out and those we reach out to.  It’s up to the community and the body of God we become when we work together for the healing of the world.”

Peter trusts what he says.  And it’s this openness to Jesus’s vision of us all just as we are as partners with him in bringing out the goodness at the heart of the world as we know it, that is the kingdom of God.

I wonder, what the call is these days for any one of us, and for us as a church.  Our AGM as a congregation is coming up in a few weeks, and thisis one of the questions we’ll give some time and energy and thought to: where is Jesus is leading us and what he is directing us to, that’s most likely more than we are worthy or capable of just in ourselves,but is exactly where and what, he and the world and our own deepest hearts really need us to be, and to be doing right now?

To be servants together with him and with one another of the kingdom of God in and around this place?


Tuesday, February 01, 2022

Whadda ya mean, he's not blessin' us ?!?! (sermon from Sunday, Jan 23, 2022)

 Scripture Reading: Luke 4:21-30 

The reading is a continuation of a story begun last week.  Jesus is beginning his work of teaching about the kingdom of God, and showing the people of Galilee how near the good will of God is in their lives.  After travelling all around Galilee, he is finally back in Nazareth where he grew up.

It’s the sabbath.  Jesus is in the synagogue along with everyone else.  He stands up to read, and chooses a passage from the prophet Isaiah about God anointing a servant to bring good news to the poor, to free those who are bound, to help those who are blind to see in new ways, and to help the oppress rise up and be strong.

As was the custom, after standing to read at the lectern, Jesus rolls up the scroll, and sits down to offer teaching about what he has read.  The story says “the eyes of everyone in the synagogue were fastened on him” as they waited to see what he would say. 

Jesus began by saying to them, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”

All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his lips. “Isn’t this Joseph’s son?” they asked.

Jesus said to them, “Surely you will quote this proverb to me: ‘Physician, heal yourself!’ And you will tell me, ‘Do here in your hometown what we have heard that you did in Capernaum.’”

“Truly I tell you,” he continued, “no prophet is accepted in his hometown.  I assure you that there were many widows in Israel in Elijah’s time, when the sky was shut for three and a half years and there was a severe famine throughout the land. Yet Elijah was not sent to any of them,but to a widow in Zarephath in the region of Sidon.  And there were many in Israel with leprosy in the time of Elisha the prophet, yet not one of them was cleansed—only Naaman the Syrian.”

All the people in the synagogue were furious when they heard this. 

They got up, drove him out of the town, and took him to the brow of the hill on which the town was built, in order to throw him off the cliff. But he walked right through the crowd and went on his way.

 

Meditation 

In this story, I think we need to pity the poor people of Nazareth.  Show them some grace.  Cut them some slack.

They come off sounding pretty bad when they turn against Jesus for telling them that the good will of God for people in need is starting somewhere other than with them.  The story says that when they hear this, they are furious.  So angry that in the middle of worship they get up (just picture this -- right in the middle of worship they get up), force Jesus out of the synagogue, march him out of town, and take him to the brow of the hill on which the town was built, in order to throw him down the cliff.

As you see in the picture, it's quite a drop.  It might very well have ended Jesus’ ministry right then and there almost before it got started.  Would’ve saved the authorities in Jerusalem and Rome all the trouble they had to go to three years later.

But we can’t be too hard on them.  Because who doesn’t want the home-town hero to stand up for them, and give them a special place in the sun? 

They heard the news of this wonder-preacher spreading good news of God’s healing love all over Galilee, and now he’s in their midst.  And lo and behold, it’s Jesus the son of Joseph.  He’s their own hometown boy, and how could they not expect that the blessings of heaven would now begin to shower down on them?  “It’s Jesus – our personal messiah!”

Personal messiah!   

That was the language of my teenage conversion experience – that I was giving my heart and my life to Jesus as my personal saviour.  Not that I desired the judgment and destruction of others in hell just to serve my needs and my place in God’s kingdom.  But it meant that if others didn’t give themselves to Jesus as I did, at least I was still saved.  I might pity and pray for and even work for the salvation of others too, but no matter how that turned out, I knew I would be going to heaven.  I would be blessed in this life on Earth.  I had my messiah to save and serve me, even if no one else got included in that holy grace.

Jesus sees it differently, though.  I think I severely misunderstood the meaning of the Gospel, and the nature of God’s love.

The way Jesus puts it to the people in Nazareth is that the year of the Lord’s favour – the time of setting things right, at least for now, is beginning with other people, and is not being headquartered in Nazareth. 

He knows they’ll be let down.  They’re already envious of what’s happening in other towns.  “I’m sure you’ll ask me to do here what was done in Caparenaum,” he says.   

And then of all the stories of the prophets that tell of God working for good in the world, he picks two in which instead of blessing the people of Israel in a time of need, God reaches out to bless their enemies instead.  Non-Jews.  People outside the covenant community.

It’s almost as though -- not even "almost" -- Jesus is going out of his way to antagonize them.  To poke at their understanding of what it means to be “God’s people.”  To put a pin to the balloon of what they think it means to be “God’s elect.”  And to burst it.  

Because what does it mean?

In this story Jesus makes it clear it doesn’t mean we have first dibs on God’s blessings and the worldly signs of God’s favour.  Very often that’s what we think, and what any religious people are tempted to think.  From the ancient times of national gods and household deities, up to our own day, it’s been assumed that the point of having a god and worshipping your God properly is to be guaranteed some kind of place and power in the world, to have your nation blessed, and to enjoy prosperity and well-being for your household, your family and yourself.

But Jesus doesn’t see it that way.  Not that God doesn’t care about us, and isn’t at work in our lives for good and for our well-being.  And doesn’t reach out to help and to heal us.  We have enough evidence in our lives to know God does care and does act for our good and well-being.

But it’s not just us that God cares about.  It’s also the others.  All the others.  Even the others who really are completely other from us.  And sometimes before us.  Sometimes seemingly instead of us.

And we’re called not only to be okay with that, but to rejoice in it. 

A professor of theology named David Lose puts it this way – “If there is one line that sums up the Jesus we discover in Luke’s account, it’s this: God came to redeem everyone.  When we focus on ‘redeem,’ it’s good news.  When we focus on ‘everyone,’ and call to mind those we believe have done us wrong … or who frighten us … or who are different … or who seem unnatural … that same line is terrifying.  In being drawn into the way of God’s love we lose all claims, you see, to why we deserve something (and presumably others do not), as we recognize that deserving simply has no place in the kingdom of God.” 

Because what the kingdom of God is about is having a perspective as big as the healing of all the world, and a vision open enough to embrace the whole picture, even if the focus at any one time is on the healing and empowering of people other than us, beyond us, and maybe even against us.

And if that’s the case, what does it mean to be God’s people and to be God’s elect?

As I said, it doesn’t mean we have first dibs on God’s blessing.  It does mean, though, that we’re among those in the world who are attuned to see and to hear where God is at work, and to be part of it, and to help others see it for what it is.  To lift it up.  To speak and to act in support of it.

Which is why, for instance, people of all colours are invited by God to rejoice in the rise of Black Lives Matter, and to let it be what it needs to be as a gracious movement of God and God's Word and God's Spirit for someone else's healing at this time in our history.   

And why in Canada, indigenous and settler people alike are called to affirm that Every Child Matters, and to be glad that the First Nations are being helped by God at this point in our history to find new voice, new hope, new strength.

It makes me think that one great thing about COVID is that at least for a while we all learned to say things like “we’re all in this together” and “no one is safe, until all are” and “I do what I do and do what I can not just for my own well-being, but also for yours, whoever you are, and for theirs, wherever they are.”  And we really believed these things, and tried to act them out.  

For a while ... most people ... as best we could.

Which really focuses a light, I think, on the answer to the question of what it means to be God's people in the world, and God's elect in our time.  

We know God cares for us, and seeks our well-being in all things.  But it doesn't mean we have first dibs -- or some times even any claim at all, on God's blessing.

Because part of our own well-being is to see how God is alive and moving in the world in so many other places, and on behalf of so many other people different from us, and apart from us.  We are invited to bear witness to that, to rejoice in it, to speak and to act as we are able in support of it, and to be one of many in the world who give thanks for the unveiling of the good work of God in our time, for the healing of all the world, no matter where and among whom it begins at any time. 

Because really we are well, only when all are well.

And that is what God is up to, all the time, in one place after another, for the good of all. 

Praise be to God.