Nevertheless…

 

Also available here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y2_yPF1VZOI  

When I was little, we had a black and white television to watch.  I remember being very curious about it, and the moving pictures inside.  There was only CBC in English and French, and CTV with Popcorn Playhouse on Saturdays.  Every year CBC would have Christmas special shows that quickly became family favorites.  First there was the Charlie Brown Christmas which came out in 1965, with Linus and that sad-looking tree transformed into something beautiful by friendship and co-operation.  Then there was the Grinch, who tried to sabotage Christmas by taking all the gifts and food out of Christmas, until his heart grew by three sizes!

It feels like we have a new kind of Grinch trying to steal our Christmas from us.  But we’re not sure what the Grinch looks like this year.  Is the Grinch a round ball with lots of spikes sticking out of it?  Or a politician changing their message?  Or a doctor who gives us scary numbers?  Or someone who wants to dismiss this as a conspiracy?  Unlike the Grinch who stole all the toys and decorations, this Grinch has allowed us to keep the ribbons and bows and everything that comes from a store; but this Grinch took away our ability to stand hand in hand, singing our old carols and songs.

Nevertheless, we still gather to hear an ancient story that has given people courage and inspiration not just for 55 years, like Charlie Brown and the Grinch, but for thousands of years.  Some years our ancestors in the faith gathered in catacombs under the city of Rome in secret.  Some years our ancestors gathered in Jerusalem, rebuilding it after it was destroyed by the Roman army.  Some years they gathered in hospitals they had founded so poor people could get health care.  Some years they gathered on mission boats travelling the coastlines of Canada with good news, healthcare, education, books and more to BC and Newfoundland.  Some years they gathered on battlefields for a night of soccer with their enemies, or in bombed out churches to sing Silent Night in many languages.  They gathered in different places and different ways to hear this story.

A challenging story of people being forced to be counted for the sake of Caesar’s taxes, showing the power the Roman Empire had over poor peasants .  Government sanctioned bullying and injustice dominated the Mediterranean world, where people lacked basic freedoms and rights.  Nevertheless, they hoped – the people of Israel hoped that one day there would be justice and freedom despite all the evidence that said otherwise.  They clung to their stories and sacred writings that said they were not alone, they were part of a community guided and shaped by God.  They hoped because they could do no other than to hope.

This story is of families uprooted, separated from their loved ones, forced to travel where and when they didn’t want to go.  One young couple, alone, isolated because of Government orders.  The wife heavily pregnant and far from her family and community, but also far from the rumors and gossip that talked about her behind her back, about how her husband was not the father of her child.  The husband fearing that he might be press-ganged by soldiers who had the right to take him away and force him to work on their projects, whether his wife was pregnant or not.

Nevertheless, they dreamed of peace – a time when they and their child would be free from the threat of violence from soldiers, a time where they could eat together with their neighbors, or sleep in their own home without having to leave.  Free from being constantly taxed to pay for an Emperor’s army and never seeing any benefits for themselves.  They dreamed of peace because they needed the world to change.

And did things change.  One day they were two homeless people in a big city.  The next they were three.  The change from being husband to father, from wife to mother that would forever shift how they felt about life.

Nevertheless, they experienced great joy as they saw that tiny baby, they laughed when he yawned, or counted his fingers and toes, amazed to see this tiny one take his first breaths, cry at the shock of being out of that cozy warm womb.  They felt joy at new possibilities, at new opportunities, at the wonder of new birth.

But this story wasn’t just about a young family.  It was about the outcasts, the down-trodden, the people who didn’t have good educations or great job skills, who weren’t seen as doing essential work.  The shepherds living lonely lives cut off from their families as they spent months at a time up on the hills for their jobs.  Protecting sheep from wolves and lions and getting precious little recognition for their efforts even though sheep provided food, clothing, milk and cheese for the community.  They were the smelly ones, down on their luck, taking the worst jobs that society had, and being treated like outcasts because they couldn’t come to church regularly like they were supposed to.

Nevertheless, they found they were loved, not just by each other, but by the wonderful mystery that spoke to them one night of awe, of not being afraid, of peace and hope and joy.  They found the love the angels told them about, and it transformed them into love tellers, of hope bearers, and story carriers

This story of love, peace, hope and joy has seen our families and communities through plagues, wars, crusades, and revolutions.  This story has inspired us to collectively work for justice, fair taxes, free education and accessible health care.  It has put kindness as an important part of what it means to be a good citizen.  No more do we judge people based on how good they are with a sword or with words, but with how they change the world for the better.  

Martin Luther never knew that his calm and steady response to the Bubonic Plague would inspire people 500 years later.  Christians taking care of the sick never knew that they would inspire a new movement towards universal healthcare.  Preachers talking about how all humans were loved by God equally never knew that they would help inspire a democratic system and equality under the law. Quakers protesting that all Christians were to be treated justly never knew that one day slavery would be ended.  Methodist missionaries piloting their boats along the shorelines of Canada never knew they were building community.  Nevertheless, they let this story inspire their faith and their actions.

Just as I never knew how much better a color tv would be from black and white or how that there would be more than two channels on tv as I was growing up, I do not know how these times we live in will look 500 years from now.  But this ancient story reminds us that we can and will see changes that will be an inspiration for years to come.  God is with us in these times, through these ancient stories of resiliency and hope.   We are not alone, and nevertheless, God’s peace and love will continue with us and generations to come far into the future.

What brings you Joy?

 

When I was little, my mom used to bring out a little tin tray of colorful squares for my brother and me.  She would give us paint brushes and water in plastic cups and the backs of old cereal boxes.  If we were lucky, we might get some school papers with blank back pages.  We would dip our brushes in the cup and put a drop of water on the little squares.  Almost like magic, the squares would turn from dry dusty bits of desert into vivid wet colors that then transformed the boring beige cardboard into rainbow colored unicorns, big beautiful butterflies and magical talking plants.  To Mom, I’m sure they were unidentifiable blobs of color, but for me, each piece was a vivid story with characters who had grand adventures and deep passions.

I took up painting again when my babies started being born.  We made bathtub paint where I mixed shaving cream with powder paint in an old muffin tin.  Or finger paints made from different flavors of pudding when they were still so little that paints ended up in mouths, not just fingers.

Occasionally I would take a break from the laundry and the cooking and sit down with my little ones and do some finger painting with them.  It’s not easy to do as an adult as we ‘know’ what art is, we go from trusting our own skills to making stereotypical flying birds by drawing two eyebrows joined together.  We lose our confidence because we compare ourselves to Cezanne or Emily Carr or Michelangelo, and we can’t measure up.  It was daunting but as I relaxed, it became fun.

This summer I felt the itch to get out my paints again and painted everything from wooden wells to Adirondack chairs.  Then I tried rocks, turning one into a turtle, and another into a frog.  But the one thing I wanted to paint was something that I saw every where.  Dragonflies!

They are more than pretty insects, they were predators that would devour clouds of mosquitos.  I welt up badly every summer but this year every time I went for a walk, I would find a bodyguard of dragonflies wherever I went.  And I really wanted to paint one on a rock to remind me that God was more present in my life than dragonflies.  They had come to be special after landing on Brittany’s wedding dress last year, but do you think I could find a decent picture in all the nature books I had at the lake?  Nada, zero.  And they refused to sit still long enough for me to take a photo!

Joy can be like that.  We look for joy in all the wrong places, or we try to manufacture joy, just like I tried to manufacture a photo of a dragonfly.  Joy is illusive and hard to define or describe.  I was surprised to learn the other day that on Oct. 2, 2020, the word schadenfreude, meaning joy at someone else’s misfortunes, according to Merriam-Webster, had shot up in popularity more than 30,000 per cent.  People felt joy that a certain politician was sick with a certain disease, but was it real joy, or more like a sense of karmic justice?  I had certainly felt schadenfreude at the time.  But there’s something unsettling in the feeling of satisfaction hearing that someone we dislike is suffering.  When bad things happen to bad people, is that something we should be testifying to or rejoicing in?  Is that really a Christian attitude?  Is that really joy?

The ancient psalmist wrote of a time of great joy.  It wasn’t because the people of Israel became a nation of painters.  It wasn’t because some tyrant or oppressor got sick.  It wasn’t because they saw a swarm of dragonflies or had celebrated a special event with a big party and lots of food and gifts.  It was because they felt a collective sense of hope in seeing God at work.  Something so unexpected happened to restore their faith in God that even the neighbors were surprised and noticed the astonishing change in their fortunes.  It was like the desert of dryness and tears turned overnight into a tropical paradise.  The rejoicing was spontaneous and surprising and whole-hearted.  The whole country that had faced one long hardship and disappointment after another suddenly could say, “God has done great things for us.”  And a poet turned these feelings into a song that has come down the ages as a witness to God’s commitment to the people.

Just as John was a witness to Jesus, and the psalmist was a witness to future generations, we too are called to be witnesses to God, a God that we believe will turn our tears into thanksgiving, our grief into rejoicing and our hopes into reality.  We are called to witness as best as we can that we are not alone.  We are called to live lives of honesty and authenticity, that shed tears and look into the mirror to recognize when we are not worthy to untie another’s shoelaces, yet we are still led to witness to compassionate living and justice for all.  We are called be powerful witnesses to a faith that transforms tears to joy.

God shows up in mysterious and transformative ways.  Like the day I returned to Athabasca last August and found a dragonfly on my sidewalk.  Now I have a photo and a story to share, not where I expected to find it, and definitely not where I had hoped and planned to find it, but it showed up when I wasn’t looking, as a witness to the mystery of faith, the mystery of joy and the mystery of life.  It reminds me that God is with us, we are not alone, even in times that try nations and are filled with tears.  Our joy will come and our desert times will be transformed.  And what a joyful time that will be!

Searching for Comfort and Peace

Imagine walking into a classroom on a Sunday morning where all the tables have been pushed aside and the chairs are arranged in a circle.  There are smiles and nods, and one fellow speaks up welcoming us to find a seat so they can begin.  There is no cross, no table, no hymn books or bibles to be seen.  We sit in silence for what seems to be forever but is only half an hour.  People share reflections of what came to their minds that they feel called to share.  Someone comments on how they are minded of the call to dress simply, not to adorn themselves with lace and sparkles.  I tuck my feet with my favorite shoes, black ballet flats covered with tiny black beads and sequins, under my chair.  There are no hymns, no bible readings and no sermons other than those reflections spoken into the centre.  It is assumed that the bible readings are a part of the daily practice of individuals at home.  This is the worship service of the Society of Friends in Halifax, whom we call Quakers, and one of the most profoundly peaceful and sacred moments of worship I’ve ever experienced.  The week before we had been to a completely different gathering, a large group with several different musicians and songs by folks like Cat Stevens and Carolyn McDade.  The preacher spoke at length about her pride in being the first atheist to ever graduate from the Atlantic School of Theology and how, in her three years there, she had argued and attacked the primitive ideas of her professors and classmates, some of whom were in their gathering that morning.  They had readings from Maya Angelou and other poets or philosophers. 

My two friends and I felt profoundly uncomfortable after being labled as primitive thinkers and left with much alacrity, not staying for coffee despite the invitation from our classmate.  We retreated to a restaurant, Cora’s, and took turns speaking the longest grace we had ever spoken. 

It was like we had been starved for the Divine and were more hungry for prayer than we were hungry for eggs benny and a mountain of fruit.  That service had filled us with the message that we weren’t good enough, and that everything we thought about was mere superstition and ignorance.  The Quaker service we went to the following week filled us with peace, self-reflection, and a deep sense of the real presence of the sacred.  In a word, we felt comforted.

Comfort oh comfort my people, starts the Isaiah passage and this year more than ever, we need all the comfort we can get.  We’re still not in as dire a situation as the ancient Israelites that Isaiah was writing to, but it’s plenty dire enough.

Whenever I turn, I hear stories of people feeling stressed, whether it’s the customers at grabbing a gingerbread latte from Paddymelons or the news reporter talking to a psychologist on how to help children cope or the loud judgemental voices on Facebook scorning public health officials.  Secret deals to set up emergency hospitals run by soldiers doesn’t help our levels of stress and it’s scary to hear of fist fights in Calgary malls or see photos of exhausted doctors.

So much chaos in the media and in our community does not make for peaceful times.  Where do we turn when we want comfort?  Many folks are turning to drugs and alcohol to manage their anxiety levels; some are turning to their worst habits and patterns as we hear in the latest reports from Healthy Family, Healthy Futures.  Irene Fitzsimmons, whom many of you know, is hearing more and more cases of family violence.  Her case numbers are rising as tempers flare and tolerance drops.

We look for quick fixes and perfect heroes, but we don’t know where we can find them.  Where is the comfort we are seeking, the security we are craving, the sense of peace we are praying for? 

I wonder if this year, we’re more able to appreciate the context and the testimony of our ancestors in faith.  Isaiah is writing to a people who have been suffering in exile for a hundred and fifty years.  It’s been generations since Jerusalem had been taken over by the Babylonians and the inhabitants forced into slavery and exile. 

The level of hope and peace must have been almost nonexistent to the generations who had never experienced the freedom to live where they chose or work at what they wanted.

And yet, one person in the quiet and stillness hears a simple invitation from God, “Go and tell my people that their time of alienation and oppression is nearing to an end, that a new time is coming and their God has not abandoned them.”

We need these words of encouragement today more than ever.  We need the reminder that this too shall pass, that humanity will survive this and the world will change again for the better.  We do this through humbleness, turning away and repenting of the quick fix solutions that only mask our anxieties and don’t deal with the root causes of our discomforts.  We do this by following Isaiah into the wilderness to hear God speak into the silence.   We do this by avoiding preaching like the atheist who bragged of her superiority.  We preach like John who says one greater than I is coming who will baptise with power and authority.

Searching for peace is more than superficial.  It is a daily practice, and a willingness to look at ourselves with honesty, stripping off layer after layer like peeling an onion.  To spend time looking at our actions and reactions and ask gentle questions of ourselves, where did that impatience come from, what was that resentment about, why did I react so strongly?  And remember that God says to us, “I come with a strong arm to set things right and a gentleness that gathers us like a flock of sheep and lambs”.  We practice peace with God’s loving presence, and that is good news worth shouting from the mountaintops and sharing with the world.  Thanks be to God that we are not alone in our journey to peace!

What Time is it?

 

This week we start on our Advent journey, looking for hope, peace, joy and love in the most challenging times I have ever known.  I was reflecting on the stories of my family’s challenging times.  My dad told us of how he got measles when he was a young boy and had to lie in bed for weeks without any light in order to protect his eyesight.  How hard it was to stay in bed and not even be allowed to read a book.  He had to rest and wait to get better.  His mom worried about him; there was no treatment except to keep the symptoms of fever down and keep feeding him as healthily as possible.  I was surprised to read that in the 1920’s before he was born, this very infectious disease had a 30% fatality rate due to complications.  Needless to say, there was no doubt in his mind that vaccinations were vital, and from 2000-2017, there’s been an 80% reduction in deaths from measles around the world.  In the 1950’s it was polio, something that my father in law, a phys ed teacher in his mid twenties, almost lost his life to.  His wife would visit him in the polio ward where he was the oldest patient, and it was a long wait before he could see his three sons again.  Again, thanks to vaccines, that is something we have not had to worry about in Canada for a long time.

Now we wait for a vaccine as well as anticipate a time when we will be able to socialize, travel, visit, hug and eat family dinners together.  But as my dad and father in law experienced, now is the time to wait.  Wait in hope not just for a vaccine but for a change in our culture; from the mindset that ‘I am immune’ or ‘I won’t get sick’ or ‘I deserve my rights’ to ‘we are in this together’.  In this time of waiting, let us be inspired by the stories of our families, but also the stories of our faith, stories of people who survive slavery, captivity, war and occupation and find courage and hope and the presence of the Holy as they waited for change to occur.  The story of a courageous young woman pregnant with a culture-changing soul who would challenge our sense of disconnection.  Who would remind us to care for our neighbors.  Who would call us to challenge our preconceptions and biases.  Who would inspire us to call out principalities and powers that take advantage of our fears to promote injustice or self-serving economic policies.  Stories of our faith that proclaim that nothing can separate us from the love of our God, who is with us in life, in death and in life beyond death.  Thanks be to God for this great mystery of our faith!

All Saints Sunday

 

Monica writes: Today we celebrate All Saints Day, a day where we remember all the people who have touched our lives, especially those whom we have loved and lost.  The scriptures remind us that saints are not super-hero Christians, but ordinary folks doing their best to follow Christ’s teachings.  They were blessed and were a blessing and we remember them flaws and all with love.  At this time of unprecedented change, our opportunities to mourn our losses have been curtailed as never before.  Today we share in an ancient tradition, of remembering and lamenting both our bereavements and our day to day losses of so much we took for granted.  The ability to hug.  To gather together in times of joy and sorrow.  To smile and laugh and sing.  We are in the midst of a great redefinition of what normal is, and part of that is remembering that we are not alone.  Today we share the words of Alan Wolfelt who penned this supportive wisdom for all who grieve and lament.

Dr. Alan Wolfelt is a specialist in grief support and  writer of the Mourner's Bill of Rights found here:  https://www.centerforloss.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/MBR.pdf  

These times we are living in mean that even if we have not lost a loved one this year, we are still having our lives turned upside down.  We may never go back to wha
t we remembered life being like, and just like our families who lived through immigration to a new land, the Spanish Flu, the Great Depression, two world wars and more, we will live through this.  Even death cannot stop the good news of God’s redemptive love.  God is still at work, transforming and making new in the midst of tragedy.  This is Christianity’s greatest message, that God is with us in life, in death, in life beyond death, we are not alone, thanks be to God!

Where are you going? Why are you going there?

Last Wednesday, Athabasca’s mayor, Colleen Powell, uttered these two questions as part of her monthly town talk live interview on Facebook.  Now that the radio station has no local voice, and no way to do live community broadcasts, the newspaper has turned to providing Her Worship with a similar platform.  You can message her or watch her in the comfort of your own home.  Mayor Powell has adapted, the Advocate has adapted, and we have adapted too.  But some questions stay the same.

Where are you going? Why are you going there?

Where are you going, Moses?  He thought he was going to the Promised Land.  But he wasn’t.  God showed him where the people would eventually end up, but Moses would not be the one to lead the people home.

That seems like a very cruel fate, almost like God is playing cat and mouse with Moses.  If Moses was so great and so wonderful, why didn’t he, full of vigor and keen eyesight, get to enter the Promised Land? In chapter 32, Yahweh said that both Moses and Aaron ‘both broke faith in the presence of the Israelites and did not uphold God among the Israelites.”  The ancient Hebrew language uses stronger language than this translation, words like ‘acted treacherously’ and ‘did not sanctify God’ in front of the people.  Pretty stark accusations.

In other words, God accused Moses of waffling, of not keeping faith, of failing in his leadership.

Which makes me wonder – if Moses, the paragon, the most courageous leader ever experienced by the Hebrew people, wasn’t able to keep the faith, what chance do normal humans have to be leaders?

Except there was one leader that was greater than Moses.  One who had gone through similar trials, according to the gospel of Matthew.  As an infant, this leader’s life was threatened by a scary king, just like Moses in the bulrushes.  This leader lived in Egypt as a child.  Lived in the wilderness, where there was little food to eat or water to drink, alright, it was 40 days, not 40 years, but still that was a parallel.  A leader that Matthew said would often go up to the top of mountains to have powerful experiences of God.  Who would come down from the mountains and have new powerful teachings to share with his followers.  Who dueled and competed with those who sought to challenge his power just as Moses had dueled with the priests of Pharaoh.  And just like Moses, when he competed with them, his answers were so profound, so deep, so committed to God that his opponents were left speechless.

This new Moses talked of a new kind of law, written not on stone tablets, but on the hearts and minds of followers, who talked about living a sacrificial life.  He was guided by the signposts of love of God and love of neighbor.  This new Moses was unwavering in his commitment to God and to the message of a new community of faith where anyone could have a relationship with God as intimate as the relationship people had with their own parents.  He was so committed to God and to the message God had sent him with, that he was even prepared to die as a witness to that message.  That commitment was unshaken by state-sanctioned torture and execution.

And unlike Moses, his death wasn’t the end of the story.  However we interpret Easter, the truth is that at a profound level, Jesus’ message was not stopped by his death, nor were his followers intimidated into silence by his execution.  Instead, they became emboldened to spread his message near and far, and it continues to inspire and motivate change and growth. 

Jesus is still radical today when his teachings call for people to be treated equally no matter where they are born or what language they speak.  Jesus is still challenging us when his parables point to guaranteed incomes.  Jesus still inspires us today when he showed love and care towards people like tax collectors, lepers, Samaritans and more. 

Moses knew the answers to the two questions Mayor Powell asked in her interview this week.  He knew where he was going.  To the Promised Land.  He knew why he was going there, because it was a land where the people of Israel could live free.  But he didn’t know what Jesus knew, that the Greatest Command, Love God, and the one similar, love your neighbor was the answer to the third question he didn’t know the answer to.  The answer of how will you get there?

There are many debates on how to do something.  We’ve seen that recently with the leaked report on the new Social Studies curriculum for primary school children.  We’ve seen that with the plans to remove Chain Lakes and other parks from protective legislature.  We’ve seen that with the angry debates and name calling around wearing masks.  We’ve seen that with the confrontation between first nations and lobster fishermen in Nova Scotia.  We’ve seen that with campaigns such as Black Lives Matter and Me Too.  We’ve seen that when United Church ministers across Canada are ridiculed for their political commentary on issues of universal healthcare, living wages, accessible childcare, environmental issues and more.  We’ve seem that when we hear stories such as Rev. Paul Walfall who has preached in this very building tell us that he’s tired of being followed around by security guards every time he goes to Walmart because he happens to be shopping while black.

Where are we going?  We are going towards a community of God that protects the vulnerable and respects all people regardless of race, religion, gender, sexual identity, language, country of origin, ability and more.  Why are we going there? Because until we all are free, none of us are truly free, and because God calls us to that journey of freedom.  How are we going?  With a reminder that unless we do everything through the lens of Loving God and Loving our neighbor, we labor in vain.

A wiser United Church minister than me summed it up like this “While Christianity is inherently political; it is a politics from above marked by the persuasive power of love, not the politics of below which is marked by the coercive power of the state.”  Now more than ever we are called to exercise love and resist coercion in whatever form we find it.  Love of God, Love of neighbor in everything we do.  May God bless us as we discern how to do so in these changing times.  Amen

Looking for Loopholes

 

Do you ever wonder how other people seem to have an unshakable faith?  How they seem to have all the answers? How they know with certainty what we wish we could believe in with such certainty too? 

I know I have moments where I wonder if there’s a God and what kind of God there is.  Why the world is the way it is, especially right now, and where is God in the midst of all these changes.

So it’s really refreshing to hear today’s scripture about Moses.  How he had experienced a burning bush and that wasn’t enough to make him sure and certain.  How he had gone back to Egypt despite his fears and certainties and was allowed to talk to the very Pharaoh himself and that wasn’t enough to erase his doubts.  How he had been reunited with his birth family and that wasn’t enough.  How he parted the reed sea and that wasn’t enough.  How his people were fed in the desert and found water in the rocks and that still wasn’t enough.  How he had clouds leading by day and fire by night and that still wasn’t enough.  How he was given a constitution for his community and even that wasn’t enough.  Somehow it seems like maybe he was looking for a loophole.  Looking for an excuse that would weasel him out from having to do the hard work of leading the people.  Of having these difficult conversations on the tops of mountains where he was maybe half-afraid of what God would ask him to do next.  Or maybe he was looking for a guarantee that the difficult things were behind him and with God in his pocket, the future was going to be nothing but sunshine and roses.

The scribes and Pharisees were also looking for loopholes, a way to get rid of Jesus, and a way to duck out of taxes.  Paying the government with money carved with the image of a man and words on the coins declaring that man a God contravened the second commandment about graven images.  Looking for a loophole that meant they could disregard Jesus or discredit him in front of the people he was teaching.

We look for loopholes in our lives too, look for ways to duck taxes or avoid changing our behaviors.  When I hear of people suing schools and restaurants over masks without a doctor’s letter, or wandering around in grocery stores defying the signs clearly posted, or when I listen to store clerks frustrated with customers coming in deliberately putting the clerks in uncomfortable positions, I wonder why they are so determined to look for loopholes.

When it comes to loopholes, Christianity doesn’t make it easy. We are to engage in the present circumstances with an eye to the future, what Jesus called the Kingdom of Heaven, something we work towards while living in the now in all its uncertainty.  On one hand, we pay taxes.  On the other hand we keep vigilance for abusive uses of those same taxes.  We are called to both obey and challenge.  Pay to the Emperor what is the Emperor’s and pay to God what is God’s.  Be clear that the Emperor is not God and be clear on our own loyalties.

We are living in a time when many people don’t think about God.  They may not have a connection with God.  They may have bought the idea that they are God and expect to be treated as such.  No regulations or rules for them!  They are not interested in community or what is best for their neighbors or even their family.  They are interested only in making a comfortable life.  This time in history has profoundly shaken up that ideology. 

We may not be able to change them, but we can look at ourselves.  Like Moses, we can take time to ask God some tough questions.  Where are you God?  How do we know you are with us?  How do we know you will be kind to us?  How do we know you are leading us?  We may need to prepare ourselves to hear some tough questions back.  Are we putting God first in our lives?  What does that look like?  How does that impact what we do and how we do it?  Are we paying taxes to our community in appropriate ways or are we looking for loopholes to dodge our responsibilities to the land we live in?  What belongs to God and what do we need to do to pay it back? 

Thinking about putting God first in my life was a big part of my sabbatical this summer. I spent a lot of time reading and praying about leadership and about this community of faith.  One of the practices I added was a daily moment of self-reflection modelled on Ignatius of Loyola.  He recommended we take some time each day asking ourselves if we have given to God that which is God’s, where we have looked for loopholes and where we have seen God’s face.  Like Moses, we mere humans can’t see more than God’s back side, but if we pay attention, we will see God at work in our lives.  Give it a try this week.  Last thing at night or first thing in the morning, ask for God’s help to understand and appreciate the day.  Look for things to be grateful for.  Review the feelings you had.  Choose one of those feelings (positive or negative) and talk to God about it.  Look toward to the new day and ask that God be with you.  We can use these as prayers or journal prompts.  The practice has brought me a sense of peace and hope that has renewed my commitment to you and to God.  It might not be as dramatic as what Moses experienced on the top of the mountain, but in these difficult times it has certainly helped me remember to give to God that which is God’s, my daily living.  It’s comforting to know that God is with us, nudging us along, and quietly growing and supporting us so that one day we may be able to see God face to face like Moses did.  In life, in death, in life beyond death, God is with us, we are not alone!

No bull for me!

 

Ever wonder if God looks down on us and tears out God’s hair in frustration over the antics of beloved humanity? Ever wonder if God is trying to figure out why we mess up and miss the point so often?

We’re supposed to be stewards of the earth but instead we’re users and abusers.  We’re supposed to be taking care of the weak and the powerless but we’re more concerned about seeming weak and powerless.  We’re supposed to be building community but instead we have lost the ability to come together and listen to each other.  We’re supposed to be cultivating values and yet we admire and elect people who are ruthless egotists.  We’re supposed to co-operate with each other and yet we can’t seem to have civil conversations about important matters without resorting to name calling and insults. 

One pundit asked a pertinent question this week:  “is our very culture in North America going through burn-out?”  I think they might be on to something.  Burn out is, according to Psychology today, “a state of emotional, mental, and often physical exhaustion brought on by prolonged or repeated stress. Symptoms include cynicism, depression, and lethargy that most often occur when a person is not in control of how a job is carried out, at work or at home, or is asked to complete tasks that conflict with their sense of self.” This is made worse if people feel like they have no support or help or hope.

I wonder if that’s what was happening with the people waiting for Moses.  40 days and 40 nights is a number that is often used in the Bible to indicate an important length of time.  Noah endured 40 days and nights of rain falling.  Joseph was mourned for 40 days and nights by all the people of Egypt.  Job had 40 days to get the Ninevites to change their behaviours. Jesus spent 40 days and nights fasting in the desert and 40 days after the resurrection before leaving the Apostles again.  So this is a long time both literally and symbolically. 

The people felt abandoned without their leaders.  They were in a state of not knowing what would happen next.  Our translation says that the people turned to Aaron, brother of Moses, looking for leadership, but a more accurate translation might be ‘turned on’ or even ‘turned against’.  Talk about cynicism and depression!  Their culture was at a crossroads.  It doesn’t help that Moses came down with 10 commandments that they were supposed to obey and then went into a pile of details and amendments and blueprints of how to follow those commandments that were far more detailed. Then he disappeared up the mountain, leaving Aaron and the people to struggle with how to make this new constitution work in real life.  Not easy work.  No wonder the people turned!

They didn’t lose Moses, they lost their connection to the Divine, they lost their connection to a future vision, they lost their connection to hope.  They wanted to see and hear and touch and own the connection to the holiness they craved.  They knew they needed to be thankful but they didn’t know how.  So they broke the very first commandment they had been given and once they did that, the other commandments also fell by the wayside.  They partied hard.  They acted the way other cultures acted, they worshipped in the ways other religions worshipped.  And God, wanting a different vision, craving a different relationship, hoping for a different outcome, in this story anyways, reacted with anger and disappointment.

Jesus too was disappointed.  He healed 10 untouchables who had lived with social distancing practices for most of their lives and only one person figured it out.  10% rate is pretty abysmal, and what made it worse, the people he thought would get it, would understand the significance of the healing, his fellow religious community, totally missed the point.  Only the foreigner understood.  Only the foreigner turned back.  Only the foreigner figured it out.

It would be as if an Egyptian charioteer showed up in the middle of the wilderness and said, oh, this is amazing, I love the 10 commandments, I love the ambiguity of not knowing where we’re going, and I love the idea of no longer depending on Pharaoh and the gods of my childhood.  Wouldn’t that have surprised Aaron and the Israelites!

Who are the Samaritans in Athabasca who get it?  Who know the source of their healing and are grateful?  Who can we be learning from that will surprise us? 

I have been working, again it seems, on the homeless situation in our town.  A few weeks ago, Roy Jacobs died at the skatepark down by the riverfront, and a concerned group of citizens are working to help support a mat program for the winter.  The banks are involved as their lobbies were used as warming centres last year.  We even have the mental health professionals involved.  But we don’t have the homeless at the table.  The leper that came back to Jesus to say thank you was told that his faith had made him well.  When we put ourselves in the place of God or Jesus, trying to fix and heal others, we are tempted into building a Golden Calf to our own talents and skills.  Instead, we need to remember that it’s not about us fixing, or saving or advising or correcting others.  That’s what the residential schools really were about.  Us assuming that we have the answers and can heal the problems of the world.  We jump to quick conclusions and judgements and can burn out in our need to solve other people’s problems.  We can become cynical and angry.  Instead, let us turn to the one who is the source of all healing, and turn with openness and curiosity to those around us who are suffering the isolation of modern forms of leprosy.  Let us listen to them as Jesus listened to the foreigner.  It will be by that kind of empowerment of our neighbors that healing, real lasting healing will come about.  And that will be something we can truly be very thankful for!

What kind of God are you?

 Thou Shalt Not!  Don’t you dare! Don’t even think about it!

When I hear the ten commandments, my first response is a little nervous, I have to confess.  I don’t remember watching Charlton Heston as Moses but there were enough illustrated bibles in every waiting room when I was a child that the intimidating image of the old man carrying stone tablets down the mountain in time to see the Israelites partying hard around the Golden Calf left an indelible image in my mind. 

It has left many with an indelible image of an angry judgmental God throwing laws at us like the bad guys shooting at Tom Cruise Mission Impossible climax, determined to get a bead on us and take us down, squishing us like the worms we are.

So not a healthy theology, or a helpful image, is it?  And yet many folks still wrestle with that as their primary image of God.  Especially folks who may never have engaged with church as an adult other than weddings and funerals.  They don’t know any different, they may not understand what is good about God or our supposed Good News.  Especially when our Gospel reading today (Gospel means good news, by the way) is such a violent, bloodthirsty story of people working in a vineyard they do not own, enjoying the local improvements the landowner has done to the farm, and resenting the requests the landowner makes.

Some days it is easy to slip into resentment.  Whether it’s against Moses and those inflexible laws carved into stone, or paying taxes or rent, and especially now with restrictions and rumors flying around, when even so-called civilized leaders calling people they disagree with clowns, or refusing to let other people take turns in conversations or debates, resentment seems rampant.

Rebellion is in the air, and we can’t even walk into a grocery store in town without seeing people rebelling against the new rules.  Even I have gone the wrong way down an aisle at Buylow on occasion.

Other people like to have rules chiseled in stone.  They like the feeling of security and predictability from knowing what will happen every day or at every event.  It’s the unpredictable that is upsetting and discomforting.  They like the certainty of something that will not change ever.

Neither is helpful when you are wandering around in a time of upheaval that is demanding new responses to the way the world is.  When we have to adapt to too much change too fast, we can respond in many different ways.

We can be caught up in denial.  It’s just a conspiracy by big Pharma or government corporations or some ethnic group or another that has developed an elaborate plot to control the world.  Nothing is trustworthy except my opinion and the opinion of my friends who think the same way.  Facts and figures are not real, all that is real is that I alone have the inside knowledge and the smarts to understand what is really going on.  It’s about no one being able to tell me what to do.  And that I don’t need to have a shred of empathy for anyone but myself.  I can interrupt anyone I want, I can talk over anyone I want, I don’t have to listen to anyone and I don’t need to change a single thing that I’m doing because I know I’m right and everyone else is not worthy of respect.

When we put ourselves at the centre of our belief systems, when we decide that we are the only ones who have the right to etch things in stone, we put ourselves ahead of God.  That is dangerous, and we are seeing that in the debates to the south of us.  When we do not have empathy for anyone but our own lives, we can become like the tenants, sure that they can get away with whatever they want, even murder.  When we rebel against community guidelines, we end up destroying community and destroying communication.  We destroy the opportunity to listen and to learn.

The 10 commandments were not perfect.  They were patriarchal and lumped women in with possessions except the part about honoring both mother and father.  They were very simple and straightforward, about not taking what we don’t own, and having empathy for our neighbors.  They were written for a people in chaos who had lost the structure and authority of overseers and didn’t know how to live in community.  In the wilderness there were no police officers, no rules, no expectations, no whips, no jails, no state executions, no structure.  History shows us that when an enslaved country becomes freed of an oppressor, they look for ways to enslave others.  George Orwell’s Animal Farm told that chilling tale, based on what was happening in Russia after the Tsar was deposed.  The Statue of Liberty was inspired because Charles-Louis Napoléon Bonaparte loved being the President of France so much that rather than allowing a peaceful transition of power to a new president, he declared himself as Emperor Napoleon the Third, and turned his back on democracy.  The French rejected that loss of democracy and built a statue to remind them not to lose it again.

God didn’t want the Israelites to become another Egypt.  God wanted a people that would remember their time as slaves and empathise with others who were enslaved.  God wanted people who would be compassionate and not driven by envy or jealousy.  The 10
commandments were God’s attempt to reshape the people into a caring community who would celebrate freedom and love.

We are called today, more than ever, to hear God’s call to be reshaped in a time of great fear, anxiety, resistance, denial and anger.  To remember that we live in a beautiful vineyard and are asked to respect that vineyard, take care of it, and live with respect in creation with our friends and neighbors who also are worthy of freedom and empathy.  Love God and love our neighbors is the call to freedom that God sends each and everyone of us.  Thanks be to God for that freedom, which is truly Good News!

What are you thirsty for?

I got a phone call Wednesday from an organization that works for the United Church and provides support for ministry personnel.  The nice gentleman on the other end of the line asked me how I was doing, and I said ‘a little stressed, wish the Covid would go away.’ He then proceeded to send me four e-mails, one on managing my weight, one on parenting my kids through school, one on stress, and one on a new app that would help me with whatever I was struggling with.

The new app turned out to be a series of links to Ted Talks and breathing exercises.  Nothing I couldn’t have found for myself.  Every celebrity has their YouTube channel and you can listen to advice from psychologists and psychotherapists on topics from how to have better boundaries to how to deal with a bully at work.

There is a lot of information, advice, data, research and study available that we never had before.  There are con artists and false news fearmongers on it as well.  Just like real life, we have always had good leaders and crime bosses in every time, even when Jesus was alive.  The temple authorities have watched Jesus come into town on a donkey, with cheering crowds making a huge fuss over him, then he came into the Temple itself.  The first day he showed up, Jesus disrupted the economic system by having a temper tantrum and throwing furniture around instead of being respectful and humble and awed by the sanctified building he stood in.  So of course, they would go up to him and ask him who he thought he was, and what gave him the right to do what he did?

They were not looking for information, for a diploma, or a certificate.  They were looking for sheepishness, embarrassment, possibly an apology, and preferably a quick departure.  

What they got was not any of what they wanted or said they wanted, instead they got authority.  That must have really shocked them.  Sadly it was not convincing enough for they were ultimately the ones who organized the kangaroo court that led to his state execution.

The people wandering in the wilderness struggled to survive in a new land; they were city slickers living in tents and cooking on open fires instead of cozy homes that they had abandoned to follow a dream. They were not sure what they were thirsty for.  Some wanted a return to old ways, to job security and a roof over their heads, decent food and access to clean drinking water on a regular basis.  To some authority that would tell them what to do and where to be every single day of their lives.  They thirsted for certainty, security and predictability.

Some wanted constant reassurance that they were doing the right thing, sticking it out in the desert, gathering their manna and quail each day, scrounging for wood for their fires, learning how to sew tents, getting used to a new reality where they were on the move every day, keeping a watch on the kids so they stayed away from snakes and scorpions, and taking care of their elders.

Some thirsted for the promised land that they had never seen, and only knew from stories of their great great grandparents, Abraham, Sarah, Jacob, Rachel and Leah, Joseph and his many brothers.  The land of milk and honey, a place of freedom to raise their families without the threat of infanticide and genocide, a place where they could farm or tend herds instead of making clay bricks for the Pharaoh’s pyramids.

Some wanted a new life right away and got angry at Moses for not providing it upon demand.  They wanted to feel strong so that they would never again have to endure the violence of slavery.  They didn’t realize that they were in danger of becoming as violent as their oppressors in their need for order.

And then there were the leaders, Moses, his brother Aaron and his sister Myriam, struggling to lead, feeling attacked and threatened, wondering if they were leading the people in circles, wondering what God was doing and why the people couldn’t simply be happy to be free!

Moses wanted to complain but God wanted him to remember the authority that he had.  The staff was a reminder of all the things Moses had done in front of the Pharaoh to free his people.  It was the tool God used to help Moses understand that he had the power to liberate, to challenge the authoritarian regime in Egypt.  A simple stick such as anyone might use for a walk in the bush or to lean on while looking after herds of sheep.  No fancy carvings, no gold decorations or embedded jewels like the Pharaoh and his ornate shepherd’s crook that would never be practical for working with a stubborn flock.

A simple and useful stick that reminded Moses of who he worked for and how he had been called.  The stick that had somehow been transformed in the presence of the burning bush into a symbol of God’s liberating power.  The stick that reminded him of the authority he had and who he was accountable to!

What are you thirsty for? Who do you give authority to?  Many today are following authoritarians who promise safety and freedom from dangerous foes, falling for stories of danger and conspiracy.  Many listen to the loudest voices and the angriest leaders to find the security they long for.  

We as followers of Jesus are called to follow the voice of love that provides living waters in the midst of the desert of fear, common sense amidst the chaos, the still small voice that we need to hear when we thirst for hope.  The voice of freedom and justice for all, the voice of authority rather than the voice of authoritarianism, the voice of sense and compassion that leads us to a promised land more beautiful than we can possibly imagine.  May we find that voice in our journey through our wilderness time.  Amen.

Trust in Disillusionment

 

Hey, wasn’t it just last Sunday when we had a happily ever after ending for the people of Israel?  Moses had got them through the Sea of Reeds, escaping the dreaded army of Pharaoh, even though the people had complained about Moses bringing them to the brink of the water.  God stepped in and rescued the complainers, helped them cross the sea, and Moses told them that they would never see the lands of Egypt, the place of great sorrow and slavery, ever again.  So what’s with all the belly-aching?  Wouldn’t they know that they were God’s people, that if the army of Pharaoh could be defeated, surely the growling of empty stomachs would be a minor thing for God to deal with? 

But no, they were whining and complaining like nothing had happened before, like they still weren’t sure of God, like they didn’t trust God to help them in a tight place where food was scarce.  They may have been in what mental health experts call the ‘Disillusionment’ phase of disaster reactions. 

People who study disasters, such as traumatologists, yes, that’s a real word, talk about different phases people go through.  When the lockdown first happened, many people put in heroic efforts to help out.  Doctors and nurses rolled up their sleeves; some came out of retirement, volunteers sewed masks and so on.  Then there’s the honeymoon, and the stage of disillusionment before we get to the reconstruction.  It’s complicated by people’s resilience before the event.  There are folks who have been so traumatized by events in their lives that they were already in disillusionment.  They rage about everything from masks to vaccines to government conspiracy theories.  They rant in fabric stores, they grumble in grocery stores, they attack online, spreading rumors and false news.  They quote manifestos that are scarily similar to propaganda first spread by National Socialists in the 1930’s, and are determined to ignore any facts they don’t like.  Scary people, hurting people, distrusting people who have been hurt before by people they trusted.

People like the ones Moses was leading in the desert.  They too had been living in disillusionment for generations, experiencing exploitation and poverty.  They had lost their community knowledge of who they were and how they had been free people, living as farmers and herders.  The cleverness of Abraham, the faith of Jacob, the honesty of Joseph had been forgotten.  Surrounded by massive statues of Osiris, Isis and Anubis among others, they had no patterns of worship, of holy days, of rituals that reminded them of who they had been.  They had lost their heritage, their culture, their pride and their faith.

Not unlike many in our society today.  Folks working two or more jobs to pay the rent in a slum neighborhood.  Others living in mansions.  The gap between the haves and the have nots growing wider every year.  The level of addictions and people caught in violence.  There has been a surge in overdose deaths in Alberta and BC since March.  In July, The First Nations Health Authority in BC reported a 93% increase in overdose deaths amongst first nations, and 728 British Columbians died from drug overdoses. COVID-19 had killed 190 people in the same time period.  Addicts are finding it harder to access help because of Covid and we see this here in Athabasca.  Offices are closed and finding ways to reach to the homeless has been tricky.  We had someone in church on Sunday who was homeless and hungry.  He also was delusional and incoherent, and an innocent soul who was harmless but he has little ability to survive an Athabascan winter on the streets.  We gave him a little snack and a coffee then called for help for him.

We contacted Primary Care Network who have a plan to get him the care he needs.  A good ending that was facilitated by this congregation being a beacon of hope in his time of wilderness wandering.

The people wandering with Moses had to learn to trust God and to trust their leaders.  Their story testified to God who provided not an excessive amount, an extravagant supply, but enough for each day.  Enough to sustain the community while they healed from their abuse in Egypt.  The day’s wages for the workers in the vineyard no matter when they came to work, enough to feed their families. The amount that Jesus taught his disciples to pray for, their daily bread. 

We in the west also don’t trust leadership, especially anything coming out of Toronto.  Which can be wise.  But I have been very inspired by our leaders who are boldly asking the government for manna for all Canadians.  Just as the depression in the 1930’s led to the Conservative Government establishing a national employment insurance program, and returning vets with a host of medical issues helped motivate people to push for Universal Health Care, now our leaders are campaigning for a universal basic income which has all kinds of surprising outcomes, families able to afford healthy foods which leads to less stressful and healthier lives which can reduce hospital stays, addiction and crime rates as people feel more hopeful.  Like the daily wages in Jesus’ parable, and the gift of manna in the wilderness, we can work with our leaders to encourage politicians to provide daily bread.  Our Moderator the Right Reverend Richard Bott wrote,

“Since 1972, The United Church of Canada has advocated for Guaranteed Annual Income as a method of insuring economic security for all in Canada that is more equitable and less expensive and complicated … than the numerous government support programs presently available. Since then, national and international studies and programs have shown that Universal Basic Income is both affordable and has beneficial effects in the areas of health, justice, education, and social welfare...”

You and I have an opportunity to make a difference that will be just as profound as our grandparents and great grandparents who called for universal health care and employment insurance.  We can make a lasting change that will bring Jesus’ call for economic fair play closer to reality, on earth as it is in heaven.  This is our chance to revolutionize Canada in a profound way!  Let us join together to bring manna to all who are in the wilderness of disillusionment.

Looking Back, Moving Forward

“Though you see Egypt today, You will never see it again!”  Moses claimed to the heart-stricken Israelites who looked at him like he had rocks in his head.  They looked at the Sea of reeds in front of them, back to the army that was rapidly approaching, with the latest technology for efficient warfare, the chariots, then back at the children, the grandmothers, the pregnant moms, the sullen teenagers, and back again to Moses.  And all that water.

No wonder they complained to Moses.  They had no experience with wilderness living, and plenty of experience with city dwelling.  They had no experience with freedom, and precious little trust in either Moses or God.  Their previous life had been harsh and demanding, and they had become used to following orders.  It was tough and unfair, but it had its familiar pattern.  Following Moses out into the wilderness on a whim lost its appeal when the sparkle of metal swords glinting in the sun and the great noise of a mighty army was growing closer by the minute.

They knew what to expect back home.  Pharaoh’s soldiers might be bossy and bullying, but they also fed everyone, and there was a roof over their heads every night.  Not to mention beautiful sculptures and art, and full employment for all the able-bodied men on the Pharaoh’s pyramid.  No unions or holidays, but hey, it was stable and predictable.  What would happen next was also predictable, certain genocide.  By any logical standard, they were doomed and they knew it.

What wasn’t predictable was God.  What wasn’t predictable was Moses ordering them into the swamp.  What wasn’t predictable was a dry passage to safety.  What wasn’t predictable was a complete rout of the army.

It would be easy to dismiss this as myth or fairy tale without any sound archeological evidence to back it up, but the story is a profound reminder to trust that even when our senses tell us otherwise, even when we are feeling overwhelmed, even when the odds are against us, we are not to discount that God may be in action in ways we just can’t picture or understand. 

Stories we don’t’ understand like the one I read in Scientific American.  Michael Sherman wrote the story of his wedding day. His bride Jennifer was missing her grandfather who had been like a dad to her because he died when she was 16.  She moved to the United States and shipped boxes of possessions to her new home.  Some arrived broken, like her grandfather’s 1978 transistor radio, which refused to turn on.  Sherman did everything he could to fix that radio, but it refused to work.  The day of the wedding, after they said their vows, they heard music coming from his bedroom.  The grandfather’s radio turned on and played a romantic song.  It played all the rest of the day and stopped working that night.  It hasn’t worked since.  What makes this story odd is not what happened, I’ve heard similar stories in my job, it’s who tells the story.  Michael Sherman is the publisher of Skeptic Magazine, which is devoted to debunking and disproving such stories!

But the real point of today’s scripture is not whether or not the parting of the Red Sea or Reed Sea really happened, but that in the midst of the crisis the Israeli people faced, they did what humans still do today.  They mythologized the past.

They told themselves the lie that the ‘good old days’ were really good, and certainly better than their current moment.  They forgot the depression, the hopelessness, the lack of freedom, the oppression, the brutality and the slavery they had lived in. Their previous life was glamorized and exaggerated.

Maybe Moses hadn’t communicated the possibilities clearly enough.  Maybe he didn’t have a clear enough vision to excite the people.  Maybe he glossed over the challenges that would face them.  Maybe he hadn’t realized that Pharaoh would change his mind again. 

Nevertheless, God didn’t look back.  God knew that these people deserved a better future.  God knew that a contingency plan existed.  And like Jesus reminded his followers centuries later, God was willing again and again, 7 times 70 to forgive the people their lack of faith, and their lack of hope in God.

We are in a similar bind.  The past is now seen as the ‘normal’ we can’t wait to get back to.  Normal times when we have a vaccine, when the pandemic is over.  And yet those ‘good old days’ were ones where our economic system was based on the exploitation of immigrant women working multiple low-paid jobs, where people got shot by police for being non-white, where global warming was still not being seriously considered, where our waters and air were being polluted, and where seniors were being warehoused in conditions that were sometimes as bad as slave quarters in Egypt.  Maybe looking back to those ‘good old days’ are not what we should be doing, but looking to the unpredictable future God is bringing us into.  God may have to terrify us into moving into the swampy lands to get to a world we can’t imagine, where there is housing for all, a guaranteed income, lives that are not lived in a blur of non-stop activity, where global warming is addressed and sustainable energy is a reality.  A future where Hong Kong, Beijing and New Delhi citizens can see the stars every night.  A future where families do not have to live in fear of domestic violence. A future where water is cherished as a gift that everyone protects, and a future where we all work together to ensure that no one feels oppressed.  Maybe it’s time to ask God to help us in a situation that is just as scary as an army of chariots.  To stand back and catch the vision God has for us, so we can move forward in hope to a new and better world.  Our unpredictable God is with us in this time of change and transition!  Halleluiah!