Spilled Coffee

So I’m coming out of Paddymelon’s with a big coffee mug full to the brim.  Someone jogs my elbow and what spills out all over the sidewalk? Coffee? 

Well, those who know me really well will say anything but coffee unless I’m bringing a cup of joe to my husband Tim.  Tea possibly, chai latte or London fog, white hot chocolate, just about anything but not coffee.  Why?  Because what I put in my coffee mug is what will come spilling out. 

So too, what will come spilling out of my mouth may be any number of things.  Since I’m a Canadian, an apology.  “Sorry,” I will say, even if the person jostling my arm was the instigator of the spill.

If I’m at home and it’s been a long day, and Tim backs into me when I don’t expect it, there may be something far different than “sorry” spilling from my lips.  And if the coffee mug drops, splashing boiling beverage all over me then shatters to a million pieces, especially if it’s a favorite mug from a beloved aunt who has long since left this earth, well, even I don’t want to hear the words spilling out of my lips.  And if it’s been a really bad week, with a funeral that shouldn’t have happened to someone too young or too close, well, there just might be tears involved on top of it all, and a real honest to goodness grief burst!

What comes pouring out can be quite situational, and quite human.  Being human is a messy business, with emotions that hit us when we least expect it, sometimes right between the eyes, sometimes right in the stomach.  We find anger flaring up, resentment, frustration, jealousy, envy.

We pray, God, fill us good guys with good things, we’re on the right side, reward us please, and punish the evil doers.  Dry up their bank accounts, impound their trucks, put their kids in the foster care system, confiscate their weapons, and lock them up where they can’t threaten us anymore.  That too is human.  But thoughts like these can fill us up with evil emotions.

Scripture says “Be still before God and wait patiently.  Do not fret because some prosper in evil schemes.”  Easy to say, hard to do, especially when our nightly news is full of disturbing images of police in body armor, collections of guns being discovered horded by protestors, of politicians scolding each other, of racist flags, of children being taught to blockade legitimate traffic between two countries.  Be still before God, wait patiently.  Even harder, let go of anger, and recognize the damage fretting can do to the human soul.  Trust in God instead of imperfect, messy humanity.  One of the reasons I believe so many people were entrenched in Ottawa is because they put all their trust in themselves and no one else.  If the election brought in a government that they don’t like, they don’t trust the rest of Canadian voters.  If the medical community brought in restrictions that they don’t want, they sneer at the very people trying to keep them alive.  If the scientists make discoveries they don’t understand, they call them names and view them as part of a mass conspiracy.  If the media tries to communicate what the voters, the medical researchers and the scientists are discovering and they find it confusing, they turn to other sources that stoke their anger.  They only believe in themselves and the hope that they will get their own way.

They do not have hope in ideals, in principles, in due process or in the Golden Rule.  Do to others as you would have them do to you is not where they are at.  I suspect that they would not respond pleasantly if someone moved into their homes and started blaring air horns 24/7 for weeks on end.

Luke’s passage has Jesus recognizing that not everyone will be able to hear his words.  “I say to you that hear me”, or in other versions, “you that are still listening”, means that he too knew the messiness of what Jeremiah called the deceitful human heart.  Jesus knew that what he was teaching was so hard that folks were tuning out.  He had just told them about the beatitudes, the Blessed are those who the world think are cursed, and that was a conversation stopper for most of them.  Then he threw a real zinger at them.  "Love your enemies, and do good to those who hate you."  Well, that is so against what human nature wants to do, that it would tune out a lot of his listeners.  No way would good Jewish people want to hear that they were to be loving to the Roman soldiers that oppressed them, the tax collectors that robbed them, the schemers and power brokers that bullied them.  But that is exactly what Jesus was trying to teach them.  And with his ‘Turn the other cheek’, he was laying the groundwork for nonviolent resistance.  As one internet pundit wrote, "Let me be very clear.  This was not a call to grit our teeth and be nice to bullies, to stay in abusive relationships or to be quiet in the face of injustice."  This was a call to make sure everyone could see the bullying for what it was, and by standing up to them to offer the other cheek, or giving them your shirt as well as your coat, was to show to everyone around that they were doing this shameful behavior but you still kept your dignity intact.  But how does that play out in real life, Jesus?

A good example is the Greensboro sit in back in February of  1960, where young black college students prepared themselves to go to a Woolworth’s lunch counter and sit there until they were served lunch.  They knew it wouldn’t be easy.  They practiced so that no matter what violence was thrown at them, they would stay calm and not retaliate.  They would not punch back, they would not fight, they would not bring in guns or weapons or horns or hot tubs or flags, they would just sit until they were offered a menu.  Four young college students sat waiting for food that did not come.  The next day they were back, and the news spread to other colleges in the Southern US.  At one point there were 300 students at that lunch counter, and it became one of the cornerstones of the Civil Rights Movement.  Segregation ended although the racism never did.  But that Woolworths counter now houses the International Civil Rights Center and Museum, which includes the lunch counter where the Greensboro Four sat.

Coffee was served to anyone who wanted it, and tea and probably some iced teas and sodas.  And eventually the love that they had for their cause and for justice and equal rights for all spilled out on everyone around them.

What are you putting in your coffee mug?  What are you putting in your heart and mind?  Are you able to hear Jesus teach you to love your enemies and do good to those who hate you?  It’s not easy, of course, but I trust that this is what God is calling us to do.  Not to love the angry actions of the people who are hurting others by their noisy protests, but to look at them for the stunted shrubs in a dry desert, for the hopeless people that they are who don’t know how to trust in anyone but themselves.  Who put anger in their coffee cups and don’t drink anything other than that.  And to fill up our own coffee cups with stillness before God so that when the difficult times come and we are jostled by life, what will spill out will be peace and hope and compassion for all who struggle through these difficult times.

The Courage to Speak

Rather like going home to a big family reunion and people say, “oh, you’re little Nell, my how you’ve grown up” or they launch into a story of something we did when we were 8 and didn’t know any better.Preaching to the hometown crowd is a daunting task.  I have never preached in the church I grew up in.  There’s something about standing up in front of a congregation who remembers you when you were a little kid in Sunday School that is unnerving.    It would be hard to step into the preaching role in front of babysitters and teachers.

Yet that’s exactly what Jesus did.  He had the courage to speak to those old family friends, neighbors, matriarchs and patriarchs in the community.  He had courage because he knew his purpose, taken straight from one of the longest and most revered scrolls that are beloved by Jews and Christians alike.  Isaiah 61 became the core focus of his ministry and gave him courage to tell them what his purpose was. Even though he missed a phrase here and there.

Many students going into the ministry have a similar experience, a scripture that grabs them not just logically but also emotionally.  This one happens to be mine.  It was cemented in my head by the Strathdee Song, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because God has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. God has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.”  In fact, it was around this time in 2007, in the season of Epiphany, when I went up to Rev. Dale Irving and said, “please stop reading these call scriptures and playing all these call hymns because they are making me cry.”  Hymns that have haunting words like, “Here I am Lord, is it I Lord, I have heard you calling in the night” that would have the tears streaming down my face.  Thank goodness wise and gentle Rev. Irving knew what to do with me, like a Hogwarts sorting hat!  But this scripture is not just for folks in ministry; if it was, Jesus would have only read it to his disciples, not the whole congregation in Nazareth.

Which is why we keep reading these scriptures – they are addressed to us all.  But how do we know when the Spirit is with us?  I think it comes through continual questioning and testing.  Jesus was tested in the wilderness.  We constantly are tested in our own wildernesses. And Jesus measured his decisions and actions by Isaiah 61.  We too can measure our decisions and actions by this scripture. 

What kind of testing are we facing right now?  I was struck by what David Staples wrote in the Edmonton Journal on Wednesday, “we all study COVID stats and listen to expert commentary, focusing on numbers and words that conform to our own basic needs and selfish desires.”  Basic needs and selfish desires are tests to our courage and our faith.  It is often hard to tell which is which.  Is a night out at a movie theatre a basic need or a selfish desire?  Is a trip to the pool if I’m not vaccinated a basic need or a selfish desire?

My head chaplain for K Division RCMP put it this way,

[Recently, I] realized the extra stresses that the pandemic has been putting on many... I think it’s the constant changing rules, the length of the pandemic, the insecurities it has brought, the feelings of social isolation and not being able to get away to recoup with family and friends.

The recent cold snap and not even wanting to go outside has also had an effect … These are just some of the things that are creating signs of depression and isolation that all of us are having to face.”

He spoke with courage about what we are all struggling with.  The mental health challenge of knowing where the dividing line between selfishness and need is.  The challenge of forgetting that we are called to respect and serve others.  The spirit was speaking through him just like Jesus. The Spirit was not on Jesus so he could have his best life ever, or to have wealth, influence and power.  The Spirit was on Jesus so he could help others find release from what imprisoned them.  We all want to be released from the imprisonment of Covid, but maybe what we really need is to be released from not questioning the difference between our wants and needs, from the difficulty of choosing what is right instead of what is easy.

Figuring out what is right instead of what is easy can be seen in the discussion of homelessness this week.  What is easy is finding a house people can live in and keep from freezing.  But homelessness is a complex issue that is not fixed by warehousing folks like Timothy Phillips.  What really is imprisoning them?  And how do we set them free from their imprisonment? 

Jesus spoke of truth and healing with courage.  We can do that by speaking our truths in ways that respect other people’s truth. Our views of reality may differ, but speaking our truth from wrestling with our own desires for easy solutions, and learning from the wrestling, is our way to connect to the Spirit.  We can’t free others from their imprisonment until we have freed ourselves.  And the way to do that is to check that we’re following the words that Isaiah gave us, reminding us that we are called to the same core purpose as Jesus, witnessing to the good news that freedom from oppression, fear, anxiety and selfishness is here in this, God’s year to act! May it be so for us all. 

Taking the Plunge

One of the joys of living in Athabasca is being able to walk along flowing water.  Being so close to the river and the creek is just wonderful, at least when it’s not -30.  We see all kinds of wildlife like the beaver in this photo, and while I’m glad not to have had a close encounter with a bear or a moose on the trails, Tim has.  I’ll stick to beaver spotting at a respectful distance.

I was surprised to learn that the Jordan River is not a grand wide river like the Athabasca.  At the place where John the Baptist was supposed to have set up shop, it’s slower and shallower than that, more like the Tawatina where it goes under the bridge during the spring.  Slow and steady.  Waist deep.  Muddy brown and probably quite refreshing on a hot day.  And a place of great significance even back then.   It wasn’t the size that mattered, it was the sense that this was the boundary between the land of outcasts and wanderers and the Promised Land.  The boundary between poverty and prosperity, between nomadic uncertainty and settled roots, between disconnection and identity, between chaos and purpose.  For the people of the Holy Land, it defined who was ‘us’ and who were ‘they’.  It was a natural border that became the difference between away and home.

A place to wash off foreign influences and prepare to enter the Holy Land, set apart by God for the people of Israel.  A place to prepare to go to the Holy of Holies, the Temple of Jerusalem, a few days' walk away.  A place to start new initiatives, new projects, new lives. 

No wonder John set up there, and that Jesus met him there.  It was full of scriptural importance for the people as well as symbolic importance, and a great place to make great commitments. We pick a time for new resolutions, but they had a place.  A humble, muddy river with a deep history for a frequently embattled community.  A place of hope, new beginnings and new possibilities.

How does that understanding of baptism in the Jordan affect the story of the Samarian baptisms?

The disciples, no longer able to sit at the foot of their teacher Jesus, are still safely ensconced in Jerusalem, hunkered down, and waiting for Saul of Tarsus to get tired of persecuting them.  They are focused on their own people, and remembering what Jesus taught them.  They start delegating work to others, and so Phillip the Deacon went out into the wider world, doing far more than he had been asked.  He found his way into Samaria, preaching and baptizing as he went, finding great success.  He followed the nudging of the Spirit and found himself far beyond Jerusalem, far beyond the Jordan River. 

He found himself outside his cultural community, with people who talked a little differently, who worshipped a little differently, who had a different cultural identity than him.  All those differences didn’t stop him.  Not even the attention of a shyster snake oil salesman in the town, Simon the Magician, deterred him.

Phillip kept on teaching and preaching.  And that got the 12 hiding safely in Jerusalem so curious that Peter and John left to check it out.  They weren’t there to fix or correct or advise Phillip, just to see if the reports were true and to encourage him.  They only were puzzled by why the Spirit had not been included in the baptism, a bit confusing even by our standards, but whatever they did or said to Phillip, he was emboldened to continue preaching and baptizing.  The next chapter is all about his encounter with the Ethiopian Eunuch and that was a transformative moment full of Spirit in the fledgling church.  Clearly, the message of good news was spreading beyond safe cultures, safe borders, safe languages, and catching fire amongst people that the 12 did not predict.  It surprised them and encouraged them.  It reminded them of their own baptisms, and the times that they had experienced with Jesus because of it.  It emboldened all twelve to eventually leave Jerusalem, ending in places like Rome, Spain, India and Turkey, far from the safety and security of the Jordan River.  Remembering their baptism gave them the courage to go out and live what Jesus taught.

Remembering our baptisms is not something everyone can do.  I was baptized as an infant, so I don’t remember what it was like.  But I remember my brother’s baptism, my children’s baptisms, my husband’s baptism and the baptisms I have done here among you, from seven-year-old Sidney and baby Emilie and  toddler Isla to adults Bev, Heather, Gordon, and Wendy, which I thoroughly enjoyed getting wet!  Every time we gather in community to celebrate and welcome another soul into God’s big family, I get a speck of something in my eye.  Every time we get to bless an individual and their spiritual journey and hear what a difference we have made in their lives, I get a lump in my throat.  I remember OUR baptisms!

Baptism is where we learn that Christianity isn’t just a philosophy, it isn’t just a logical bunch of ideas that stick.  It isn’t just a bunch of mumbo jumbo touchy feelie stuff that anyone can do.  It isn’t for sale, as the magician Simon discovered the hard way.  It’s more than community, although it’s part of community.  It’s more than miracles and signs, which surprisingly I have heard a few here in my time.  Christianity is an experience and a movement that empowers many.  It gives life and purpose to those who are struggling, it gives compassion to those who believe that they have to be tough individuals to be successful.  It challenges the magicians looking for power to rethink their understanding of what it means to be a thriving human being.  It challenges us all to reflect and reorient our lives towards God’s loving community.

Try this experiment the next time you are in the shower, the bath or even washing your hands.  Take a moment to feel the water and say to yourself a few times, “Remember your baptism”.  Reflect on how far your journey has brought you and ask God where you might be called like Phillip, Peter and John, to set out into the unknown with good news for all to hear.  Remember the nurturing, sustaining, and transforming power of God’s love and our grateful response to that gift of God, that amazing grace.  Remember that you are gifted, called and chosen by God to inspire and empower the people around you.  And if you are not baptized, I invite you to prayerfully consider it as a sign of hope and inclusion in this community of faith.  It is the sign of a journey, an adventure that leads us all in surprising new directions with a community that stretches all the way back to Jesus and John standing in a modest river, starting something that became bigger than their wildest dreams.  May our baptisms, past, present and future be part of God’s great plan for a beautiful world.  Amen.

Eyes on the Stars

There’s something so inspiring in the story of the Magi.  Following a star on a long journey that must have taken years to complete, one step ahead of another without a map or invitation.  On a hunch that they got from staring up at the sky.  Pretty amazing.  There must have been times when they felt tired, discouraged, maybe even doubtful or depressed, and yet they continued on. 

I felt discouraged this week, as Council discussed closing the church to in person worship again.  We have always put the health of the congregation as our top priority and been prudent and cautious.  But there was a part of me that selfishly wanted to keep seeing people in the sanctuary to talk to and worship with.  Thank goodness that we work together to come up with the difficult decisions that are for the greatest good of the community.  I imagine that the magi also faced similar conversations and conundrums, especially when debating how to return home.  It would have been easier to take a familiar path back, be treated like royalty in Herod’s palace, perhaps soaking in a hot tub to get rid of the smell of the manger and the sheep and cows.  Instead, they heeded that niggling voice that suggested they turn off the beaten path and skip Jerusalem on the way home.

It’s hard to know when to heed that niggling voice and when to ignore that voice.  Christians call this discernment, and it’s not easy.  We sometimes talk ourselves into doing something we shouldn’t, or talk ourselves out of doing something we should, and it’s hard to tell what is ego talking and what is God talking.  There have been times when we talk ourselves into doing things and regret it, and other times when we discover that our hunches have been very helpful.

I once got a gift of a simple notebook that someone had taken the time to fill with inspirational quotes but left plenty of room to add my own quotes to it as I found them.  She doodled and copied and scrapbooked probably 30-40 quotes into it and I have added some every time I find a quote I want to remember.  I also started to give notebooks of quotes to folks I knew that were getting ordained.  I now have a file of quotes and prayers for ministers on my computer, so I can print them off, glue them into the notebook, hand copy the shorter ones and send it on.  Last May someone from AST was getting ordained and I got another notebook out, but for whatever reason, I kept procrastinating on putting the quotes in.  Life was busy, it went to the bottom of my to do list, and I never got around to sending it.  Last November, I finally made time to put it together and sent it off to the new minister.  Imagine my surprise when I got a hand-written card back thanking me for the perfect timing.  It had arrived in the mail just when the minister needed a little encouragement.  The quotes hit home and inspired them to remember that they were not alone.  We all need a little inspiration once in a while, and we all find inspiration from each other.  I think it’s not a coincidence that the magi traveled in a group.  Jesus said, “where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there”, and whenever I am struggling to know what is wise, I know that gathering two or three, talking to our church council or one of our committees, is the best way to come up with new solutions or ideas.  New ways of working through challenging decisions, new inspirations, new hopes and dreams.

Scripture can be like a third person in the conversation, the wise words of experience that can guide us into new paths.  It can form and shape and inspire us.  It can surprise us when we least expect it to.  I was quite surprised to see that Psalm 148, the reading we started our service with, mentioned snow and frost, for example.  I struggle with the idea that God controls the weather, as I think this cold snap is no more caused by God than the floods in BC or the heat bubbles in Alberta last summer.  If God so loved the world, it doesn’t make sense for God to punish the world, or at least Western Canada with these huge temperature swings.  Much more likely for us to be experiencing the natural consequences of global warming from too much carbon in the air than an angry God micromanaging the polar vortex.

So while we treat scripture with respect, we also recognize and wrestle with its shortcomings.  Scripture didn’t understand bacteria or viruses, scripture didn’t know about oil and gas or machines or factories.  Scripture couldn’t see through telescopes to realized that Mars and Jupiter weren’t stars but planets.  Scripture is one of our partners in the discernment conversation, but not a voice that shouts to drown out the other voices.  John Wesley, founder of the Methodist Church, firmly believed that such conversations needed to include scripture, and community wisdom, but also logic and emotion. That can be a pretty crowded conversation, to weave all these aspects into decisions.

Yet decisions made together this way can lead to great wisdom, just like the wise men taking a different route home.  Wisdom speaks to us and helps guide us into decisions that might not be popular or easy but most loving.  Wisdom can inspire wonderful new ideas and creative solutions.  Wisdom can discover new opportunities that we didn’t know about.  When we look to wisdom to inspire us, and discover wisdom among us, we can find God leading us in new exciting directions.  Our Song of Faith puts it this way, “In and with God, we can direct our lives toward right relationship with each other and with God.  We can discover our place as one strand in the web of life. We can grow in wisdom and compassion. We can recognize all people as kin. We can accept our mortality and finitude, not as a curse, but as a challenge to make our lives and choices matter.”  May we find words of wisdom and choices through discernment to make our lives matter in new and inspiring ways this year.  Amen.

The Love of Power or the Power of Love?

Well, we have made it to another Christmas.  This year it is good to have you in the building, the musicians and choir, the lights and music, as well as you at home or reading these words.  It reminds me of “How the Grinch Stole Christmas”, and that the Grinch couldn’t steal Christmas because it’s not about the stuff, the gifts or the food.  They are the side effects of the celebration, not the celebration itself.  Just as Christmas for us is not only about parties and gifts but about something more.  Something enduring.  Something that inspires us to be the best selves we can be.  Something that reminds us of the Power of Love.

There are a lot of examples of the opposite, something the Vancouver School of Theology called the love of power.  We see that in the news about last year’s attempted coup in the U.S., a chilling attack on the democratic process.  We saw that when graves were discovered on the grounds of residential schools in Canada this summer. We are seeing that in Shanghai after their elections of pro-Communist politicians. And we see that here at home in officials who have Christmas parties flaunting the rules of gathering, or that set policies around family gatherings for personal preference, regardless of what the science says.

The love of power is insidious.  It is an infection that is hard to diagnose.  It is seen in politics but also in abusive relationships, in workplaces, in parenting styles, in family gatherings, in classrooms and community organizations.  It is a hard infection to treat because we often don’t even realize we have it.

Its symptoms are hidden in microaggressions, in people rolling their eyes at someone else’s comments, or in anger bursts that are bigger than necessary.  It’s in plain sight in people who wander our stores without masks on, or in complaints to town council or school boards about masks and vaccinations.  It is in plain sight when our health care nurses in Alberta need security guards to make sure they get home safely after work.  It is seen when organizations like CBC deciding not to allow discussions on Facebook because the vitriol has become so ugly.  Sometimes it is heard, as Severna and I had the misfortune of hearing, over the phone as one person yelled and swore at another person when they thought we weren’t listening.  Power over.  From the tiny comments of “Honey, take the garbage out” when honey has already done a myriad of tasks that day, to the big actions of vandalism, like the fires in Athabasca that happened this summer.  Our world is infected with the craving to have power over someone else.

Into this world of Love of Power, Something sneaks in.  Whether you call that something the Deep Mystery, the Great Architect, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, the Spirit of Music or Art, I don’t care much, but it sneaks in to vaccinate the world with the Power of Love.  It takes a very nasty and insecure individual to feel threatened by a tiny new baby, and the people who were most infected to the Love of Power were indeed threatened.  But the people who didn’t have much power, the poor staying in a barn, the shepherds living with no fixed address, the villagers and neighbors, they felt the Power of Love.

That moment of fragile vulnerability, a tiny hand waving in the air, a set of new lungs breathing in the aroma of cows and sheep and donkeys and straw, that was a clear sign that something was up, something had changed, and the world would be a different place from that time on.

I see that power of love when I hear that first nations people are rebuilding their burnt down church in St. Theresa Point First Nation in northern Manitoba.  I see that power of love when bags of clothes are dropped off for the homeless without even being asked, and people know they will get to folks in need.  I see that when a Christmas letter with no return address comes for me and I find gift cards to A&W.  It said “because we have decided to cancel all gatherings, we would like to give you the gift cards… if you know of someone who is struggling and could use a bit of sunshine… please gift the cards to them.  We appreciate your dedication to the community.”  That’s the Power of Love.

When we come here, listen to the stories, the music, the words of glad tidings of great joy, we are choosing to be vaccinated with the Power of Love.  We get our booster shots against our most terrible infection, and we remember once again that the Power of Love continues to change lives here and now.  The Power of Love conquers all fear and is the best tiding of great joy the world has ever known.  The Power of Love continues to work in us and others whenever we ponder the Christmas Story deep in our hearts like Mary did so many years ago.  The Power of Love cures our deepest diseases and infections.  May we find hope and courage to choose that love in all we do in the days to come.  Amen.

Hamster Wheels

When my kids were little, they had pet mice.  And what those mice loved doing more than anything was run in their hamster wheels.  Because they were nocturnal, we would wake up to the noise of the mice running as fast as their little paws could carry them, sometimes with so much energy and verve that the wheel would fall over and they had to stop running.  They would be so frustrated that they would chew on their wheel.  As soon as we set it up again, they would ignore it until the next night when the whole cycle would start over.  We should have hooked a generator to that hamster wheel, it went so fast the momentum of the wheel was stronger than the mouse that was moving it. It sent them for a spin upside down and dumped them out onto their soft papered cage floor.  The mice were quite bewildered about what had happened, but they kept on running!

Sometimes it seems like I’m running in a giant hamster wheel.  Work, eat, sleep and repeat.  There’s so much to do, especially at this time of the year.  That’s typical of many people.  Except for Christmas parties thrown by British Government staff people, most of us had a much quieter Christmas than usual last year, and we’ll probably do the same this year.  Presents are mailed, visits are curtailed, and zoom calls connect us without the long drives we’re used to.  It’s like our hamster wheels have stopped turning and thrown
us out back on the ground and we’re still a little dazed by everything. Some of us have enjoyed the break, some of us are still on the wheel but just can’t seem to get up to speed, and for those who are working in the health system, they have had to run faster than ever before.  They find themselves doing the loop de loop.  The constant stress has meant that collectively our blood pressure levels are higher.  Probably because of the sticker shock we have when we go grocery shopping and realize how much the price of food has risen.  Or the grief we feel when we hear of the rise in opioid overdoses impacting mostly young people.

We are living in tough times.  Zephaniah, if you read all of the book, which is only 3 chapters long, knew similar times of harsh fear and being in survivor mode.  He called out systemic injustice and would have had no tolerance of food systems that waste billions of dollars of food every year in Canada.  He would have called out oil companies that leave orphaned wells on farmland and impact the quality of the soil we need to grow crops.  He would have called out government curriculums that teach only a colonialist version of history, and pointed out the addictions we have to shopping or Netflix or on-line bullying or drugs.  He would have called out the oppressive employment practices of big corporations.  Just like John the Baptist, coming charging out of the wilderness, filled with a passion to name the hamster wheels we are running in.

Zephaniah heard God’s promise that our shame will be turned to praise, but the shame has to be named and faced first.  It’s specific and individual.  John heard several groups of people who recognized their shame in being stuck in their hamster wheels of oppression.  But John didn’t want to just get them out of their hamster wheels, but out of their cages completely!  His advice, tailored to several different career paths, was designed to get them fired!  If a tax collector only collected what they were supposed to as part of the system of oppression that Rome imposed on all its colonies, the other tax collectors would resent it and complain to the higher authorities about being undermined.  If a soldier stopped taking bribes, the rest of the soldiers would complain that they had gone soft on the locals and was no longer enforcing Roman Rule.  Enough soldiers and tax collectors changing their attitudes to the people they were supposed to be controlling and the system would collapse.  Which eventually it did. 

We can’t escape our hamster wheels or our cages until we recognize that we are in them.  People like Zephaniah and John help us to recognize that.  It’s not until we have heard their call and ask ‘what should we do’, that the cage opens up and we can feel the joy at being able to run like a hamster as God intended.

My favorite example of this is the Sister Act movies with Whoopi Goldberg.  In Sister Act 2, she goes to an inner school where the kids are trapped in a system of oppression.  They don’t want to run like hamsters, but no one is willing to support their dreams.  Sister Mary Clarence comes in, challenges the kids to get off the hamster wheels, challenges the administrators who are intent on closing down the school, and takes the new school choir to state championships where they win the contest and save their school.

This movie was inspired by a real teacher, Iris Stevenson-McCullough, who teaches music in Los Angeles in a school predominantly attended by visible minorities.  Her choirs have risen to national prominence, performing in France and Jamaica, winning many competitions.  At one point she and many other teachers were going to be fired by the Los Angeles School Board.  She publicly spoke against the cuts, inspiring media attention and reversing the cuts.  In doing so, she also inspired the people behind Sister Act 2!  In 2014, she took her school choir to perform at the White House for the Obamas and was suspended for 4 months by the school board for doing so.  Students protested again, and she still teaches as well as leading music at her Church.  She encourages her children, like John the Baptist, to not let them get stuck in cages on hamster wheels.

What can we do?  What cages are we in?  What hamster wheels are we running around in?  Who could we be sharing a second coat with or some food with?  When we break out of our cages of shame and fear, we can feel real joy as God intended us to.  Joy comes to us all, when we answer God’s call!

Open Wide and say Awe

 Ever wonder if dentists are lonely people?  Do they get invited out to Christmas parties and then get shunned because no one wants to talk about their work?  Do they have a hard time dating without staring at everyone’s teeth?  Do they really expect scintillating conversations from us when their fingers and tools are in our mouths?

When I was a kid, my dentist seemed scary and rough.  He was always pulling teeth.  I inherited my small jaw from my British father, and sturdy teeth from my Slavic mother.  The British were often lampooned as having the worst teeth, crooked and looking more like a picket fence than a denture.  My teeth were so crooked I couldn’t bite into an apple!  It hurt! 

So teeth got pulled and braces were attached, and even with all that, my teeth are still a little crooked but at least I can bite an apple now without even thinking about it.  No more picket fence!  It was painful and scary, but I was always glad when the dentist would say, “you’re done, time to rinse and spit”.

Prophets were not that much different in some ways from dentists.  They, looked at the culture of the time and took some soul x rays.  Then they would say where the cavities were, where the plaque had built up, where there needed to be more flossing, and where the cavities were. 

Malachi called things as he saw them, and what he saw was rampant corruption of the religious leaders.  They were cutting corners, making excuses, and putting their own interests first.  Malachi said they offered inadequate sacrifices and weren’t providing the best spiritual experience they could.  The priests were probably coping to the best of their abilities.  They were rebuilding the temple after it had been destroyed by the Babylonians and were working with the returning refugees as well as the people who stayed after the war. Two groups of people suffering from generational post-traumatic stress. The priests tried to shape them into a coherent team that could work together in a land where things were rough and bumpy, where things were rutted and crooked.  Every shovel of dirt to clear and rebuild a farm, a road, a home, a shop, had to be done by hand.  It was a time where the worry of another invading army would have been uppermost in their minds.  Where peace was a luxury only to be dreamed of but never attained.  But the priests had gotten a little complacent, a little lackadaisical, a little sloppy.  Malachi called them to repent.

John took his call to repentance a step further.  He didn’t target the priests specifically, he called everyone.  His message wasn’t to the elite but to everyone.  Now John is a puzzling character.  When I picture him in a modern-day context, I imagine him in tatters and rags, a street person standing on a soapbox.  The surprising thing is that people actually listened to John, despite his odd eating habits and bad wardrobe.  They could see that he had lived through tough times and respected him because of it.    He must have been a tough son of a gun.  But why is he in our Advent readings?  Aren’t we supposed to be reading about angels and babies and peace and hope?  This passage sounds more like John is coming as a threat not a blessing.

Did you know that John the Baptist is mentioned in every gospel except John?  He is mentioned more than the shepherd which are only in Luke, more than Mary and Joseph, who are not in Mark, and more than the wise men who are only in Matthew.  Yet we don’t have a lovely statue of toddler John the Baptist at the manger!  John is missing from the picture of Christmas.  But we ponder his words and actions every Advent as we ponder his call to us to make things straight.

Advent is a time to do our yearly checkup and have our spiritual teeth cleaned.  Are our dentures fitting properly, do we need to floss more, why is that tooth hurting?  It’s not easy going to a Godly dentist, but just like going to an earthly one, we head off way more problems when we go regularly.  That’s what our time of self-reflection and confession is, an opportunity to reflect on our souls and scrub them before God.  Get that ungodly plaque off before we start getting cavities of our thinking and feeling.  Some people make a habit of doing this daily, through meditation or bedtime thoughts.  I journal every morning.  Some of you get a daily devotional e-mail. What do you do to keep your spirit clean and sparkly?

If Malachi is the dentist that cleans and scrapes our teeth, maybe John the Baptist does the root canals and the cavity filling.  And Jesus is the one who does the bridgework and builds the braces.

Taking my crooked teeth and making them straight was not easy, it was not cheap, it was not fast, it was not painless.  And it was not something I could do myself.  I needed a dentist and also an orthodontist.  I needed my parents to drive me to appointments.  I needed the Alberta Teacher’s Union who instituted dental plans.  I needed a good anesthetist to put me under so my impacted wisdom teeth could be extracted.  And I needed time.  I could help by brushing and flossing regularly, avoiding gum and popcorn, and getting regular checkups. 

Our spiritual help comes from God, who is calling us to partner together.  Some of us have never brushed our spiritual teeth and just coming to church is enough.  Some of us brush after spiritual sticky stuff get on our souls, a couple of times a month.  Some of us brush daily.  Some of us add floss after eating spiritual corn on the cob, and some of us are diligent at both brushing and flossing daily.  Even that does not always prevent spiritual cavities and pain, but knowing we have a good dentist to turn to when the going gets rough, helps us turn to wonder and awe at the gifts of our loving Dentist who helps us grow straight and smooth.  Thank you God, for your holy checkups that lead to peaceful souls! Amen.