These blogs are the true and unedited me. They are spiritual, religiously liturgical, honest, and transparent. This is me.
Wednesday, October 25, 2023
A Review of the Book "Trans Affirming Churches" by Christina Beardsley and Chris Dowd
Friday, October 20, 2023
Dear You, From Paul: A Sermon for the 21st Day After Pentecost
Grace, Mercy, and
Peace to you in the name of Christ our Saviour. Amen.
Imagine
if the IRSM existed during a time where there were no phones, or internet, and slow-moving
vehicles. Our community would have looked like Paul’s. Maybe a couple of times
a year, I’d make it to each of our parishes for a service and some visiting, but
all other pastoral care would have been through writing letters.
In
that sense, I feel a bit of a kindred spirit with Paul in that he would have been
a pastor to several churches, and he would have travelled many miles to visit
them. He was a circuit-riding preacher and his main form of communication was letter
writing. Because of the large distances between these communities, Paul didn’t
have the ability to go back and forth all the time, so he relied greatly on his
skill at writing pastoral letters as a way of mentoring his communities.
Paul
founded many Christian churches and wrote many letters, many of which were chiding
communities that he heard were going against what he had taught and trying to
set them once again on the right path. So, while it may strike us as odd that
what would be considered old pieces of mail from Paul would be important enough
that they are included in the scriptures, and that they would be studied and
commented upon, it is in these letters that we gain historical and theological
insights into the beginning of the Christian movement.
This
is especially the case with this letter to the Thessalonians. Scholars believe that
this letter was the first of Paul’s epistles, which would make these words very
old. And since these scholars are quite certain that the writing of the
epistles pre-dates the writing down of the Gospels by a good bit of time, 1
Thessalonians is thought to be the earliest document ever written about following
the ministry of Jesus Christ. In other words, this may be the first bit of
Christian writing and theological reflection ever.
The
purpose of the letter is pretty clear. Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy had worked
in Thessalonica to successfully establish various house churches that were
united enough that he addressed his letter to “The Church of the Thessalonians.”
It appears that these three men were forced to flea Thessalonica, likely due to
local opposition, and very likely before they were ready to leave.
Paul’s
concern for this community is evident in the fact that he sent Timothy back
into the den, as it was, to check up on everyone. What he heard back must have
been really good because Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians, the opening of which
we heard today, is full of praise and thanksgiving. Because Timothy’s report
was reassuring, Paul transitions from his short greeting immediately to
expressions of gratitude for the community. He is especially encouraged by
their perseverance despite persecution in the “work of faith and labor of love
and steadfastness of hope.” You will hear this pattern of faith, love, and hope
again later in the letter.
One
of the most notable features of this section is Paul’s emphasis on the power
and presence of the living God who has been at work among the Thessalonians. He
does not seek to prove that God has acted powerfully in him and the community;
he takes it for granted. In fact, the experience of God’s powerful presence
serves as a key premise upon which Paul writes his thanksgiving and later
exhortations. And we should not dismiss this vibrant awareness of the nearness
of the living God as an outdated premise. Being aware of God’s power and presence
in our lives holds rich vitality for our spiritual life.
We
will never be able to fully understand the experiences of Paul, Silvanus, Timothy,
and the Thessalonian community. But we can remain prayerfully aware of the presence
and power of God who is constantly working in and around us. It is this
awareness that will allow us to be transformed by the experience of the living God.
On
the basis of such experience, Paul writes that the Thessalonians became
imitators of him, his colleagues, and of Christ, as well as examples and
messengers for others. Now it’s not that Paul feels people should copy their
lives after him because he thinks he’s “all that”. In Paul’s ancient
Greco-Roman context, imitation of models was the basis of education and moral
formation. In order to learn how to write, form arguments, and live a good
life, people would follow the examples of others who modeled how it should be
done. Paul bore the responsibility of providing such a model for the
communities he founded in the early Christ movement. What Paul was encouraging
the Thessalonians to do was to imitate his efforts to serve God in anticipation
of the return of the Messiah, which they all thought would happen in their lifetime.
So,
what does it mean for us to be aware of the God’s power and presence in our lives?
To imitate Paul and the Thessalonian community in imitating their servitude to
God?
It
means to turn, serve, and wait in faith, love, and hope. The Thessalonians
turned from idols, served God, and now wait for the return of the Messiah from
heaven. Paul’s practical advice is that they are to not wait idly by, that faith
and work are not mutually exclusive. He instructs the Thessalonians to continue
in their work, specifying even the tangibility of working with their hands, so
that need would not exist among the believers, and they would give a good
witness to others. They have been transformed by their belief in Christ, but
that does not mean that regular life has come to an end. They are still
responsible to be faithful in their vocations. For them to continue to grow
into their stellar reputation, work needs to be an element right along with
faith, hope, and love.
In
order for us to be imitators of Paul, we must have a faith that is active and
productive, building muscles of faith that requires going out on a limb for Jesus,
trusting him when all about us denies the wisdom of that trust.
In
order for us to be imitators of Paul, we must have a love that labours. The
very character of God is love so in imitation of God, we should also be love. Love
is a quality that should consume us and we should look to Jesus that this love
may grow in us as a gift of God's grace.
In
order for us to be imitators of Paul, we must have a hope that strengthens. Developing
strong hope in the coming of the Messiah gives us the ability to handle anything
that life throws at us. Hope is knowing that no matters what happens today, we
will have eternal life in the Kingdom of God.
In
his very first epistle, Paul wrote a glowing letter to the Thessalonian
community that was full of praise and thanksgiving. According to his opening
dialogue, he was glad for the work they were doing, for their desire to imitate
his servitude to God, and that they were doing so while full of faith, love,
and hope.
If
Paul were writing a letter to the IRSM, whether to an individual parish or the ministry
as a whole, what do you think he would have to say?
Amen.
Friday, October 13, 2023
God's Feast: A Sermon for the 20th Day After Pentecost
Grace, Mercy, and
Peace to you in the name of Christ our Saviour. Amen.
A
few years ago, maybe more than a few, I wanted to celebrate an important
birthday in a big way. So, I sent invitations out, asking people to meet me at
a restaurant for food, drink, and a good time. Based on the responses, I expected
a big bash with all my friends. In the end, only a couple of people showed up.
Frustrating,
isn’t it? You take the trouble to send out invitations, people respond back in
the affirmative, you make preparations, but then they don’t show.
That’s
exactly what happened to the king in today’s parable. He was holding a wedding
banquet for his son and so he sent out invitations to all sorts of people. And
he based his meat and food order on how many people said they were going to
come. He must have gotten a lot of positive responses because he cooked off some
oxen and a bunch of fat calves. But then on the day of the banquet, no one showed
up.
The
king is understandably upset that all this meat is prepared and there is no one
to eat it. So, he sends his slaves out to those who accepted his invitation,
telling them that dinner was ready. But the guests had all the excuses. One had
a farm to tend to, another had his business. What a lack of consideration for
the king! I’m sure we can all understand his anger at the situation, even if
his retribution is a little over the top. What’s he going to do with all of this
already-prepared meat?
At
this point, the king just needs some people to come and eat dinner, so he sends
his slave to gather anyone off the street who is hungry. It doesn’t matter at
this point who they are, whether they are good people or bad. In Luke, where
this parable is also found, it says they are to bring in “the poor, the maimed,
the blind, and the lame.” The king just doesn’t want to see all this food go to
waste. Gone is the need for a special invitation. All are welcome to the king’s
feast!
But
wait. If that’s the case, if all are now welcome to the table, why does the
king reject the man wearing the wrong clothes? If people are being brought in
from the street, it’s not like they would have had time to go home and change. Well,
it’s likely that the king would have had a robe the man could have borrowed.
The same way a fancy restaurant would lend patrons a jacket if that was what was
required to enter the establishment. So the lack of wedding robe isn’t the underlying
issue here. It’s the man’s lack of response to the king. It says, “he was speechless.”
By refusing to respond to the king and put on the proper clothes, the man has
removed himself from the party.
Gospel
living begins with an invitation, but it can’t remain a mere idea. The man in
the wrong clothes accepted the invitation of the gospel but refused to conform
his life to the gospel. Are we willing to accept the invitation to God’s feast?
Are we willing to put in the work of loving God, loving others, and loving ourselves?
By saying yes to the invitation, we are declaring that our behaviour will align
with the covenant that we have with God. By putting on the wedding robe, we are
putting on Christ, meaning that we will live out our baptismal covenant in
clear and visible ways.
According
to Marvin McMickle, there are many Christians who are like the ones in the parable
who refuse the invitation from God. They want the safe route to discipleship,
but they shy away from the difficult work of outreach and social justice. They
want peace on earth, but don’t want to work toward that end. They want to end
world hunger, but they don’t want to serve a meal at a soup kitchen. They are
always in for a free meal, but don’t want to donate groceries to a food pantry.
Through
worship, God invites us to a party where Holy Communion is a feast for all of
us – friends and strangers. We share bread, wine, and blessings together at the
table. And the number one rule for this party is that the Lord will take
anybody who shows up. As it says in John, “For God so loved the world that
whoever believes in God shall not perish but have eternal life.”
But
we must go beyond simply accepting the invitation to the table. The parable
today is a warning to listen to God and to do the work of God – loving God,
loving others, and loving ourselves. To not do that work is to refuse the
Kingdom of God. To give false lip service to this ministry is to show up in the
wrong clothes.
So,
will you accept God’s invitation and then make excuses not to show up?
Or
will you accept the invitation, clothe yourself in Christ, and give honour to God
by living out the Gospel?
Many
are called, says Jesus, but few are chosen. And it is we who do the choosing.
Are you ready? If you are, then God will be with you wherever you are, wherever
you go. Because God passionately wants us to come to the banquet.
Amen.
Friday, October 6, 2023
A Dose of Gratitude: A Sermon for Thanksgiving Sunday
Grace, Mercy, and
Peace to you in the name of Christ our Saviour. Amen.
Today
is Thanksgiving Sunday. Maybe some of us will be celebrating with family,
eating way too much food, perhaps football will be on the television. But,
following up on last week’s discussion on truth and reconciliation, there is a
dark history to Thanksgiving in Canada.
Celebrating
the harvest was always an important event for Indigenous people. It was a time
to give thanks to nature’s bounty and for the health of the community. First
Nations across Turtle Island have traditions of thanksgiving for surviving
winter and for receiving crops and game as a reward for their hard work. These
traditions may include feasting, prayer, dance, potlatch, and other ceremonies,
depending on the peoples giving thanks.
When
European settlers began coming to Turtle Island, Indigenous people saved them
from starvation by sharing their food and their knowledge of survival on the vast
lands of trees, water, and wild weather. Without having learned skills in
planting, hunting, and fishing, the colonialists would have surely died. In
return, the following year those same colonialists burned and murdered the Indigenous
people. Not a great way to say thank you.
It's
easy to see why many people feel a little ambivalent to this holiday. Don’t get
me wrong. I like a good turkey dinner with all the fixings just as much as the
next guy. But it sure is hard to be thankful around a table full of food when
you know the history of the holiday and you consider what’s happening all
around the world, and especially in our own backyards.
Wouldn’t
lament be more appropriate? Or a cry for justice? Or a call to action? Certainly,
these are also possibilities and have their time and place. But for just this
moment, and given today’s reading, I am reminded that of all of our responses
to events, blessed or challenging, great or small, one of the most powerful is
that of thanksgiving.
In
the passage of Luke before us we have yet another story of Jesus healing people
with whom he has no business interacting. Ten men approach him, unclean and outcast,
pleading with Jesus to heal them. Which, of course, he did.
All
these men would have been quite surprised to find themselves healed. Perhaps
some were overjoyed. Perhaps some celebrated. Perhaps others ran to tell their
family and friends. Perhaps a few even took it for granted. We don’t know what
happened to nine of the men, but we know that only one returned to thank Jesus
for curing him. Only one decided to actually express his gratitude to Jesus and
to God.
Were all ten lepers healed? Yes. Were they all saved? Yes, in the sense that they were rescued from their disease. But not in the sense of drawing close to God in thankfulness and appreciation. The nine were saved physically but not spiritually.
Our
natural response here would be to rebuke those nine men who ran off without
even a slight word of thanks. But consider this. The other nine did nothing
wrong. In fact, they did exactly as they were told and presumably also enjoyed being
healed. Again, they didn’t do anything wrong and received the blessing promised
them.
So,
what does the man who returned receive? Certainly, the blessing of healing, as
did the other nine. But also the blessing that comes from recognizing blessing
and giving thanks — the blessings, that is, of wholeness and even salvation.
Returning
to God and giving thanks and praise is central to our faith. When we read this
account of the ten lepers, we can’t help but be drawn to our central liturgical
eucharistic prayer. “Let us give thanks to the Lord our God. It is right to
give our thanks and praise. It is indeed right, our duty and our joy, that we
should at all times and in all places give thanks and praise to you, almighty
and merciful God.”
This
Eucharistic prayer is like our weekly dose of gratitude. The words of the
prayer are meant to characterize every part of our Christian living – our mundane,
trivial, ordinary, everyday life. It our duty to show ourselves grateful to God
with our whole life. The words of the Great Thanksgiving calls us to live
Eucharistic lives. But what does it mean to live a Eucharistic life?
It
means loving others. After hearing stories of how Jesus showed love to others,
we try to show God’s love to everyone we meet. It is easy to show love to the
people who are nice to us, but it is very hard to be nice to the people who we
find hard to love. This is exactly what Jesus asks us to do!
It
means looking after creation. God has made so many beautiful things for us that
we need to make sure we look after them. God wants us to look after the people,
the animals, the plants, and everything else in creation.
It
means caring for those in need. Jesus taught us to care for others who have
less than we do. We can do this through prayer and through giving to places
like your local food bank, or to Camp Mercedes near the Provencher Bridge.
It
means announcing the Gospel. God wants us to be evangelists! At the end of each
service, we are sent out into the world to take what we have learned through
the readings and prayers and live like Jesus and show God’s love to people in
our daily lives.
It
means to do your best. Even when it was really hard, Jesus always did his best
to do what he knew God wanted. He often prayed to God to give him the strength
he needed to do what was right.
It
means to help, share, and show kindness. Through his life, Jesus was always
aware of people who needed his help. We too, need to always be ready to help
others. Another way of showing God’s love to others is by sharing. There were
many times when Jesus shared with others. And we can show kindness to other
people, especially people who others are not kind to.
This
world is full of blessing and challenges. Which will we focus on? Truth be
told, there is a time for lament and cries for justice and activism. But given
that we live in a culture filled with blame and accusation and almost devoid of
thanksgiving, maybe on this day, and remembering the tenth leper, we can go
forth to be heralds of blessing and bearers of powerful words of gratitude and to
live the Eucharistic life to which we are called.
Amen.
Tuesday, October 3, 2023
On Friendship
Photo by Jessica Ticozzelli on pexels.com
"Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: "What! You too? I thought that no one but myself . . ."" - C.S. Lewis
Friendship is such a strange concept. You pick a random human you've just met and you decide that you like them and you want to do stuff with them. Hopefully the feeling is mutual and reciprocated.
Know one really knows how it starts, or why. Sometimes friendships are fleeting and sometimes they last a lifetime. And, I think, friendships have changed over the years. When I was growing up, you went next door, knocked, and your friends came out to play. Usually it was a whole neighbourhood full of kids. As we grew up into adulthood, and especially as technology has become an increasingly important part of our lives, what defines friendship is different.
More than likely, we are becoming friends with people we may never meet, where entire conversations happen over some sort of social media medium, rather than at a kitchen table with a coffee in hand. Does that lessen the friendship? If you never have a face-to-face conversation with a person, does that mean the friendship isn't real?
I don't think so. I definitely have people in my life that I may never meet, or have only met once or twice, but talk to them almost daily. No way would I consider those friendships "less than". In fact, I believe that online friendships are a lot more common than we might want to admit. The days of meeting for coffee or hanging out in each other's houses are becoming few and far between. Is this good or bad? The jury is still out on that, but we certainly shouldn't negate online friendships, in the meantime.
Another strange thing about friendships is how fragile they are, and how things can change in an instant. Most people need some sort of contact and connection with other people. Even us introverts. And while kids can walk up to the playground and make a lifelong friend, it is very hard to make friends as adults. So when we do make a friend, we try to hold on to them for dear life. We get nervous when they don't reply to our messages, assuming that we've done something to ruin the friendship. The anxiety gets the best of us as we being to assume the friendship is dead and we are alone again. Perhaps we even question whether or not there was really a friendship there, that maybe we read to much into it all.
Why do we put ourselves through it all? That's a really good question. If I ever figure it out, I'll let you know.
Until then, good luck and enjoy the friends you have - in person or online.