Who Are You?

A trailer for a movie that is currently in the theatre starts with the question, “who are you?” and it begs other questions like, “where did you come from, why are you here, and where will you go from here?”

All good storytelling begins with those kinds of questions and every author or writer, if they want to really connect with their audience, needs to wrestle with those questions.  Every teenager wishing to be an adult, every person struggling with addiction, everyone filling out forms for employment insurance, everyone facing life after losing a significant life companion, everyone facing a job transition have to revisit these questions again and again.

Who are you? Where did you come from? Why are you here? Where will you go from here?  It is the human quest and it is the hero’s quest.  We all want to be heros, and these questions remind us of the fact that we are not as heroic as we wish, but we are all human.

The gospel writers were human too, and telling the story of where they found answers for their questions.  Whether they saw themselves as heroic or as human, they clearly found the answers in Jesus of Nazareth, to the point that they all saw him as Jesus the Messiah, the Christ.

The Christmas stories point to who they saw Jesus.  Matthew saw Jesus as the new Moses, planning to lead his people Israel to a new promised land despite terrible hardship.  Matthew included Moses-like incidents, the transfiguration on the mountaintop where Jesus talked to God, the wilderness wandering, the massacre of infant boys, royalty that recognizes the child, a stepfather confused with the identity of his son, and the refugee journey into Egypt, land of Joseph and Moses.

Luke saw Jesus as the new Adam, connecting all humanity, Jews and Gentiles alike, yet rooted and grounded in his Jewish heritage.  So we have shepherds, people that practised their trade around the world but seen as outsiders, we have prophets and prophetesses in the temple, we have infants in wombs leaping in joyful recognition of their master approaching, and a woman who ponders things deep in her heart.  We have a census to show his family struggling with Roman oppression, like many people in the ancient world.

Mark started his gospel off not with Bethlehem or angels or wise men or parents or stars.  He started it off with a man emerging from the Jordan River after being baptised by a well-known preacher.  And from that humble beginning, with feet planted firmly in the mud beside the Jordan River, Mark shows us a man with healing and teaching skills that bewilder and encourage the people around him.

John also neglects Christmas nativity and Bethlehem beginnings.  John doesn’t care about placing Jesus into a family context.  John, the last of the Gospel writers to put pen to ink, goes all the way back to Genesis.  “In the beginning was the Word”, he said, and the Genesis editors started with “in the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.  Then God said, “Let there be light” and there was light.

John equates Jesus with the very start of creation, the ‘once upon a time’ of the story.  John is metaphorical, striving to figure out just who this character is.  Jesus is the Word, the light of the world, the bread from heaven, the Lamb of God, the living water, the good shepherd, and the resurrection and the life.  John piles metaphor upon metaphor in a desperate attempt to really communicate who this person is to us his listeners.

Personally, I find John to be a little too poetical and heavy handed.  Enough, already, I hear you, and it’s overwhelming.  And sometimes I find his metaphors being used in ways that can be cruel and judgemental.  “I am the Way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me”, he has Jesus say, and many contemporary Christians use that phrase to condemn their neighbors for not being holy enough or religious enough or faithful enough and so we have people who would rather be atheists than come to church and be treated as shameful lesser beings because they can’t be as poetical as John in their hearts.

But it’s good to be reminded every so often to re-examine that basic question.  Who are you Jesus? Where did you come from? Where are you pointing us to next?

Jesus came out of a tradition of prophets like Jeremiah who wanted us to take care of the most vulnerable even in the midst of personal tragedy.  Jeremiah, who wrote to a defeated and traumatized rag-tag group of exiles and refugees who were forced to march into slavery.  Even in those dark times, in the midst of that suffering, Jeremiah said, remember who you are and whose you are.  Remember not to be afraid to sing for joy in the midst of your despair, and take care of laboring women while you are slaves.  Don’t afraid to be dignified followers of your God who will sustain you.  Don’t be afraid to search for meaning during your worst sufferings.

Jesus knew his Jeremiah.  He knew that challenging the system was his purpose, to challenge a culture of indifference, cruelty and egotistical survival where no one mattered except oneself.  He knew that it would not be easy, and he knew that his chances of survival were bleak.  Prophets get stoned, get ridiculed, get executed.  But his word would not be silenced, his message would not be lost.

C. S. Lewis once wrote that we still struggle with who Jesus is.  Either he is a madman, at the level of someone who says he is a scrambled egg, or he is something more.  Whether we believe that more is on the level of a prophet, a Moses, an Adam or a God, we can all learn to stretch our story by following in the footsteps of the man from Galilee.  May it be so for us all.

John’s Opportunity for You

I was listening to car horns honking yesterday.  There were a whole lot of them, and I figured that meant that there was a wedding going on, and sure enough, I watched out the window and caught a glimpse of a car covered with pompoms driving down the hill and honking merrily as it went.

That’s not a custom I’m used to hearing in December, probably because I tend to think that it’s just too cold to have much fun getting married with snow on the ground.  Yet I have family members who did just that, and I bet that their horns honked merrily too.

Can you imagine if your life right now amidst all the bustle and hustle of Christmas preparations would have you so filled with joy that you just had to honk your horn?  Imagine driving all the way back from Edmonton or Westlock or Fort MacMurray honking as you went to celebrate getting that last Christmas present or jumping into your car to drive around the block to let your neighbors know that the Christmas Cake was done, or the tree was trimmed.  No?

All too often we live timid lives that are afraid to let go, bust loose, shake a bell, bang on a pot or pan.  And I can’t say that John’s speech to his people is one that I would feel happy to hear.  I can just imagine the complaint if I stood here, shook my finger and called you a bunch of dirty rattlesnakes. Somehow, I can’t imagine it going down well.  Good thing it’s not my style!

John pulled no punches and yet his teaching was described as ‘good news’.  Go figure!  I think it was because he recognized that everyone had a feeling that something was not quite right with their lives.  That they were living with secret shames or guilts or burdens that weighed them down.  They knew that they were not living honest healthy lives, they had difficult relationships with others, and that they were caught up in the fear that they would go hungry if they didn’t hoard what they could at every opportunity.

John told them that there was no need to fear.  There was only the need to reconnect with God.  The sense of shame or brokenness was what they saw as sin, a word we find challenging in today’s society of positive thinking.  Yet hear what our Song of Faith says around sin:

Made in the image of God,

we yearn for the fulfillment that is life in God.

Yet we choose to turn away from God.

We surrender ourselves to sin,

    a disposition revealed in selfishness, cowardice, or apathy.

Becoming bound and complacent

    in a web of false desires and wrong choices,

    we bring harm to ourselves and others.

This brokenness in human life and community

    is an outcome of sin.

 

Yet evil does not—cannot—

    undermine or overcome the love of God.

We are all imperfect humans.  The good news as John saw it, was that there was an opportunity for us all to reconnect with God, to let go of our guilt and shame, and come into a dance with our creator.  The good news is that John saw it as an easy situation to remedy, and something that everyone could do.  Everyone, not just the religious people who know all the right answers and have memorized a bible verse for every occasion, or the people who are always doing great things for the world, like Mother Theresa or Ghandi.  The average people.  The people that no one expected.  The greedy misers who were accumulating stuff.  The hated collaborators who were seen as despicable traitors to their own people, and even the soldiers who were not part of the community, but part of the system that was oppressing people in daily annoyances and bullying.  The outsiders, the poor, the ones who had given up hope that they could ever measure up. 

The solution was simple:  Share what extra you have, even when it may seem insignificant.  Even if you only have two coats, that is something to rejoice about, and something you can be generous with.  Share that you need extra if you don’t have any coat at all.  If you don’t tell someone you need a coat, how will they know who to share that coat with?  Sharing who you are, what you need and what you have extra of.  Simple.  Don’t share if you don’t have abundance.  The person with one coat is not told to give it away.

Care.  Care about what your neighbor is going through.  Listen to their challenges, and don’t shame them for not having the ‘right’ faith or the ‘right’ solution to their problems.  Give them a prayer shawl, perhaps, or at least pray for them, but shovel their walks and bring them soup if that’s a need.  Be the shoulder they can cry on without judgement or advice.

Last but not least, be fair.  Don’t cheat your neighbor, your friend, or your community.  This seems easy at first but what about those of us who cheat on our income tax, for example, or the speed limit?  Maybe we aren’t all employees at Money Mart, but it could very well be that some of those extra rolls of tape follow us home from the office on a regular basis.  Or if someone undercharges us for groceries, we pocket the extra and sneer at the person who miscalculated.

Rejoice and be glad, for it is a very simple thing to let go of our shame and recognize God loves us even with our flaws.  That is certainly news worth honking our horns for!

How to Pet A Porcupine

Phillipians 1: 3-11 I thank my God every time I remember you, constantly praying with joy in every one of my prayers for all of you, because of your sharing in the gospel from the first day until now. I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ.

It is right for me to think this way about all of you, because you hold me in your heart, for all of you share in God's grace with me, both in my imprisonment and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel. For God is my witness, how I long for all of you with the compassion of Christ Jesus.

And this is my prayer, that your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight to help you to determine what is best, so that in the day of Christ you may be pure and blameless, having produced the harvest of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God.

One of my friends posted a video on Facebook the other day that I found just fascinating.  It was a woman petting a porcupine.  A real live porcupine, the prickly kind that we usually see as road kill in the spring and that if we do happen to meet up with them on a hike, we will back away from slowly and carefully.  The kind of animal that if your dog ever met, you would end up taking a trip to the vet to get a muzzle full of quills removed from your poor pooch.

I thought about porcupines being all prickly, and how they are a good animal to reflect on for Peace Sunday.  Truth be told, I bet on any one given day, people will meet up with someone who will make them feel like they’ve been hit with a facefull of quills.  A neighbor, a friend, a co-worker, who throws out barbed comments, or takes a swack at you emotionally, or takes the simplest comment and see it as an attack.  They are prickly.  And we wish we could avoid them or de-barb them or do something, anything, to keep them from hurting us.

Such is the stuff of warfare.  Whenever we take another human being and assume that we know they are less than us, less friendly, less righteous, less blameless or pure than us, whenever we label them as a porcupine or a terrorist or a, well, you fill in the blank, somehow that dehumanizes them enough that it is okay to discriminate against them.  “He’s a bully, she’s a communist, that’s a porcupine” and we use the label to determine how we will treat them.  Take the Syrians in France and Lebanon and Greece and Turkey.  Are they refugees or are they terrorists?  The political pundits are busy trying to convince us to label human beings that will help determine our policies, our politics and our personal reactions to the newcomers who will be coming to Athabasca.

I know what it’s like to be labelled.  In 1981, I went to the University of Alberta to learn how to become an engineer.  While I was there, people would react in several different ways to my course of study.  Sometimes they would assume that I was a butch tomboy, someone that Robin Williams in “Good Morning Vietnam” referred to as ‘women in comfortable shoes’.  Sometimes they would assume that I was just looking for my ‘MRS’ degree, only there to catch a husband.  But generally when people found out that I was in that faculty, they talked to me like I actually had intelligence, and really saw me for a human being and not just a cute young female.  Although people scoff that I had experienced such labelling, it was only eight years later that a man walked into a Canadian school for engineers, separated the men from the women, and executed 14 women for their audacity.  The label he applied to all the women he found was ‘feminist’, and he used that label to scapegoat and kill them.

The latest shooting in the states is only one of many.  According to one newspaper, there have been over 12 thousand deaths in 2015 in the US to date due to gun violence, 309 were from mass shootings like the one this week. 2 ½%.  In 2012, the most recent report on gun violence, Stats Can reported that our rate of gun murders was 7 times lower than that of Americans and had been steadily dropping over all since 1972. 

When we label others, it gives us permission to think that they are less than human.  Oh, those violent Americans who can’t control their guns.  Oh those terrorists or those mentally ill people or whatever label we use.  Those who we don’t like, those bullies, those immigrants, those other people that look or sound or smell different than us. Oh those porcupines

This is not the way to peace.  Labels and blaming don’t work.  Martin Luther King, Jr., a champion for Christian non-violence, wrote,

The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral, begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy.

Instead of diminishing evil, it multiplies it. Through violence you may murder the liar, but you cannot murder the lie, nor establish the truth. Through violence you may murder the hater, but you do not murder hate. In fact, violence merely increases hate. So it goes. Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.

Paul met the Philippians with love.  He remembered them with love.  He encouraged them with love, and he hoped they would do the same with the people they met.  They were different than him, but that didn’t stop him sharing the good news that there is an alternative to the cycle of violence.  “It is right for me to think of you in this way, because you reflect back the love to me.” If you get a chance to see the video of someone petting the porcupine, you will see that they do it with love.  Protection, so they won’t get the point the hard way, but love.  Even porcupines can respond to love.  The reality is that we all have moments when we are anything but pure and blameless, without offence.  We are all porcupines.

I’ll never forget the day that a young man said to me, “did you know that once a month, we have a fight and it coincides with your hormonal cycle?” I instantly transformed into a vicious porcupine, spewing angry denials. It takes a lot of patience and honesty to learn to function without spewing blame as fast as porcupines spread quills when feeling scared or angry.  And interestingly, the word Paul uses for ‘blameless’ can be translated as ‘without bumps’.  Without quills, perhaps.  And what if we rethought blameless to not be the picture of innocence and perfection but instead thought of it as someone who chooses not to blame others.  How do you pet a porcupine? By treating them with love, by being trustworthy and patient, and by being well-protected with thick leather clothing just in case.  When we do that, porcupines tend to react to being petted like this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U5I5H7EeC8k

 

Don’t take their barbs personally, remember that some porcupines need professional handling, and be honest with yourself when you are feeling prickly to remember that none of us will be perfect, at least not until the Day of Christ comes and will make all blameless.  Thanks be to God that the Day of Christ will be a day of great love, and that Christ will love us regardless of how much like a porcupine we might be.  Then we too will dance like a happy, petted and loved porcupine!

Hope? What is that?

"Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near." Luke 21:28

Rather odd words for the start of our Christian new year.  Disaster, the second coming of Christ, signs and portents in the sky, doomsday is coming.  Hardly the way to get things going unless you want to start things off with a bang.  People are fainting with fear and foreboding, according to one translation, which does not sound like a comforting thought. And this is how we start looking for a baby in a manger who has been given as a present to us as hope for the future of all the world? Yikes!  I’d rather go watch the Eskimos!

This doomsday scenario is a reminder to us all that terrible times do happen to everyone, and that finding hope in the middle of such dreadful situations is hard. And what is hope anyway?

I think that in some people’s minds hope stands for happy optimistic positive energy, and that if only we think the right thoughts and eat the right foods and live the right lifestyle, we will have a wonderful life untouched by trauma of any kind.  They can be very annoying when you complain of your latest crisis, because they will lecture you that you need positive thoughts, and that if you would change your thinking, all your problems will be solved.  There are others who think that hope is a fool’s game, and that it means hedonistically outrageous primitive emotions, and that there is no such thing as hope for life is a terrible game of winner takes it all, and the looser is an insignificant individual to be stepped on because they did not have the strength of character to risk everything to come out on top.  There is only success, the one thing to which all may be risked and gambled.  No cost is too great, no sacrifice too small to pay for success.  In money we trust, and Heaven help the fool that disbelieves that.  It is a dog eat dog world, survival of the fittest and hope is something that is a waste of time and money.

Others think that hope is having oodles of possessions for eternity.  Christmas is a glimpse of hope for them when they will finally have enough stuff or enough money or enough house or enough car or whatever it is that they think will mean that they have enough for security.  According to a Reader’s Digest article, 70% of lottery winners lose or spend all their money within 5 years, and some even end up bankrupt afterwards.  One lady from England who won a large amount at the age of 16 blew her money on plastic surgery and drugs, became suicidal and ended up living with her parents again working as a maid.  As the Beatles said long ago, “Can’t buy me love.” To which Jesus might say, can’t buy me security, safety and happiness either.

So many different schemes for hope seem to be, well, fluffy and hopeless.  We look at life and ask, “is that all there is?”  We might as well do the ‘eat drink and be merry for tomorrow will be a disaster, and medicate ourselves into numbness.  Many do just that.  As Jesus said, “Be on guard so that your spirits do not get bloated with indulgence and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day does not catch you unexpectedly, like a trap. For it will come upon all who live on the face of the whole earth.”

And we think of hope primarily as an emotion that will come and give us an adrenalin boost, which will help us maintain the lie that everything is going to be fine.  Sometimes the reality is that life is really tough, and it’s hard to stay happy and positive.  But hope is not a feeling.  I think it’s a commitment to action.  Big ideas.  Big goals, big dreams.  It can be taught and it can be contagious.

Winston Churchill made a speech to the British people on the brink of war that inspired them with contagious hope.  He finished it by saying, “If at last the story is to end, it were better it should end, not through surrender, but only when we are rolling senseless on the ground.”

He didn’t talk of victory in that speech, but he did remind them of their story, the importance of their way of life, and the need to protect it at all cost.

We Christians have a long story too.  I remember reading somewhere that the first refugee camp was started by Augustine of Hippo.  Rome had been sacked three times by Visigoths who took slaves and gold from the city and destroyed what they wanted.  The church of St. Peter and Paul became a sanctuary for many people, and was respected by the invaders.  The Romans turned away from Christianity, accusing the Christians of corrupting the Empire with their faith, and called on fellow citizens to repent and follow the old Gods, Jupiter, Mars, Juno and Minerva.  Christians left Rome in droves and fled to Hippo in Africa where Augustine took them in and began writing his massive book, the City of God, as a way of finding hope for Christian people.

Even in our times, we can find signs of hope when people turn misfortunes into the courage to make a difference for many.  I was struck with the interview this week on CBC with the Kurdi family, some of whom will be coming to Canada soon.  They are doing their best to rebuild after their losses. Abdullah, the father who lost his family, talked about building a school and hospital in their memory.  We, by allowing them in, are choosing to give them something to hope for, a safer life.

In some ways Hope is like feeding 250 people spaghetti like we did on Friday.  It’s messy, and it takes time, energy and co-operation.  It can be taught, and it can be nourishing.  It focuses on the people it is serving.  It needs many people with many different gifts working as they can however they can. It remembers to feed its own people and flourishes with encouragement. In the end, Hope is a commitment to a story that will make the world a better place. Hope sees that Jesus may be just around the corner in ways we don’t expect.

 Hope is the action of “standing up and raising our heads” as Jesus taught, and as Paul and Augustine did.  Hope is providing love to all humans as Paul hoped we would, practising radical hospitality.  And Hope is an action, maybe it can be “Hear and Obey the Priority of Equality.”

A Rant about Christians

There’s a song that was on the radio last week and it has some lyrics that go “shot through the heart and you’re to blame, you give love a bad name.”  That got me to thinking about all the media we have been inundated with about Paris and those terrible Syrian refugees that the government has been threatening to inundate us with.  And some of the rhetoric in the States has been truly horrific.  Some people, claiming to be Christian, have said that we should only allow Christian Syrians into North America, others have said that every Syrian is dangerous and a terrorist.  Wow.  They conveniently forget that the Paris terrorists only had one Syrian passport in the bunch found in the raid, and that Syrians are getting robbed for their passports and Isis doesn’t like Syrians leaving in the first place as it wants to act like a country and have people make more babies for its caliphate.  No, refugees like the little three year old who drowned, were running away from terrorists, not trying to be terrorists.  Alayn Kurdi, that sad little boy, had no home left.  If you see photos of his home town, there are many houses without roofs and the streets are rubble.  Sad how one day we are clamoring to our government to let his people come to Canada, and the next we are clamoring to keep them out.  But it’s bigger than that.  I am tired of American Christians who talk about judging and criticising all kinds of people, the negativity that they express and especially the close-mindedness they depict to the public.  Build walls around Mexico, criticise anyone who doesn’t look like us, talk like us or believe like us.  Enough already.  Jesus said that our first commandment is to Love God.  And the second commandment is to love our neighbor as ourselves.  The second commandment is not to judge our neighbor or criticise our neighbor or convert our neighbor or tell them that they are full of the devil or are not good enough to get into heaven or any of that.  No!  Jesus said love your neighbor.  Your neighbor next door who maybe plays the radio or tv too loud first thing in the morning or last thing at night, who cheats at cards or takes the last cookie at supper.  Your neighbor who pops her knuckles loudly at the dinner table or thinks it’s funny to play tricks on people or fiddle with their dentures or gossips behind our backs.  You see, I don’t think being a Christian is easy, Jesus never said it would be.  And being a Christian isn’t about being nice either, and letting people walk all over you.  Sometimes we have to speak up and say that God doesn’t want three year olds drowning in the sea because their houses are destroyed.  But being Christian is seeing beyond black and white situations, “I’m good and my neighbor is bad” or even black white yellow and red like the old hymn we used to sing about Jesus loving all the children of the world.  But instead Jesus calls us to be loving towards our neighbors, especially when we are afraid of them.  Our Christian beliefs must be shaped by the remembrance that Jesus lived and died in the Middle East, and was living in a country full of violence and on the verge of civil war.  Even then, he called his people to love, and we are still called to love.  That should be the hallmark of who we are as followers of Christ.  Love of God, love of neighbor.  It's time to remember to sing "They'll know we are Christians by our Love" and then to go do it.  Love God, Love your neighbor, love yourself.  The rest is commentary.  May it be so for us all.

Skating on Thin Ice

Mark 13:5 Jesus began to say to them, "Beware that no one leads you astray."

 

I’ve been thinking a lot about hockey recently, and now that the Oilers have won a few games it reminds me of the days of Messier, Gretzky, and the rest.  The glory days when the Oilers were unstoppable.  Did you know that Gretzky retired at the age of 38 after 20 years as a pro?  Did you know that the average NHL hockey player is 28 years old?  Over half of NHL players play less than 100 games, and 5% only ever play one game.  There are about 5600 players in the NHL, and most of them play for 5 years.  So a kid who turns pro at 18 will likely be out of a job by the time they are 23.  And the chance of a kid in Athabasca bringing home the Stanley Cup is about the same chance as his parent winning the lottery.  It makes me wonder what we are doing to our children.  This came home to me when I heard a sports reporter talking about Connor McDavid’s shoulder injury.  He said “you’ll never see him play with the same abandon and passion again.  It happens every time a new NHL player gets an injury.  He’ll always be looking over his shoulder for the next hit.”

I’m biased, I guess.  One of my classmates in the maritimes had a brain injured son.  He had gone to her covenanting service instead of his hockey game and was kicked off his team because according to his coach, his priorities weren’t right.  Hockey before everything, even God and your mother becoming a minister.  Since he was 16 and a very good player, he quickly found another team.  But he happened to be playing his former team when some NHL scouts were in the stands, and one of his former team mates hit him so hard in the head that he had to learn how to walk and talk again.   I came home horrified by this story, and mentioned it to a friend.  “Oh yes,” she said, “that happened in Alberta, only it was my relative that did the hitting.  The scouts told him that he was not the kind of person they wanted on a pro team and he spent the next few years playing video games in the basement waiting for the phone to ring with his NHL offer.  He was sure they would see him as a potential Dave Semenko.  They didn’t.

We treat our young men like war heroes when they win, and failures when they lose.  This starts early. When my son was nine, he was terribly upset when his floor hockey team lost.  He saw himself as the good guy, and the other team had the bully on it.  Surely, he would win against the bully, just like all those Disney shows.  What upset my son the most was not just the bursting of his Disney sports bubble, but the fact that many cheered on the bully who was a good player.  It wasn’t fair, he said.

Life is not fair.  We don’t win the Stanley Cup or the 649.  We hit a moose, we find ourselves addicted to gambling or porn or alcohol or pain meds or gossip or anger.  We see ourselves as the wonderful hero, and don’t understand the bully’s point of view.  We put our trust in political parties or systems or pension plans or insurance policies.  When things go wrong as they so often do, we look for someone to point the finger at.  In short, we are human.

We are fragile, we are temporary and we are sensitive to anything that might be seen as a threat.  Jesus saw the Jewish love of the Temple as a crutch and a danger.  Some thirty years after his death, the Temple was destroyed by Romans, and that was a tremendous shock to every God-fearing Jew, including those self-same disciples and the Hebrew followers of Jesus who our letter was written to.  It was such a shock that Jews today still go to the only part of the Temple that is standing, something we know as the Wailing Wall.  What are we to depend on if the Temple itself is destroyed?

The Author of Hebrews wrote to the people to have confidence in Jesus and each other.  To continue to come together and remember Jesus who could have chosen violence to destroy the Roman Empire, and war over peace, but chose water, wine and bread as symbols of a new way of facing down bullies and terrorists.  Jesus knew he was living in a corrupt society which did not value every human as worthy of dignity and respect.  Jesus knew he could be executed on the flimsiest charges at the whim of a bored Roman diplomat.  Indeed, he had no rights under the Roman Empire. Unlike Paul, who was a Roman Citizen by birth so could appeal to Caesar for justice, Jesus had no lawyers, no law for that matter that would give him justice.  Jesus only had his stories, his wit, his tremendous faith in God, and his commitment to not choose violence to end oppression and fear.  And yet, when you think about it, Jesus and his followers were able to undermine and survive the collapse of not one but two systems of oppression; the overuse of ritual which had forgotten what its purpose was, to remind people of God’s presence in the everyday activities of their lives, and the Roman Empire which dictated that the strongest man had all the rights and the powers, and weaker men could only have what they could defend.  There is no emperor in Rome today, after all, although other empires have risen and fallen since then. 

Still, more and more we hear of peace being a hallmark of healthy societies.  When was the last time we heard of the Tamil Tigers, or the last USSR communist threat, or IRA bombing?  And 1.6 billion folks are Muslim, and much less than 10,000 are at war.  If the CIA claims that Isis has at max 30,000 fighters; that leaves us with 99.81% of Muslims who want to live in peace.  Isis is a psychopathic bully that wants to scare us into playing a game of violence that will only cause more bloodshed.  And like any bully, we can either choose to become a bigger bully or find some other way to deal with the issues at hand.  Jesus chose not to be a part of the system of bullying priests in the temple who felt justified in accepting a widow’s last coins.  Jesus chose to live a life contrary to that kind of systemic violence. 

 Jesus wasn’t just condemning the temple, or predicting doomsday.  He was pointing to the human tendency to crave security, to protect oneself, to look at things as that which will keep us safe from danger.  And whether he was speaking to his disciples or speaking to us modern disciples, the message is the same.  What we put our hopes on to protect us from life will not work.  Only our faith will help us. 

Stop thinking that life is some giant hockey game with bad guys and good guys.  God is not some goalie in the sky who will protect the team from losing, or that God is the referee who will force everyone to follow the rules and send people to the penalty box, or even that God is the coach who will come up with the training schedule and the game plan and the motivational speeches.  No, life is a great skating party and God is the ice under our feet, that supports us as we play, that helps us glide and spin, that is firm when we feel like we are on thin ice, and is always there whether we fall or fight.  God is found in the hot chocolate that warms us from the inside and in the community that builds a bonfire for roasting marshmallows despite the cold and frosty weather. Let us pray for courage to choose the road to peace, the courageous choice that Jesus made even though it cost his life.  The choice he made out of love for us all.

Worrywarts unite!

When I hear today’s scripture, I don’t know if I’m the best person to preach on this or the worst!  I am a first class worrywart of the strongest kind.  This was a part of me even before I became a mom, a job that is almost inherently worry-filled.  When Tim and I were travelling on our honeymoon, I worried if we would have a roof over our heads in the next town or if we would run out of money, or whether we would have jobs when we got back to Alberta and so on.  You name it, I would worry about it.  Once I had little ones, I read as much as I could on how to be the perfect parent.  You know you are a world-class worrying mom when you obsess about peer pressure and drug habits in high schools when your child is still in diapers! It’s a wonder my kids turned out as well as they did.  Thank goodness their dad was more relaxed.

This scripture, our Thanksgiving reading of Matthew, "be like the birds of the air or the flowers" was one I had a hard time with.  Did Jesus want us all to become flower children of the sixties, going around and telling everyone to chill out, or as someone said to me the other day, ‘chillax’?  Go with the flow man, everything is far out, dude.  Well, I was not a teen ager in the sixties, I was more like Michael J. Fox’s character Alex Keaton in Family Ties, who carried a briefcase and was very different than his hippie parents. But I would have been very sceptical of anyone telling me, the way Jesus seems to be, that worrying is not the way to live life.  Try telling that to Syrian refugees or protestors in Turkey or people with disabilities trying to make it on a small pension.  But it is one thing to plan for the future and another thing to obsess about it.

Neuroscientists would side Jesus.  Worrying has a negative impact on brain chemistry, especially obsessive fretting about things we can’t control.  Trying to be thankful can actually help promote healthier brains than worrying will.  And so many times in my life, the stuff I spent hours fussing about were in the long run not worth the time and trouble I gave them.  Do the kids remember if I ran out of bandages on our camping trip in 2005? Heck, even I don’t remember if we went camping in 2005.  It has not added to my enjoyment of my life, my family or even my spiritual growth. 

I think I would agree with Jesus that worrying does not improve my spiritual life one little iota!  What it does do is focus my mind on things I cannot control, in the hopes that I can somehow prevent or change them.  Isn’t that a definition of insanity, trying to control those things we can’t control?  Worrying also says to me that I do not and cannot trust myself to deal with reality.  The future will always be terrifying and I will fall to pieces when that terrible future finally arrives.

So when I worry, I am focussing on fear and control.  Jesus says that I cannot do that, I cannot have two masters.  I can have God as my focus, or I can have the future as my focus, but I can’t have both.  My worry is actually a barrier between myself and God.  Being a worrywart is incompatible with being a pilgrim follower of Jesus. 

Now, I dare say Jesus would not want us to throw our lot with people who don’t think about the future at all.  There is certainly the story of Jesus telling his disciples to get him a donkey to ride into Jerusalem that sounds like he had arranged it ahead of time and gave them the password to use if the owners had any questions.  And he did prepare his disciples for the fact that he would be executed as a traitor to the state before they ever arrived in Jerusalem.  As one mentor of mine said, “Trust in God but tie up your camel”. 

Even so, we can say to ourselves that we are not going to let this habit of worrying spoil our lives.  It is a habit that can be transformed in simple ways.  One powerful tool is to recite the Serenity Prayer to ourselves when we are fretting.  Written by one of the most important American theologians as a way to cope with life during the dirty 30’s, his prayer to accept the things that we cannot change, the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference, is a spiritual practise that can help us to be more thankful.  Taking time to discern if the thing we are worrying about is something we can change or not is the first step towards letting go of our anxiety.

Writing things down helps.  When I read my old diaries, I can see how the things I worried about resolved in surprising ways.  Find a prayer practise that helps you get calm, as simple as singing your favorite hymn or walking the labyrinth or some other calming practise.  Give your worries to God.  Say, “God, this is too big for me, please deal with it how you think best.” And join together in community to share stories of thanksgiving, of resiliency, of prayers answered or worries unfounded.  When we join with our brothers and sisters of faith, we can rise above our fears and worries to live in the memory of Jesus.  After all, he faced the worst that humanity can experience without it ending his dream and purpose for a new kind of world where all can practise thanksgiving prayers and kindness to one another.  In the end it’s not about what we can do, it’s remembering to ask God for the gifts of serenity, courage and wisdom. God will give us what we need to get through another day. May it be so for us all.