Jeremiah 1:4–10 The call of Jeremiah: “But I’m only a boy!”, Luke 13:10–17 Jesus heals the
bent-over woman.Can
you imagine over 300 people crammed into a space a bit larger than a gymnasium
for 5 days, some of which went from 9 am to 9 pm, to talk about all kinds of
contentious and complex issues, and which managed to stay respectful and
peaceful despite many differences? That
was what happened a couple of weeks ago in Calgary, Alberta. The topics ranged from unionizing clergy to
developing a statement on Palestine.
They heard from international observers, including citizens of Gaza and
citizens of Israel. They heard multiple
languages, from multiple ethnic groups.
They listened to elders and to youth delegates, environmentalists and
social justice activists. They talked in
small groups and also to the whole council.
They heard from people who predicted that by 2035 there would be only
100 churches left across Canada and people whose churches were thriving and
growing and filled with contagious hope.
It
could have been five days of conflict, bickering and rants. There were people who came with anger in
their hearts, and there were people who came with agendas. There were people who came sure that they
knew what was right for everyone, and they were determined to make sure that it
was the most important part of the agenda.
It could have been all these, and yet, for the most part, it wasn’t. There was a lot of consensus built and a lot
of respect cultivated. Halleluia!
Worship
was a big part of the consensus and respect.
Prayers, scripture and hymns were given in many languages with
translations instantly available.
English alternated with French, scripture was read in Blackfoot, Korean,
Tagalog from the Philippines, Japanese, Chinese, Spanish, Swahili and
more. When the Lord’s Prayer was said
together, people were invited to speak it in the language that most spoke to
their hearts, and it was heard in a multitude of tongues.
Worship
was first thing in the morning, and the last thing at night. It deliberately focused on what God was
calling the church to do. It was intentional, brave, bold and daring.
Worship
is at the core of what Jesus was about in today’s scripture. He, like Jeremiah was called to speak
challenging words to the people of God.
He, like Jeremiah, was called to speak healing words too. Did he know, when he he chose to heal the
bent over woman in the temple, that he would stir controversy? Did he do it during the offering hymn? Or the
Prayers of the People? Or in the middle of the sermon? We don’t know. We do know, for the scripture tells us this,
that there was an immediate and loud backlash.
Worship wars had begun.
What
is worship for? Why do we worship? How do we worship? Is worship like a restaurant menu where we
should only get to enjoy the part of worship we like? Or is it more like a potluck where hopefully
there’s something for everyone to enjoy?
Jesus was clear what worship was for.
It was for honoring God and helping people connect to God’s healing
love. It wasn’t about standards of
propriety or keeping prim and proper. It
was about setting people free from the pain and oppression they were
experiencing.
That
challenged the people in charge of making sure the rules were followed. Rules of what a meaningful worship was. Now, we have no idea what worship was like,
that was 2000 years ago, and if you think of how much our world has changed in
those 2000 years, our ways of eating and cooking, for instance, well, there’s
probably just as much change in worship.
Worship, ever evolving, ever the same, is a gift of space and time to
reflect together and learn together, to practice loving God, loving ourselves,
loving our neighbors. Practice, not
rules and laws, love, not certainty.
Jeremiah
preached from uncertainty. He didn’t
know if he was old enough, mature enough, wise enough, and brave enough. God told him to preach anyway, to speak truth
to power in love. Jesus preached anyway
too, about healing and love. He had the
bravery to stand up to negative, controlling, critical and judgmental voices. The religious leaders expected conformity and
compliance. They spoke out of anger and
resentment and who knows, maybe even jealousy of Jesus who had the power and
the compassion to reach out to a woman who could not stand straight in her
place of worship.
Today,
we are asked to speak out even in our uncertainty, to ask for healing and
compassion. Someone wrote this week, “We
are watching a kind of moral erosion unfold in real time. What’s even more
disturbing is how numb we’ve become to it. The lies no longer shock us. The
cruelty no longer surprises us. The exploitation of people and planet is so
normalized that we scroll past it. What allows these leaders to get away with
so much is not just the concentration of power—it’s the slow collapse of our
collective moral imagination. It’s the voice in each of us that whispers, “It’s
just how the world works now.” And so we stop expecting better. We stop holding
lines. We start cutting corners.
To
which I would add, we stop speaking up in love, we stop working for compassion,
we stop listening to the pain of the bent over woman and we stop asking how we
can help with the healing.
That’s
why integrity matters more now than ever, not as a rigid moral code, but as a
living commitment. At General Council,
people, inspired by worship, energized by prayer and scripture and song,
practiced listening to all voices with respect.
That’s not easy, it takes practice to hear everyone, especially the
quiet voices. Now more than ever, we
need the quiet voices to speak against the angry voices in love. To hear Jeremiah’s reluctance to get involved
but know like Jeremiah, the quiet voices are called to share good news of healing,
second chances, of being able to straighten up and stand tall. We can do that at the food banks, the soup
kitchens, the picket lines and the election polls. We can do that by signing petitions and
writing politicians. We are all called
to make our quiet voices heard in deep, bold, daring ways that love and serve
God who is our strength and our redeemer, the holy one who helps us stand
straight and tall in love and hope and joy.
May it be so for us all, Amen.
