Look Up with Faith: A Sermon for Holy Cross Day

May only truth be spoken and truth received. Amen.

 

September 14^th is Holy Cross Day. In the Anglican Church calendar, it is considered a feast day that takes precedence on a Sunday. It just so happens that today is actually September 14^th, but if it been the 13^th or the 15^th, we still would have celebrated Holy Cross Day instead of the 14^th Sunday after Pentecost.

 

I’m sure many of you are wondering just what is Holy Cross Day anyway? Here’s a brief bit of background. Helena, the mother of Emperor Constantine, discovered what was believed to be the empty tomb and true cross of Christ during a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. According to tradition, the discovery was made on September 14th, 330, and then, after the Church of the Holy Sepulcher was built on the site, it was dedicated on September 14th, 335. From as early as the seventh century, the Church commemorated September 14th each year with a Feast of the Holy Cross. Once removed from the Anglican Church calendar by Thomas Cramner during the English Reformation, the Feast of the Holy Cross returned to Anglicanism during the 19th and 20th centuries and now appears on September 14 in the calendars of the current Prayer Books. Today, the commemoration of the Holy Cross is common throughout the Anglican Church and is a time for remembering the work that Jesus did for us, and for the world, on the cross.

 

As we move through this sermon, I want you to hold some questions in your mind – what does the cross mean to you? When you look at it, when you see it, what do you feel and think? What meaning does it hold for you?

 

We start our readings today with some complaining from the Israelites. There was plenty of that being done throughout their travels in the wilderness, usually at points where the peoples’ faith was being severely tested. This time, they were asking Moses if he brought them to this desert just to die. They didn’t like the food and there was a lack of water. Walking through the desert isn’t for the faint of heart after all.

 

In response, God sends poisonous snakes. What a strange thing to send to a group of starving, thirsty people. As done in previous stories, God gives Moses instructions on how to heal his people and how to build up their faith. This time, Moses was told to make a serpent of bronze and put it on a pole. Looking at this bronze serpent will heal anyone who has been bitten.

 

If you picture the bronze serpent in your mind, I’d bet we’re all picturing the same familiar image – one you would see within the medical community. A symbol that for most of us would be a reminder of healing. It marks the places that we know we can go to for medical attention and help.

 

What is it that God is really asking of the Israelites here? To believe that a looking at an object will heal them? Or was it that God wanted the Israelites to have faith that what they needed, God would provide. So while this bronze serpent doesn’t mean “get medical help here”, as we know it today, by looking up at this symbol, the Israelites has faith the God would heal them of their snake bites.

 

Today’s Gospel reading is one we typically hear in the 2^nd week of Lent. Nicodemus sneaking around in the night trying to have a conversation with Jesus without any of his buddies seeing him. He is beginning to believe in what Jesus has to offer but isn’t ready to admit it out in the open. That’s all well and good but I’m going to save that story for when we get to Lent. For today, let’s concentrate on the last bit of the reading:

“No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world but in order that the world might be saved through him.” (John 3:13-17)

 

John reminds readers that God sent snakes to the Israelites, and that Moses lifted up the bronze serpent in the wilderness so that his people could be healed. Well God didn’t send snakes this time. Instead, God sent Jesus to us, so that Jesus could teach us about healing and faith. And just as people looked up at the bronze snake in faith, we look up to the cross in faith for our own healing.

 

Faith is the instrument through which we receive the grace of God. Nothing else is needed. You don’t need to do anything to earn God’s grace, or God’s love. It has always been ours to enjoy. By looking up to the cross in faith, we inherit the kingdom promised long ago to Abraham – we inherit eternal life, as a gift of grace received through faith. Our eternal standing in the kingdom of God is gained through faith in the faithfulness of Christ being raised up on the cross and dying on our behalf.

 

It is this that we are celebrating, today, on Holy Cross Sunday. That God so loved the world that God sent us Jesus, so that anyone who believes in him may have eternal life. We are called to look up at the cross with faith, knowing that God didn’t send Jesus to condemn us, but to save us.

 

In a world full of turmoil, violence, and hate, we can look to the cross for grace, comfort, and love. We can look to the cross with faith, knowing that we are children of God, wonderfully and fearfully made in God’s image. We can look to the cross for the strength we need to make it through each day knowing that, at the end, nothing will separate us from the love of God.

 

Amen.

A Year-Long Exploration of the Sermon on the Mount: Week 30

Chapter 30 – Our Father

 

Our Father in heaven… (Matthew 6:9)

 

I think the majority of Christians accept the concept that God has no physical body which means no physical gender. God is everything and everyone. God is transcendent and has no need for corporal form. Therefore, many people are taking the time to remove gendered language wherever possible because limiting God to male pronouns and descriptors limits God.

 

Everywhere, except for the Lord’s Prayer. While there are versions of the Lord’s Prayer that try to replace Father with other terms, it tends to be simply an addition of “our Mother” or combining it into “Our Parent”. Seems to be that the common feeling as we begin reciting this prayer is that we consider ourselves to be children of God. The terminology of Our Father then appears to be a term of endearment, then, for the one who created us, even as we work to make other areas of our worship and prayers to be more inclusive.

 

“Our Father”, then, becomes a term of endearment, a term of love for our creator. The love that can be found between father and child, between parent and child. But as a caution, not every child has felt such love. A child who has been abused by their father, neglected by their father, treated poorly in any way by their father, might hear the words “Our Father” and may cringe at them, rather than feel the love that is being offered in the opening words of the prayer.

 

We begin the Lord’s prayer in venerableness by saying “Our Father in heaven” but we should always be aware of the power that a single word can have over someone’s mind and soul.

It’s Okay to Change: A Sermon for the 13th Sunday After Pentecost

Photo Credit: Austin Chan on Unsplash

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer. Amen.

Every three years, we come across this passage from Jeremiah. It has turned out to be one of my favorites because 12 years ago, it was the very first passage upon which I preached a sermon. At the time, I was given this task as a kind of a test to see if I was truly feeling the call of God to be priest. Jeremiah 18:1-11 happened to be one of the passages the week I was assigned. It took me 6 weeks and many hours in a library to write that sermon. Luckily, I’ve gotten a fair bit quicker now! Each time this passage has come up in the lectionary, I have been in a new parish, which is actually kind of incredible to think about. But it has meant that I’ve gotten many opportunities to review, rework, and revamp this nostalgic sermon. Hopefully you enjoy it as much as others have while also learning a bit about the path I’ve taken to get here.

 

Jeremiah was a prophet who didn’t want to be a prophet – at least not in the beginning. He was only 12 when he received his calling. Like many other prophets in the Hebrew scriptures, Jeremiah denied his calling. Years following his first contact with God, he reluctantly accepted the fact that he was to be a prophet to the nations. In chapter 15, he says, “Your words were found and I ate them, and your word was to me for joy and for the gladness of my heart.” Jeremiah’s life work was to deliver God’s word and bring change to the house of Israel.

 

The book of Jeremiah is filled with stories of how he lived out his calling of receiving God’s word and delivering the good news to the people of Israel. The story today begins with God sending Jeremiah to the potter’s house in order to receive God’s word.

 

Pottery is a collective term that is used to describe anything made from clay, heated at high temperatures, and chemically changed in order to form useful household items and beautiful pieces of art. It takes creativity, patience, and the willingness to destroy previous creations in order to achieve a masterpiece.

 

As Jeremiah watches the potter work, he realizes three things:

1.         The potter working the clay is as God working with people

2.         A spoiled vessel can be reworked, and

3.         The house of Israel is as clay in the hands of the Divine Potter

 

My initial response to “God as the potter” was “Oh! That makes sense! God molds each of us into the person God intends us to be!” But it’s not that simple. Instructions from God are not always straight-forward. There are no “do this” or “do that” statements with an “or else” consequence. Instead, lessons are sent to us through prophets such as Jeremiah, not simple directives. Rather than telling us what to do, or who to be, God guides us through stories of love, grace, and mercy.

 

We have heard some of these lessons over the last few weeks as we have been reading from the Book of Jeremiah. Over and over, Jeremiah spreads God’s word trying to find different ways of showing the Israelites how much better their lives could be if they would simply show a little kindness to one another. However, the people of Israel seem to be set in their ways and have no intentions of changing. They make the choice not to hear God’s word.

 

Well, maybe they heard, but they didn’t listen to the words Jeremiah was speaking. All God wants is for people to love one another, no matter if the person is male or female, black or white, rich or poor, healthy or sick. Not much to ask, I don’t think.

 

If you were to take Jeremiah’s stories literally, it sounds as if God has made the decision to start all over – that God will “pluck up and break down and destroy”. But I don’t think that’s actually the case…

 

To rework clay, a potter would just smash his hand on the clay and start over. Instead of simply laying a Divine Hand on the clay and starting over, God gives the people a chance to change – God sends more and more lessons to the Israelites. Rather than destroying all of creation, God continues to spread love, to guide us, and to encourage us to love others. God is choosing to gently mold us lesson by lesson, rather than destroying and rebuilding.

 

The story of Jeremiah at the potter’s house has always struck a chord with me as I feel that it is a reflection of my story. I spent almost my entire life swinging from all-out believer to apparent atheist and back again. As a kid, I only went to church to be with my Grandma but once I was there, I loved the stories and the music.

 

In my teens years I got too busy for church plus no one I knew believed in God, so I decided I didn’t either. However, there were still times when I went to church – usually during occasions of sorrow, or confusion. I never could explain my need to go to church, and it certainly didn’t make me go on a regular basis. But for brief, inexplicable moments, I found peace. I remember at my first Air Cadet summer camp, finding myself feeling homesick. There was a call one Sunday morning for churchgoers to gather for service. I found myself joining them, without completely understanding why.

 

Then almost 17 years ago, everything changed. My oldest child was born. Suddenly, it was very important to me that they be baptized and raised in a church. During the Baptismal interview, my newly-found minister asked me one very important question – why do I want El to be baptized? I couldn’t answer that question right away – I just knew it was something I had to do, something my heart was telling me to do.

 

So the two of us started attending church. My home church had a laid-back evening service on Mondays that were based more on musical reflection than worship, so I started with those services. I was very hesitant in the beginning, unsure of my beliefs and my reasons for being there. I didn’t even take part in communion the first few times we came.

 

My personal turning point came on Maundy Thursday during the Easter season following El’s baptism. At the last moment, I was asked to read the following passage from Corinthians:

 

“For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ In the same way he took the cup, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.’ For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” (1 Cor 11:23-26)

 

When I was asked to read the passage, I had no idea those were the words that were on the page. I hadn’t read a bible in years so, in my head, they came as a surprise. I think I hesitated somewhere around “this is my body”. The realization of the words I was about to speak struck me speechless. The institution of the Last Supper is such an important part of Jesus’ story; I was humbled and honoured to be speaking these words aloud. In my head, these words should have only been spoken by priests.

 

Suddenly, I felt something on my shoulder. I looked over but of course there was no one there. It was a very powerful moment – I knew in my heart God was telling me it was okay to go on, to finish reading the Prayer. That’s when I really started listening to the readings, to the songs, to the prayers.

 

I learned the Lord’s Prayer as a child – said it in school, said it at the dinner table – but I never really listened to the words. Same with all the music. Most of it was the same as when I was little, but only at this point did I really start to understand the meaning of the words behind the music. As I started really hearing the words, I finally understood what God had been trying to say to me all these years – that God is here, that God wants to be a part of my life, and the God loves me. God’s words are beautiful and have changed my life.

 

I finally stopped to listen and let God’s hands guide me in the right direction. Looking back on my wavy path from believer to non-believer, back again, and now to being a priest, I’ve come to realize that the lesson I learned along the way was not only did God love me and accept me, but that it’s also okay to change. It’s more than okay – God encourages us to learn and to grow, and to be shaped by the lessons we find throughout scripture.

 

As easy as clay in a potter’s hands, a person can be reshaped by turning their mind and heart to the Creator. By reading the word of God, praying to God, and listening to God, we can all be the clay in the hands of the Divine Potter.

 

Amen.

A Year-Long Exploration of the Sermon on the Mount: Week 29

Chapter 29 – Teach Us to Pray

 

Praying is a big deal to Christians. It’s how we stay in contact with God. We pray for many things like forgiveness, strength, gratefulness, thanksgiving, health, and the list could go on. We pray for everything and anything, all in simple conversation with God. Praying doesn’t have to be complicated.

 

In this chapter, Elton Trueblood warns about rote prayer, saying that “One of the chief ways to deny Christ is to turn any of his words into what he called ‘empty phrases’.” (p. 184) While I do agree that sometimes it feels as if we say pieces of our liturgy simply by rote, without thinking much about what the words mean, there are also times where repetitive prayer is useful and soulful.

 

Repeating the Lord’s prayer when you don’t know what else to say.

Reciting the rosary.

Having a mantra.

These are all prayers that are simple, can be said anytime, and are repetitive. The important thing is to make sure that each time you say your prayer, you’re not just racing through the words. Keep you mind and soul activated while you pray, each and every time.

Table Talk: A Sermon for the 12th Sunday After Pentecost

Photo Credit: Karen Laårk Boshoff on pexels.com

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer. Amen 

During my postulancy (a training period while working to become an Anglican priest), I spent a year visiting various churches around the city. My goal was to quietly sneak in, observe worship and preaching, take notes of what I liked and didn’t like about it all, and quietly sneak back out again. What I found interesting was the rarity at which I was approached. I was a stranger to these churches. I wasn’t a face seen in the pews each week. And yet, it was a rare occasion when someone greeted me. I was quite surprised, but perhaps I was spoiled. I come from a parish whose greeters knew every parishioner and when someone new arrived, they were given a handshake, asked what brought them there, and then directed as to how to follow along with the bulletin during worship.

 

The church can be a great source of community, a community of mutual love. This mutual love is the foundation of doing good and sharing what you have. This mutual love is the foundation of being in relationship with God, and with each other. Our ministry of community stems from worship and fellowship. As leaders in our church, we are tasked with making the space inclusive and welcoming – in words and in actions. It is not our job to gate keep or to guard the pews. We do not get to decide who is allowed to be part of the community and who is to be kept outside. And the main place of that inclusivity is at the table. We call ourselves Christians, but Jesus Christ did not create the Christian church. I’ll leave that as a lesson for another time, but my point is that while Jesus may not have birthed a church, he did birth a table. A table at which he even included his betrayer.

 

Luke’s gospel includes more meal-time scenes that all the others, with several stories ending with a festive meal. A couple of examples are the parable of the prodigal son in chapter 15 and the ultimate meal of the Last Supper in chapter 22. For Luke, eating around the table is the place where lessons are learned, where there is intimacy and relationship, and where it is made clear that everyone is allowed to be there.

 

This intimacy and relationship can be found around our own kitchen and dining room tables. Whether it be with family or friends, gathering around the table, eating dinner together, sharing stories from their days with each other – this all leads to loving and meaningful relationships. The sharing of meals brings people closer together, and it also gives us the opportunity to possibly meet people we may not have met before, bringing inclusivity to that table. I read somewhere that rather than limiting the seats at the table, just make the table bigger.

 

That is what Christ’s table is all about – being open to everyone. Later on in the service, listen closely to the words of invitation to communion that I will be saying. Listen, and take them to heart. Christ has invited everyone to join him at the table. Our job to is make more room at the table, and to ensure that we are making room for all, not a select few. We are creating a loving community in order to follow in the loving footsteps of Jesus Christ.

 

Making room for the stranger may upset the balance of the church, but opening the doors of the church is not meant to be a threatening situation. Making room for the stranger reaffirms the humanity of all persons. Our humanity is not based upon the ability to walk upright on two legs, or on our intelligence quotient, or on our capacity for knowledge. What it means to be human is shaped by our understanding of the importance of the community and the affirmation that we are all created in the image of God. Each of us springs forth from the imagination of God regardless of who we are.

 

Jesus spent his whole life breaking down barriers and bringing forth the inclusive love of God. We are all called to the same generosity in sharing that love with everyone we meet. We have a chance to show that generosity every day, and especially on Sundays when we have a banquet in Jesus’ name. The invitation to this banquet, to Jesus’ table, must be inclusive, with no exceptions – featuring a welcome to share in the ministry of Word and Sacrament, as well as the many other ways that the church enriches people’s lives. As Christians and as the leaders of St Peter’s, we are on duty as hospitable servants of Christ. We are to welcome not only one another but also outsiders and the abundance of people waiting on the margins.

 

When we give a banquet in the name of Jesus, both the doors and our arms must be open wide. As we will sing in our final hymn,

“Draw the circle wide.

Draw it wider still.

Let this be our song,

no one stands alone,

standing side by side,

draw the circle wide.”

 

God, help us to celebrate a life of love-filled community by seeing others through your eyes of grace-filled mercy. May we grow in our awareness of your love, so that we may act with openness of heart to others, seeing them as your beloved children.

 

Amen.

Resources

pulpitfiction.com

episcopalchurch.org

https://www.webmd.com/a-to-z-guides/features/family-dinners-are-important

"Luke for Everyone" by NT Wright

A Year-Long Exploration of the Sermon on the Mount: Week 28

Chapter 28 – The Father Knows

 

God knows what we want and what our is path is, so why do we bother with prayer? Why do we bother asking God for things?

 

I have an issue with the belief that God has created a path for us when we were born and there’s nothing we can do about it. If that were the case, wouldn’t life be so much easier? If our lives are already laid out, then explain to me the gut-wrenching feeling of anxiety that I experience on almost a daily basis. Or the panic attacks that some of us go through. Or the suddenness of illness and death that brings on debilitating grief.

 

“God knows” doesn’t mean that our lives are predetermined. God gave humanity free will which means we make choices every day about how our lives are going to play out. The result is that we are often praying to God for surface things, but God knows what’s deep down in our hearts, and God walks with us through our lives, answering our heart-felt prayers each and every day.

 

Yes, I do believe that God answers our prayers. It’s just that sometimes those answers come in unexpected ways, or simply not in exactly in the way we wanted. God answered my prayers regarding my call, but it has come with it much unexpected hardship, pain, and grief that I now have to figure out how to process. You can’t tell me that this was God’s plan for me? But I can take to heart that God stands by me through it all.

 

Finally, in our prayers, we can’t forget to thank God! After reading what I just wrote, how can I possible ask you to thank God? It is definitely a step that we often forget. God gave us all of creation, our lives, and everything we find on our path. The happy and the sad, the ups and the down, everything from birth until death. We pray to God asking for things but often forget to thank God for it all.

 

God knows us to our core. God loves us from birth until death. Thank you God for it all.

A Review of the Book "Gwendy's Button Box" by Stephen King

Title: Gwendy's Button Box

Author: Stephen King

Publisher: Simon & Schuster Inc

Year: 2017

166 pages

From the Back: The little known town of Castle Rock, Maine, has witnessed some strange events and unusual visitors over the years, but there is one story that has never been told - until now.

    In the summer of 1974, twelve-year-old Gwendy Peterson encounters a stranger sitting on a park bench, dressed in black jeans, a black coat, and a black bowler hat - unusual for such a warm day. This man in black is here in Castle Rock specifically to pass along an obligation for Gwendy that is both fantastic and terrifying: on his behalf and for an unspecified period of time, she must take possession of and hide from the rest of the world a small mahogany box adorned with multicolored buttons and levers. The reward for safeguarding the box will transform her life in ways Gwendy could never imagine, but the price to pay for her failure could very will mean the end of everything.

Personal Thoughts: This is the first of King's novellas that I have read and I have to admit, it was strange to be able to read it so quickly. Gwendy's Button Box is an easy read, lacking King's usual thriller qualities, although there were still some freaky moments in the story. A fresh relief before I head back into King's darker novels.

A Review of the Book "Queer & Christian" by Brandan Robertson

Title: Queer & Christian

Author: Brandan Robertson

Publisher: St Martin's Essentials

Year: 2025

243 pages

From the Back: For too long, the Bible has been weaponized to exclude LGBTQ+ individuals, despite Jesus' radical message of inclusion. In Queer & Christian, acclaimed public theologian and TikTok pastor Brandan Robertson envisions a faith that unequivocally embraces everyone.

    Ostracized at school, Brandan thought he had finally found his community when he joined the local church. But he soon realized its parishioners were as intolerant as his peers at school had been - if not more so. After agonizing years of repressing his true identity, he discovered that God's table has always had a place for him, and for you! Jesus' love knows no bounds, embracing everyone unconditionally.

Personal Thoughts: Queer & Christian is an incredible book and an important one for queers and allies alike to pick up and read. Robertson dives into the clobber passages, celebrates queer saints, and responds to commonly asked questions, all in the name of helping the queer community to reclaim our place at God's table.

    My one critique would be the sections that discussed sexual ethics. I have no problem with the discussion itself, but I wasn't always on the same page of Robertson on this topic.

    The section titled "Seeing Ourselves in Scripture", however, was quite enjoyable. Here Robertson explored the queer relationships found within the Bible, such as Ruth and Naomi, David and Jonathan, and Jesus and his beloved disciple.

    This book was an easy read and I strongly recommend it.

A Review of the Book "Forrest Gump" by Winston Groom

Title: Forrest Gump

Author: Winston Groom

Publisher: Simon & Schuster Inc

Year: 1986

248 pages

From the Back: "Bein a idiot is no box of chocolates," but "at least I ain't lead no hum-drum life," says Forrest Gump, the lovable, surprisingly savvy hero of this wonderful comic novel. When the University of Alabama's football team drafts Forrest and makes him a start, that's only the beginning! He flunks out - and foes on to be a Vietnam War hero, a world-class pong-pong player, a wrestler, and a business tycoon. He compares battle scars with Lyndon Johnson, discovers the truth about Richard Nixon, and suffers the ups and downs of true love. Now, Forrest Gump is telling all - in a madcap, screwball romp through three decades of the American landscape. It's Gump's amazing travels, and you've got to read them to believe them.

Personal Thoughts: Forrest Gump is one of my favorite movies. So I was pretty excited to find a copy of the book that started it all. Unfortunately, I was completely disappointed. I haven't yet come across a book that I disliked more than this one. I have no idea how they got the movie from the story within these pages. They are completely different, except maybe the underlying love story with Jenny, although even that story has differences. The book was crass and lacked all of the innocence found in Gump's on-screen character. I am usually a fan of book over movie, but this is one book I'm telling you not to bother with, especially if you're a Forrest Gump fan.

A Review of the Book "This is My Body" by Christina Beardsley & Michelle O'Brien

Title: This is My Body

Author: Christina Beardsley & Michelle O'Brien

Publisher: Darton, Longman, and Todd Ltd

Year: 2016

189 pages

From the Back: Much has been said and written about trans people by theologians and church leaders, while little has been heard from trans Christians themselves. As a step towards redressing the balance, This is My Body offers a grounded reflection on people's experience of gender dissonance that involved negotiating the boundaries between one's identity and religious faith, as well as a review of the most up-to-date theological, cultural, and scientific literature.

    The book has been compiled and edited by Christina Beardsley, a priest and hospital chaplain, writer, and activist for trans inclusion in the church, and Michelle O'Brien, who has been involved in advocacy, research, lecturing, and writing about intersex and trans issues. It includes contributions from many people associated with the Sibyls, the UK-based confidential spirituality group for transgender people and their allies.

Personal Thoughts: Although based in the UK, this book was very insightful. It was not the easiest read, but it was good to hear experiences directly from the mouths of transgender and intersex people. There were a lot of references to the British medical process but it was still good information that could be transferrable to Canada. A lot of the books I've been reading about the transgender experience seem to be giving the same information, which means we might actually be on the right path to taking proper care of our trans siblings.

You Are Set Free: A Sermon for the 11th Sunday After Pentecost

Photo Credit: Liam Riby on unsplash.com

The following sermon is heavily influenced by the thoughts of my friend and colleague, Deacon Michelle Collins of the MNO Synod.

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer. Amen. 

My sermon this morning is heavily influenced by the thoughts of my friend and colleague, Deacon Michelle Collins of the MNO Synod.

 

What is it like to feel bent over and unable to stand up straight? Some of us have experienced spending a few hours in the garden or doing a task that requires us to bend over and then groaning as we stretch back into a standing position. Others of us are familiar with the impact and effect of age as we realize that our joints and muscles aren’t working the way they used to. Others just learn to live with the bodies that they have, which may not fit the expected norm in one way or another. But more significantly, I would imagine that all of us know the limitations of perspectives, feelings, or experiences that restrict us from leaning into our full selves.

 

Standing up straight is just as much a matter of confidence in your identity as it is a matter of stature and stability. Throughout much of my life, I walked a little bit hunched over, my face pointed to the ground. I was shy. I had braces. I didn’t like the way I looked. I didn’t want people to look at me. I didn’t like looking into people’s faces. That changed a little bit during my time in air cadets. I excelled in that program, gaining confidence in myself and in my abilities. But that really only showed when the uniform was on. It was like I was a different person then.

 

Mostly, I was bent over, in big sweaters, with my arms across my body. I had no confidence in my identity. And when I look back on those years, knowing who I am now, it makes complete sense. I was self-conscious about my body, knowing deep inside that it didn’t look or feel the way it was supposed to. Hindsight is 20/20, but it doesn’t change that I spent decades looking down at my feet as I went through the world.

 

In our gospel reading today, Jesus is teaching in the synagogue on the sabbath and notices a woman who has been bent over for many years. She was unable to stand up straight. Most scholars suspect this woman was suffering from a physical ailment that was affecting her spine. Maybe it was scoliosis, or arthritis. But what if it was more spiritual than physical? What if the weight of her life was so heavy that it caused her to look down at her feet as she moved through her life? After years of looking down, your shoulders and your back are likely to start hunching over. In the time of Luke’s gospel, this woman would have received a barrage of messages about her lack of self-worth. And whether these messages were direct or indirect, they would have informed her identity – a person of low worth, undeserving of respect, and someone to be ignored.

 

Our virtual and physical spaces are filled with people who cannot stand up straight for a variety of reasons. Some are bent over from physical disease and disorder. Some are bent over from trauma they do not know how to process. Some are bent over from prejudice and bias against various aspects of their identity. Some are bent over from their age and what the common opinion is about what value they bring to society. Some are bent over from generations of internalized shame. Our world is full of people who are bent over and unable to stand up straight.

 

And Jesus sees these people. Jesus sees the woman in the synagogue, and Jesus sees you and me. Jesus’ first word to the woman is a word of freedom and validation. “Woman,” Jesus says, “you are set free from your ailment.” Jesus extends a word of invitation and freedom without hesitation. He doesn’t confirm her faith. He doesn’t ask her all sorts of theological questions. He doesn’t even demand that she becomes one his followers. Jesus healed this woman because he saw her pain and wanted to give her relief, and he demanded nothing in return. For Jesus, this was not a quid pro quo situation. He sees the woman, validates her existence, gives her the freedom to live her life with confidence, and brings her into full inclusion into God’s covenant community.

 

While the woman is the main focus of today’s reading, there is a secondary story of healing, of being set free, but this character’s ailment isn’t as obvious as the stooped over woman. The religious man in our Gospel reading isn’t too happy with Jesus healing the woman. Not because he has a problem with her being healed, but that Jesus did so on the Sabbath, a day where people are to be resting and worshiping God.

The day of Sabbath is meant to be a day of rest, and the religious law at the time stated that no work was to be done on this day. This is because on the 7^th day, after God created the universe, calling it good, God rested and created the Sabbath. Therefore, religious law observes this day of rest as a holy day, where your only task is to give thanks to God for creating the universe. The religious leader objects to what Jesus is saying and doing because it goes against the rules – specifically the commitment to rest on the sabbath. He’s not as upset that Jesus healed the woman as that he did it on the sabbath.

 

But Jesus argues back and asks how the woman is to rest if she is hunched over the way she is? In fact, she won’t be able to rest because of what it is that is keeping her hunched over. We cannot say we value a day of rest when a person in our gathering is being excluded from that rest. We cannot say we value rest when those who are bound by disease, prejudice, oppression, inequality or our ignorance are excluded from experiencing rest. We cannot say we value rest when some among us are excluded from experiencing that rest because of something that is limiting their wholeness.

 

God created the universe and called it good, and then God rested. The day of rest is meant to be holy but are we fully deserving of that kind of a Sabbath? Is the world fully and truly good? Or do we have more work to do? Our communities are filled with people bent over from a spirit that is crippling them. Our systems are bent over from attitudes and beliefs that are crippling us. Jesus desires and proclaims healing and restoration for both. We who profess a commitment to rest are both those in need of healing, and those who are called to participate in making that rest possible – rest for children and youth burdened by limiting expectations and assumptions; rest for marginalized communities exhausted by the burden of systemic injustice and generational trauma; rest for housing and food insecure neighbours exhausted by the burden of finding the very basic necessities for life; rest for those exhausted by the burden of labels, prejudice, hatred, and exclusion; rest for those exhausted from working for justice, reconciliation, and equality for the most vulnerable; rest for you and me, exhausted by the burden of grief, loneliness, shame, fear, and insecurity.

 

Jesus saw the woman bent over from the burdens of disease and daily life. Jesus saw the religious man bent over from the burden of trying to follow the law of the Sabbath. Jesus sees each and every one of us bent over from the burden of whatever it is we are carrying today. Jesus sees us, reaches out to us in love, and says to us, “You are set free.” Through the waters of baptism, we are washed and made clean. We are set free from the ailment of sin. Through the bread and wine of communion we are fed, nourished, and forgiven. We are set free and included in God’s promise of eternal life.

 

Whatever it is that’s keeping you bent over today, you are seen and loved by the One who knows your name and who stays by your side through the darkness of sin and death. You are seen and loved by the one who defeated the power of death so that you might eternally hear the words, “You are set free.”

 

Amen.

Resources:

pulpitfiction.com

Deacon Michelle Collins

Our Next Chapter: A Sermon for the 10th Sunday After Pentecost

Photo Credit: Markus Spiske on pexels.com

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer. Amen.

Well today’s readings are fun, aren’t they? There’s the writer of Isaiah singing a mournful song to an unfruitful vineyard. The letter to the Hebrews speaking about the difficulties of following Christ and the elusiveness of faith. And Luke is talking about Jesus causing division rather than peace and how families and households will be torn apart. These are pretty severe readings, ones that probably make you upset when you hear them. What a great selection to start off my preaching ministry here at St Peter’s. Sheesh! That said, I think there are some nuggets in here that we can lean on as we head into our ministry together, especially considering all of the change that St Peter’s has had to face recently.

 

We know that Jesus was a disrupter. He fought against the Romans and wanted change for a better life for his followers. He tossed tables. He changed peoples’ lives just by walking into those lives. Jesus was a disrupter. But he was also supposed to be a bringer of peace. He was supposed to be the one to join the world in unity. So why are we talking about division and disunity? Is this the same Jesus? We don’t want to think of Jesus as a bringer of division, but there is some truth there.

 

When you think back on the last few years here at St Peter’s, I could probably guarantee that there wasn’t 100% agreement 100% of the time. We’d be kidding ourselves if we thought that. I think the point Jesus is trying to make is that there isn’t anything wrong with disagreement. Jesus is telling us that we are called to the work of discerning, of arguing, of bringing our varied places of experience and individual truths to the table, so that we can work towards peace, unity, and the future of St Peter’s place in the world in relationship with one another.

 

While the words in today’s Gospel are hard to hear, the message we can take away is that if we work hard at it, peace and unity will come. And it is our faith that will move us towards that day through grace with one another. Grace with each other as we learn how to work together, learn how to worship together, and learn how to be at peace with one another. Through all of this, one of the things that we will have to manage during yet another time of transition for St Peter’s, and for me, is expectation, which is a theme I see running through our readings today.

 

We’re all familiar with the anguish of unmet expectations. We’ve done everything right, but nothing is going as we planned. In Isaiah, the gardener is trying to figure out what happened to his vineyard. He was expecting grapes in order to make wine, and he got nothing but rotten grapes, even though he did everything right in caring for his vineyard. The gardener’s expectation of a full harvest of grapes wasn’t met and now he’s asking why. We know that feeling. We all know that even if we follow every proper step, sometimes the unexpected happens. And often we don’t see it coming because it’s not like we can see into the future.

 

Luke also talks about how things don’t always happen as we expect them to. When we see clouds in the sky, we expect rain. But does it always rain? We feel hot winds, so we expect a scorching heat. But is that always the case? We expect Jesus to bring peace, and yet he talks about bringing division. So, what can we do about our expectations, and the knowledge that sometimes our expectations fall short of reality? Let’s turn to the reading from Hebrews. Perhaps there’s some answers there.

 

The letter to the Hebrews tells us what we know in our hearts as Christians. That we can look to Jesus for strength and for perseverance through anything that we are going through, including disagreements, transitions, and expectations, met and unmet. And we can be reassured that God walks with us through our entire faith journey. This knowledge is something important that we need to hold on to.

 

At the end of July, I turned the page on the previous chapter of my faith journey. A leap of faith that was taken almost a year ago has come to fruition with me standing here before you. Having left everything I know behind, including my family, nothing has gone as expected since I left Winnipeg at the beginning of the month. But in situations like this, I can find support when I surround myself in a community of faith, with people of faith. When you are surrounded by a living cloud of witnesses to Jesus, you can’t help but feel uplifted and not alone.

 

Now that I am here, the work has begun, and we will be turning the page on our next chapter together. Sure, there will be bumps in the road, disagreements, and unexpected events. But no matter what, we are in it together, our faith in Jesus will keep us strong, and God will be walking with us every step of the way.

I want to leave you with two questions to ponder as you leave this place. I hope they spark conversation amongst us all.

1)      What are your hopes for our ministry together?

2)      How do you think God will speak through this church to share the gospel?

I think it’s important for us to share how we each hear God speaking to us, even if it’s not in the same way that other people hear it. It will help us to understand each other’s hopes and dreams for this congregation as we start our new chapter together. As we take these first steps together in our faith journeys, I pray that God’s love and mercy will uphold us all by the grace and power of the Holy Spirit.

Amen.

Resources:

pulpitfiction.com

"Feasting on the Word" edited by David L Bartlett & Barbara Brown Taylor

Pastor Tyler Gingrich

Bishop Jason Zinko