Words spoken in Truth, Love and Wisdom

It’s good to be back from vacation and it’s good to be doing all kinds of things getting ready for the fall.  One of the things I got to do this week is to witness the power of words spoken from the heart, out at Amber Valley yesterday.  I asked a group of people if they would support two young people as they made vows to love and honor and support each other.  The folks that were there to witness these vows almost thundered their response of I Will to the question of “Will you honor the commitments these two young people make today.  It was really touching, the power of these words on the two young people.  Loud words spoken in truth and love and wisdom, but also with pride and deep conviction.

I think that those words were spoken in the true sense of the good news that Jesus and James were trying to share.  Sounds like these two men were on the same page when they thought about what people say out loud.  Which shouldn’t be too surprising since James was Jesus’ younger brother.  How often did they hear angry words? And how often have we too been on the brunt end of angry words or lies or slander and envy? Probably more that we’d like to admit.  But James also asks us to examine our own words and actions, not just dwelling on what we hear others say.

This week I heard others say things ranging from insensitive to angry to downright insulting.  Sometimes it was about someone not in the room, sometimes it was to someone’s face.  Sometimes it was on the news and caused international discussions, sometimes it was right here in Athabasca.  And sometimes it was so subtle that one had to really think about what the person had said before it came home how hurtful the intention was.  Sometimes it tried to hide behind humor, and sometimes it even came out of my own heart and I didn’t realize it until it was out of my mouth.  Whoops!  And Yikes!

Sometimes it was the words that did not get said that hurt, like how for many folks, Pope Francis did not say enough.  Sometimes it was the words said to a person so hurting that they over reacted.  Sometimes it was words that brought up memories of other words that hurt.

No wonder Jesus talked about the heart, the interior emotions causing what he called uncleanliness.  Koino-ew, in Greek, meaning dirty, common, and unholy. He and the religious scholars of the day were all concerned about anything that would separate them from God, but they were divided as to what that separation was caused by. What builds walls between us and God?  The Pharisees thought it was made by what people did or how they did, but Jesus and James thought it was caused by our interior states.  That sometimes we are not 100% logical, and that sometimes our words are clear symptoms of the state of our interior selves.  As one psychologist put it,

“Bad news, friend: you are not a rational person. Turns out most of your opinions and decisions are made up of an unsavory soup of prejudice, first impressions, old hurts, snap judgements, and fantasy, with some actual fact and reasoned thought thrown in for spice. In case it makes you feel better: same here. Same everywhere. We tend to think of humans as highly rational, but it just isn't so. Google "are humans rational?" or "do facts change minds?" Dig one layer down past the fluff pieces and listicles and see what science actually has to say about our minds—not that I expect any of the information there to change yours, if you're like the rest of us.”

That can be a pretty bleak way of looking at ourselves, and it would be easy to give up.  We are full of what Steven Covey called the 5 cancerous ways to talk to others – complain, criticise, compare, compete and contend.  All five of these tend to tear down community, to tear down peoples souls, to destroy hope, to undermine love, and to sabotage faith.  They are addictive and habit-forming and can grow out of control, hurting everyone who hears them.

But James and Jesus both paint a picture of better things.  Of words spoken that can build each other up, that can strengthen communities, that can help our faith grow.

Words like “I do” and “We will” spoken with passion, conviction and hope.  Words spoken out loud where other people will hear and witness what has been said.  Such is the power of the Serenity Prayer, which has been used in many different versions for over 80 years to help folks with wounded hearts.  Folks that some people would label as unclean or unable to change.  Simple words that have helped people look into that mirror and truly see themselves for whom they are.  Flawed humans struggling to deal with the cards life has handed them, and who humbly and gently rebuild themselves with words from the inside out. 

God Grant me the Serenity to accept the things I can change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.

When I get down and discouraged from hearing complaining and criticizing words, or thinking that I can’t change the world I live in, I am going to do my best to remember yesterday.  Because that noisy crowd of folks wearing plaid shirts, cowboy hats and john deer baseball caps, with hip flasks, cowboy boots and running shoes, looking like the reddest of red neck Albertans, whooped and hollered and cheered and vowed to support the two lovely brides as they exchanged kisses in front of all their guests.  What a gift to that young couple that said I do, that their families and friends supported them regardless of their gender.  So when I think or we think that what we do or say in this country, this province and this town doesn’t matter, know that Jesus and James would be proud of how our witness to love is building a safer world for all kinds of people that were once thought as unclean.  God wants us to live in hope and love and truth, not anger or fear, and when our hearts are centered in hope, love, truth and wisdom, it is contagious, we do make a difference in this world.

Remembering our story

Isaiah 40:21-31, Mark 1:29-39

I was thinking how cynical we have become in this world.  Between news stories and family drama, political speeches and outrageous tweets, the levels of cynicism are depressingly high.  It is a vicious trap that many people are caught up in, and I hear it often in the lives of people around me who have given up in despair because they can’t see a way out.

But there is a strong message that was intended for people in that situation.

Have you not known? Have you not heard? Has it not been told you from the beginning?

These urgent questions are passionately spoken to an audience who has forgotten their story.  And our gospel today also has a feel of urgency.  Today’s translation starts with ‘as soon as they left the synagogue’, but a better translation is ‘immediately they left’, and that word is used repetitively throughout the first chapter of Mark.  Immediately they left the synagogue, where he had just cast out a demon (who had immediately left the interrupting man, by the way), he goes to a house where he then quickly heals a sick woman and she immediately gets up and becomes the first deacon of this new church. And right after that the house is surrounded with folks wanting to be cured of all their problems.  That’s a hectic schedule for one day’s work, and we haven’t even finished Chapter One!

One common thread in these readings is the number of lost and hurting people who do not know who they are and who created them.

Isaiah is writing to exiled Jews in slavery in Babylon to remind them of who they are. 

Come on, he seems to be saying, you don’t remember that your family ancestors were enslaved once before in Egypt? God was with our ancestors back then and God is with us right now here in Babylon.  Remember who God is, so that you can turn to God when we are living through tough times.  But you have forgotten your stories of who God is.

I think Isaiah realized that when we forget our stories, we lose a piece of hope for the future and we get bogged down in soul-crushing demons.

Demons such as depression, anxiety, narcissism and addiction.  Demons who live off cynicism, resentment, apathy, racism, entitlement and pity parties.  Demons that want us to believe we are slaves with no hope of rescue. No wonder people flocked to Jesus to be cured of all that.  No wonder Jesus needed to get away from it all and wander off into the desert.

Can you picture it, a starry black night with the Milky Way painted overhead like a tiara of diamonds too numerous to count?  The flashing streak of a meteor or two.  The deep stillness with maybe a wolf howling in the far distance, and crickets and frogs the only other sound.  The stillness that filled his soul as he waited, remembering the words of Isaiah ‘those who wait for God shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.”

Contrast that with Simon, filled with excitement who wants to have Jesus in his house first.  He wants Jesus to fix his mother in law, his neighbors, his relatives and even his whole town.  Does he want to be able to say, “look at how significant I am, I brought Jesus to you all, and if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be fixed.”  Jesus has a bigger vision.  He’s not willing to become the neighborhood guru setting up a shop of miracles and healing potions.  His vision is bigger than just one family, one town.

Have you not known? Have you not heard? Do you not remember the story? Often we don’t remember, we don’t know who we are.  Simon doesn’t know he is Peter yet, the rock on whom the new church will be built.  The slaves in Babylon don’t know they will return, rebuild their culture and renew their faith in ways that will endure for centuries.  They don’t know that their story will survive kings, wars, and genocides, or provide hope to many who follow after.  We too lose track of who God is calling us to be.  But ours is a powerful, transforming story.

If you think about it, this story speaks to each generation in surprising new ways that outlast many stories.  My grandmother was a Fraser, but I never had a haggis until I was 18.  I never went to a Robbie Burns dinner until I was in my late forties.  My grandmother did not pass on that part of her story, because her family had been in Canada for four generations and intermingled with a lot of other ethnic groups along the way.  They lost the story of their culture and customs, they lost their scots accents, but they kept their faith in God and in the church community, their new clan and culture.  That gave them faith to weather the storms of world wars, revolutions, economic depressions and personal tragedies.  It gave my grandmother a passionate commitment to the Women’s Vote as well as the temperance movement that strived to free people from the slavery of abusive relationships, family violence and addictions.  It helped her have the courage and strength to cope with her British husband’s loss of sight and career.  Her faith story is one that inspires and encourages me to this day.

Life can be a chaotic series of challenging circumstances.  We may feel like a pebble tossed into Niagra Falls, wondering if we’ll ever surface again.  When life is like that, we need to remember our stories of Jesus, Isaiah, and the exiles in Babylon, to do as they did and remember the stories of God’s love so that God may renew our strength once again.  May it be so for us all!

Star words to steer by

Mark 1:10-11 In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan.  And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him.  And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

The biggest lie that I was ever told was given to me when I was a child by both parents and teachers.  It went like this: "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me".  Try as I might, I could never find a way not to let words hurt, especially those I heard on the playground, words like ‘four eyes, sucker up to bat, or train-track mouth’.  Back in the 60’s and 70’s, no one seemed to think much about bullying except that it was a fact of life and you either got tough or earned the even worse label ‘crybaby’.

Words never hurting was the idea that it wasn’t what others thought of us that counted, but what we thought of ourselves that mattered.  True enough.  But sensitive children don’t know how to distance themselves from the painful words that others throw at them.  In Grade 7 and Grade 10, bullying was so much a part of the culture that it had a whole week dedicated to it, called Initiation Week.  This was supposedly a time of light-hearted high jinks where the oldest kids in the school had the right to treat the younger ones any way they wanted.  I got to clean out a locker, lucky me, but other kids had their hair washed with shaving cream or were told to swallow raw eggs or dress in drag.  Even the teachers had a form of initiation as it was always the unaware first year teachers who got assigned lunchroom duty that week.

Luckily, that has disappeared from the school system for many years, but it still shows the power of words.  There’s a huge difference between labelling something ‘initiation week’ versus ‘institutionalized hazing’.  Words do matter.  We now know that many children struggle with depression and suicidal thoughts even as young as 6 or 7.  Often it is because of the words that are used on them. 

“You are so slow, why are you so stupid”, and my personal challenge, “you’re not good enough.”  These kinds of words haunt us long after we can remember who first said them to us or why.

That’s one of the reasons why the Hebrew scriptures and the Christian writings are so dear.  They recognize the importance of words, so much that our bible starts with God speaking, “let there be light” – the idea that words can be so powerful when spoken by the right person that great things like light and life can be created from chaos.

Mark’s gospel starts with such a great creation.  No Bethlehem, shepherds or wise magi here.  Two men meeting in the wilderness in a profoundly personal initiation ritual.  Not hazing, but a simple and symbolic act of drowning in the Jordan River, the historical boundary for the Hebrew people between the wilderness of Moses and the promised land of King David.  A moment of connection between two men recognizing the importance of God in their lives and their common bond of connection to the Mission of God.  John the Baptizer meets Jesus the Messiah in an encounter so profound that it will change the course of history forever.

And when John and Jesus meet in that ritual, something amazing happens.  God tears the sky apart and Jesus hears “This is my beloved Son with whom I am well pleased.”  It is one of the few events that is written about in all four of our Gospels, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.  It is right up there with the overturning of the Temple, the Crucifixion, and the Easter resurrection.  It was words that the disciples thought worth repeating, and core to the teachings Jesus handed down to his disciples.  God loves us.

That’s bigger than we might think, and certainly something that Christians might take too much for granted. 

The concept of God for most people was something to be afraid of, that would judge and punish and condemn.  Even now I hear that when people say, “oh, I could never come to church, if I did, I would burst into flames,” and they are only half joking.

That’s not the God we see here, and not the God that Jesus and John saw when they read scripture.  God choses special messengers to comfort the poor and help the children of the needy, as it said in our psalm today.  That’s a loving God, not a punishing one.  Yet all too often we still act and think like God is a punisher who speaks angry words to condemn us.

If we believe that God is a bully only interested in punishing us, we will give up on our lives, ourselves and the people around us.  We will justify acting like a bully because we’re just being like God.  And we will struggle with the words that we speak about ourselves deep in our private hearts.  We can be our own worst bullies.

The Globe and Mail this year published a series of articles about mental health and the tremendous toll this puts on Canadians.  One of the things they wrote about was mental health hygiene.  We are great at brushing our teeth and washing our hands, but lousy at cleaning our minds of negative words.

As Christians, we are called on by our scriptures to practise mental hygiene by remembering the generous and loving acts of our God that led us out of slavery into freedom, into relationship with the loving Divine.  Just as Jesus heard the sky tear, this good news should turn our lives upside down.  When we put star words, God’s words, at the center of our minds, we join in that joyful community of saints that know the profound good news, that we are beloved children of God.  May it be so for us all!