These blogs are the true and unedited me. They are spiritual, religiously liturgical, honest, and transparent. This is me.
Friday, June 28, 2024
A Review of the Book "The Kaiju Preservation Society" by John Scalzi
Wednesday, June 26, 2024
A Review of the Book "The Last Week" by Marcus J Borg & John Dominic Crossan
Tuesday, June 25, 2024
Professional Sports and the National Anthem
Friday, June 21, 2024
David and Goliath: The Assumption of Perception: A Sermon for the 5th Week After Pentecost
May only truth be spoken and only truth
received. Amen.
In
our reading from Samuel, we got to hear the familiar story of David and
Goliath.
But
before we get to the fun stuff like using slingshots, I want to give you a
little bit of background to our story.
Ancient
Palestine had along its eastern border a mountain range. In that mountain range
are all of the ancient cities of that region – Jerusalem, Bethlehem, Hebron.
Then
there's a coastal plain along the Mediterranean where Tel Aviv is now and
connecting the mountain range with the coastal plain is a series of valleys and
ridges that run east to West. You would have to go through this valley to get
from the coastal plain to the mountains.
This
part of Israel is full of forests and wheat fields and vineyards.
More
importantly, though, in the history of that region, it had a real strategic
function. It is how hostile armies on the coastal plain find their way up into
the mountains and threaten those living in the mountains.
That’s
where we are in today’s reading from Samuel.
The
Philistines, who are the biggest of enemies of the Kingdom of Israel, are
living in the coastal plain. They are originally a seafaring people, and they
start to make their way through one of the valleys up into the mountains.
They
want to occupy the highland area right by Bethlehem and split the Kingdom of
Israel in two.
The
king of Israel, King Saul, obviously catches wind of this and Saul brings his
army down from the mountains and confronts the Philistines in the valley of Elah,
one of the most beautiful of the valleys in the area.
The
Israelites dig in along the northern ridge and the Philistines dig in along the
southern ridge and the two armies just sit there for weeks and stare at each
other.
They're
deadlocked. Neither could attack the other because to attack the other side
you've got to come down the mountain into the valley and then up the other side
and you're completely exposed.
So,
finally, to break the deadlock, the Philistines send their mightiest warrior
down into the valley floor and he calls out and he says to the Israelites, “send
your mightiest warrior down and we’ll have this out, just the two of us!”
This
was a tradition in ancient warfare called single combat. It was a way of
settling disputes without incurring the bloodshed of a major battle.
The
Philistine sent down their mighty warrior. He is a giant. He's 9 feet tall. He's
outfitted head to toe in this glittering bronze armor and he's got a sword and
he's got a javelin and he's got a spear.
He
is absolutely terrifying. He's so terrifying that none of the Israelite
soldiers want to fight him.
It's
a death wish, right? There's no way they think they can take him.
Finally,
the only person who will come forward is this young shepherd boy, who goes up
to Saul and he says, “I’ll fight” and Saul says, “you can't fight! That's
ridiculous! You’re just a kid, he is a mighty warrior!”
But
the shepherd is adamant. He says, “no, no, no, you don't understand! I have
been defending my flock against lions and wolves for years. I can do this!”
Saul
has no choice. No one else has come forward. Saul says, “alright then.” He
turns to the kid and says, “but you've got to wear this armor. You can't go as
you are.”
He
tries to give the shepherd his armor and the shepherd says no, “I've never worn
armor before! You’ve got to be crazy!”
The
shepherd boy reaches down, instead, and picks up five stones and puts them in
his shepherd’s bag and starts to walk down the mountainside to meet the giant.
The
giant sees this figure approaching and calls out, “come to me so I could feed
your flesh to the to birds of the heavens and to the beasts of the field!” He
is taunting this person coming to fight him.
The
shepherd draws closer and closer and the giant sees that he's carrying a staff.
That's
all he's carrying, instead of a weapon, just this shepherd staff.
And
the giant, insulted, says, “am I a dog that you would come to me with sticks?”
The
shepherd boy takes one of the stones out of his bag, puts it in his sling, and
rolls it around and let's it fly, and it hits the giant right between the eyes!
Right in his most vulnerable spot, and he falls down, unconscious.
The
shepherd boy runs up, takes the giant’s sword, and cuts off the giant’s head. The
Philistines see this, and they turn and run.
The
ever-popular story of David and Goliath, where David has always been considered
the underdog, with the assumption that Goliath should have won that fight.
Why
is this the assumption?
Is
it because Goliath is so tall and David is so small?
Is
it because Goliath has all the weapons and David has nothing but a sling and a
rock?
In
general, we tend to judge people by their appearance, even if we don’t mean to.
Think
for a moment about your reaction to the following images:
A
big guy, wearing a leather jacket covered in tattoos and piercings?
A
woman dressed in a business suit?
A
group of teenagers hanging out on the corner?
A
person sitting outside 7-11 asking for change?
An
elderly-looking couple sitting on their porch?
A
well-kept lawn?
A
backyard full of car parts and other random items?
Take
note of your internal reactions to those images.
Perception
is everything, and yet, it means nothing.
We
don’t know anything about those people or those homes. We see them and we make
an assumption based on our perception.
When
David walks out to meet Goliath in the valley, we can imagine the Philistines
laughing at David’s size and the Israelites embarrassed that their smallest
person was the only one with courage enough to face the giant.
But
they knew nothing about David, the shepherd of sheep who protects his flock
from lions and other prey on a daily basis.
David,
the man who is a sharp-shooter with a sling – a sling, not a sling-shot – 2
very different weapons – who was trained to take down a rushing lion in a
single shot.
Our
perception of people, our assumptions about them, need to go beyond exterior
looks.
We
need to look deeper into a person’s life history in order to get to know them,
and even then, it is not our place to judge, but to have empathy and grace.
We
also need to consider other people’s perception of us.
June
is Pride month, but it also National Indigenous History Month. And June 21 was National
Indigenous Peoples Day where we were to recognize and celebrate the history,
heritage, resilience and diversity of First Nations, Inuit and Métis across
Canada.
We
have created a perception that we walk with the Indigenous community, thousands
of souls who were stolen, survived, lost, and now found.
But
it’s easy to grieve for these babies and children, taken from their families
never to return, or never to be the same again.
It’s
easy to reflect an air of grief and sorrow for the families.
It’s
all about perception.
Now
we need to care and grieve for those who survived.
We
need to action on behalf of the alcoholic, the drug addict, the beggars, and
the parents who never got to parent.
We
need to walk with those who physically survived Residential Schools but have
lost their futures.
We
need to recognize that we have an opportunity to correct our perception of the
Indigenous community by learning the factual history of Canada, extend
apologies, and make change for the future of our relationship with them.
It
is easy to be Goliath, a giant who expects everyone to tremble before us. A
giant who will stomp on anyone in our way.
We
need to be David. Going into the fight with nothing but a few stones and a
strong faith in God as our weapons.
When
David’s stone hit Goliath in the forehead, history was forever changed.
Now
it’s time for us to pick up our stones, hold tight to our faith, and take down
our own Goliaths.
Amen.
Tuesday, June 4, 2024
A Review of the First 3 Books from the Haunted Canada Series by Pat Hancock
A Review of the Book "The Skin We're In" by Desmond Cole
Friday, May 31, 2024
The Inescapable God: A Sermon for the 2nd Week After Pentecost
Grant
us your peace, we pray, as justice and love pour down upon the yearning earth.
Amen.
During
our typical Sunday worship, there are usually four readings: one from
the Hebrew Bible, one from the book of Psalms, one from the Epistles, and one
from the Gospel.
The Gospel is, of course, the most important of the readings, and in our shortened
services in the summer, you will notice we drop the Epistle. This is because those
readings are usually echoes of the Gospel.
However, the psalms seem to get slightly brushed over. At
one time, the Psalms were the centre of worship services. They were sung,
recited, meditated, and made the centre of prayer. In fact, if you look at the evening
prayer liturgy it is made up almost entirely of psalms, but we don’t really do
evening prayer anymore. There are still parishes that will put their
psalm reading to music, but others, as we do, read them responsively as a group. The psalms can take on a completely differently
feel when they are put to music rather than spoken.
Even
us clergy don’t usually favour preaching on the psalms, focusing instead on one
of the other readings with the goal of linking them to the gospel – whether it
be the actual gospel reading or the overall Good News of Jesus Christ.
The Psalter,
written mostly by King David, is a collection of beautiful Hebrew poetry
written in the forms of prayer, meditation, and song that comes together to
create one book of praise, worship, prayer, and thanksgiving. For the season of
Pentecost, I want to challenge myself to lean more into the psalms and hopefully,
where we only hear pieces, encourage you to go read the full texts and to truly
hear the powerful words of the Psalter.
Why
do we only get pieces of the psalms, you ask? Well, one possible reason is because
they are too long to read at one time (check out the length of Psalm 119!), but
usually it’s because the creators of the lectionary have decided the verses
they’ve omitted were too hard for us to hear.
Today’s
psalm is an example of this – we only get to hear 2 of 4 parts. Part 2 is quite
lovely and talks about God being ever-present in our lives, no matter where we
find ourselves, however the last part is basically a plea from the writer to
kill wicked people and the people the writer hates. So, I guess leaving that
last part out is ok but we shouldn’t ignore that it is there.
Despite
the strange turn at the end, Psalm 139 is a love poem to God. It reminds me of
a sonnet by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. I’m sure some of you have heard it
before, even studying it in school:
How do I love thee?
Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the
depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach,
when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being
and ideal grace.
I love thee to the
level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by
sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as
men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as
they turn from praise.
I love thee with the
passion put to use
In my old griefs, and
with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a
love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I
love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all
my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee
better after death.
Can
you count the ways you love God? Can you count the ways that God loves you? Is
it as the last line says, “I try to count them – they are more than the
sand”? If
you were to make a list of the ways that God loves you, or that you love God,
what would be on that list? Is it finite, or infinite?
The
writer of Psalm 139 is relaying to us their loving relationship with God, the
intimacy they have with the Creator, a relationship where God knows everything
about them. God knows everything that happens and sees into our inner most
depths. It is a relationship comparable to that of a parent and child. Is there
a love greater than that? When we hear this psalm, there is a power in its
words that lifts us up to God as like children into the arms of a parent.
God
the creator knows us better than we even know ourselves. As with a parent, in
God’s loving arms we have safety, we have belonging. Our needs are anticipated;
our desires are foreseen. Within the words of the psalm, we become aware of God’s
loving and constant care for us. As the one who created us, God has been with
us since before birth, knitting us in our mother’s womb. As the one who created
us, God will be with us at the end of our life, to take us by the hand and walk
us home. As the one who created us, God will be with us at every stage of our
lives – from the end of preschool to graduating from high school, with
university students moving out of home for the first time, with recent empty-nesters,
with the newly retired.
God
loves us in more ways than we can ask or imagine and that is what this psalm is
trying to say to us. To know that each of us were knit together in the womb,
fearfully and wonderfully made by God, is our reminder of the diversity of
creation, the diversity of humankind, and the diversity of our life experiences.
Psalm
139 invites us to be open to God’s presence in unimaginable ways and insists
that God will be with us wherever we go and in all that we do. What more can we
need or want than to know when we are at the end, when we’ve experienced all that
life give us, God is still with us – as he was in the beginning, is now, and forever
will be.
Amen.





