A New Thing Ahead

On Sunday, November 6, 2016, the congregation of Mirror United Church will hold their last service after 112 years of serving the communities of Lamerton and Mirror.  It’s not a new or unique story: like many rural churches, the congregation has become small and tired and not financially able to sustain its ministry.  That’s happening a lot, and not just with small rural churches.

It’s a sad day and we grieve the loss of a unique church family, a place of worship and a building that was once at the heart of the community for many people.  There will be memories to share and stories to tell.  The life of the congregation comes to an end much like the life of an old, close friend.  There is a long life to celebrate, but it seems like the best years are past and it’s time for this life to be done.

After the few remaining members made the decision to disband, we sat and talked about what will happen next and what might be in the closing service.  One of them pushed a bible across the table to me, open to Isaiah, and pointed to these verses: “Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old.  I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” (Isaiah 43:18-19)

These were prophetic words of hope for the Hebrew people.  Conquered by the Assyrians and many exiled from Jerusalem to Babylon, this is the part of Isaiah that foretells that things are about to change for them: a messiah will come and Jerusalem will be renewed.  For the Hebrews, that was Darius and the Persians who defeated the Assyrians and liberated the Hebrews (kind of) and restored Jerusalem (mostly).   It’s also the part of Isaiah that Christians hear and love the most as foretelling the coming of Jesus.  It’s the most quoted part of Hebrew scripture in the gospels, not just for its prophecy, but for its message of hope in making a new world.

But I don’t think that the writer means for God to say forget the past entirely.  I think it means let go.  Let go of the past, don’t cling to it.  Let the past do what the past should do: inform your present and move you forward.  Let the past inspire your vision, not cloud it.  How else will you perceive the new thing that’s happening?

I think there’s different contexts for that letting go.  It’s not just about the hardship, struggle or conflict.  Every life has its share of that.  It’s also about letting go of the things we celebrate, in a way.  What we bring forward from all our experiences is what we’ve learned that can inform the new present, otherwise we’re simply repeating things, both destructively and because “we’ve always done it that way” (a classic church dilemma).  Both bind us to the past.  While we may find comfort and safety there, our ability to envision the future and see possibility and potential in it comes with holding the past where it belongs: in the past.

And Isaiah offers something else.  Right before these verses, he reminds the people that their God that promises them “a new thing” is the God of Exodus, the God who freed the people from bondage once before (Isaiah 16-17).  Let go of that past, says God, I’m doing a new thing.  And then, in the verses following, the new world of that new thing: a way through the wilderness, rivers in the desert, wild animals will be grateful and refreshment for God’s people (Isaiah 43:19-21).

Words of promise and hope.  Let go the past to be the past and step boldly into the future knowing that God goes with you to make a new thing.

We will celebrate with gratitude and appreciation the work of the Mirror congregation over many years.  The members that now move on to another congregation take their wisdom, experience, hopes and dreams there, looking forward to the new thing that is happening in their lives, knowing that God is with them.  The Mirror community, too, can look forward to a new thing happening with the legacy which is the church building.  We all can look forward to the newness of our lives with God.  Do you perceive it?

Living Thanksgiving

It’s Thanksgiving this week.  At least, in Canada.  And I mean the holiday named Thanksgiving, of course, not actual thanksgiving, itself.  That should happen every day.  I think it’s the point of a “holy-day,” to commemorate something we should be living out the other 364.

So go and be thankful, every day.  That could be the message of many a Thanksgiving sermon.  We might ask people what they’re thankful for or who they’re thankful for, maybe even in a creative and interactive way (yes, we’ll be doing that) and remind them to give thanks, to each other, to farmers for the harvest and workers for all they create, to friends and family and, of course, the Creator.  And not just this holiday weekend, but everyday.

You can’t command people to be thankful, though, or even to express their thanks.  Sure, from a young age we teach that one should say “thank you” when we are given something.  It’s a sign of politeness and respect to do so.  But just saying it doesn’t make you thankful.  Haven’t you ever said thank you when you weren’t really feeling thankful?

Our sense of gratitude is so easily impacted by expectation and entitlement.  It wasn’t what was expected or we expected better or we deserve it because it’s our right or it’s your job to provide that to me anyway.  And then there’s the things that we’re definitely not thankful for, like hate, war, violence, sickness, famine - that’s a long list, too.

But doesn’t that make it even more important that we be thankful for life?

Let go of the expectations and entitlement for a minute, please, and recognize the gifts that we are truly thankful for, the gifts that are deeper than those that we can be distracted from.  We know them, we do, because they feed us and they are life giving and life changing.  They may be large or small.  It may take a moment to discern them, to move aside all the other “stuff” that can get in the way, but choose to make that moment.  And not just one day, but everyday.

When I was little, we always said grace before meals.  This grace: “For what we are about to receive, may we be truly thankful.  Amen.”  I’m pretty sure that there were some meals I wasn’t too thrilled with.  I may not have eaten all my vegetables and sometimes there may have been beets, even.  But I remember “truly thankful.”  I may not always have seen it at the time, but I know it meant more than what was on the plate.  It meant that I was fed and cared for, had a place to be and people who cared for me and loved me.  It meant there was something greater.

I wonder if that grace isn’t for more than meals.  Maybe it’s for each new day, each new experience, each new moment that feeds our lives.

The gospel story for Thanksgiving this year is Jesus telling his followers that he’s “the bread of life.  Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”  (John 6:25-35)  I’m truly thankful for that, not perfectly, but truly.  And because Jesus feeds us, we should feed others.  Not perfectly, perhaps, but truly.  That’s living thanksgiving.  Truly.

Just a scratch behind the ear

We have a new puppy in our lives.  He’s a merle coloured chihuahua named Yoda.  We named him that in the hopes that he would be a small wise man with big ears.  You know, just like Yoda.

He’s not, of course.  Not yet, anyway.  Right now he’s a five month old puppy, so a whole lot of training has been happening at our house.  And here’s a few things he’s taught us: if you put it near me, I will chew it; I like to eat anything that’s on the ground - anything - but I’ll be a little fussy about when, or if, I’ll eat what’s in my bowl; the living room rug is a good place to do my business; I have no intention of doing as you say and, by the way - catch me; you better keep your eyes on the ground, cause I go where I want; I love my mommy and will cuddle and sleep in her lap, but that guy’s only good for being a bigger chew toy.

We’re learning, but I’m pretty sure he thinks we could do better.

Of course, I think he could do better.  He can be uncooperative, frustrating, time consuming, needy and annoying.  And super cute.  And friendly and fun and loving.  And did I mention super cute?  One minute he’ll be a rotten little so-and-so and the next minute he’ll be licking your hand and curl up next to you the couch.

He’s like a three year old boy.  Or a thirty year old.  Or a fifty year old.

Yeah, that’s where I’m going with this.  If you have a pet or a farm animal, you likely know that you can’t just expect them to be and do exactly what you want all the time.  Sooner or later there are moments when those creatures can behave in a way that's more than a little trying.  Then, a short while later, you'll be giving them an affectionate little scratch behind the ear and a smile like everything's fine and all is forgiven.

Wouldn't it be great if we could learn to give that much grace to people?  Wouldn't it be great if, the next time you saw someone on the street that you didn't like much or that you'd been having a disagreement with, wouldn't it be great if you just walked up to them and gave them a little scratch behind the ear.  Metaphorically, of course.

I know, you want to say "but it's not that simple for us.  We're much more complicated and sophisticated than animals."  Sure we are.  Mostly.  But why can't we be that simple - not simplistic - just simple?  Why can’t we be that childlike - not childish - about it?  That's the kind of simple grace God has for us.  And the kind of grace God would like us to have for each other, for all creatures and for the earth itself.

For the past few years, we’ve celebrated the last Sunday of September with a Blessing of the Animals at the Ag Grounds.  We’ve had many dogs and cats, kittens and puppies, a goat, a bearded dragon, chickens and bunnies.  We’d love to have horses, sheep, cattle and pretty much anyone.  Yoda will be there for the first time, sharing in the blessing that we are all a part of.

God's blessing rests on all creation.  Sharing that sense of blessing with each other, the other creatures who share this earth, and the earth itself, connects us.  “The earth does not belong to us, we belong to the earth.  All things are connected like the blood that unites us all.  We do not weave this web of life.  We are merely a strand of it.  Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves."  (Attributed to Chief Seattle, 1854.)

What do you see in a rainbow?

Our church has a rainbow.  Actually, now that I think about it, it has several.  But this new one’s a little different in scope.  It covers the entire walkway from the sidewalk to the front door.

Photo by Kerri Aucoin

It’s been an interesting couple of days painting it.  We made no announcement that we were doing it.  The church Board approved it and then we just did it.  Surprise.

People going by while it was being painted seemed quite happy with it.  Lots of smiles and compliments on how it looks and, interestingly, only an occasional “why?”  Or “what’s it for?”

I know that we did it as a statement about welcome.  Last June, the congregation voted to participate in the United Church’s Affirming Program, an educational and discernment process that reflects on what it means to be inclusive and evaluates our congregation’s openness to including all in the life and work of our ministry.  That’s ALL, including age, gender, race, ability, class, economic status and, in particular to the Affirming Ministry, sexual orientation and gender identity.

So, yes, we hope that people will recognize the LGBTQ+ rainbow and we hope they know they’re welcome and safe here.

We also hope that people who’ve seen our hand painted sign that says “We’ll take anyone” will find this a more eye-catching way of saying that and know that when we say anyone, we mean anyone, even “all the colours of the rainbow” anyone.  Not only are you welcome here, but appreciated for your differences and loved for who you are.

We hope that children will laugh and be inspired by it and know that the church is a happy and safe place for them, too.

We hope that people will be reminded of the ancient story of the Great Flood and remember that the rainbow is a sign of God’s covenant of life with us.

We hope that people will see that it’s creative and colourful and so are we.

We hope that people will see it and smile and be reminded of the sense of wonder and beauty that we experience when we see a rainbow in the sky.

The point is, we hope that you will see something that is welcoming, heart warming, friendly and inspiring that speaks to you.  See?

Mary Ellen loves this hymn

“Come in, come in and sit down, you are a part of the family.  We are lost and we are found, and we are a part of the family.”  That’s the chorus of Jim Manley’s hymn that many folks think is the unofficial theme song of the United Church of Canada.  Mary Ellen loves this hymn and every church should have a Mary Ellen.  There are other favourites, I’m sure, probably as many as there are congregations, but this is one that hits home with lots of people with its recurring motif of “we are a part of the family.”

The “family” image isn’t exclusive to the United Church, of course.  Our “church family” is a popular way to describe any congregation or community of faith.  We’ve probably heard it used in other places, too, anywhere that people work or play together in a close enough way to form a relationship: work, school, clubs, communities.  The key is the relationship part, isn’t it?

Yes, says Jesus, yes it is.

And we have some struggle with that.  It wasn’t that long ago that the structure of a “conventional” family was as set in stone as it was in Jesus day: father and mother, 2.5 children, dog or cat and a reliable automobile.  What society had established as the structure was the only structure and the emphasis was on the positions and how we perceived them rather than the relationships between.  You knew your place in the hierarchy and who you were expected to be.  Lots of these “conventional” families were happy and healthy, but when you looked beyond the required structure and the expectations, there was lots of dysfunction, too. 

Our understanding of family structures has been changing for some time now.  I’m going to say evolving and growing, because I believe that, but many still struggle to hold to the familiar system they know.  I think what makes the difference is respect for the relationship of individuals and awareness of the importance of everyone’s uniqueness in developing community.

In the church family, too. 

Jesus is all about relationships and about how we engage each other with respect and openness.  When Jesus talks about loving and caring, it’s not something you do to someone, but with someone.  Good stewardship is not about benevolent control over, but care with.  Peace and harmony isn’t about everyone being the same, but about respecting differences and engaging the richness of those differences.  This, of course, is the kind of church family we’d like to have.  But are we there yet?

We’re accustomed to hearing stories about Jesus that show us how important it is to love and care, about peace and unity.  But in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke we also hear Jesus saying that he comes to bring division, to pit father against son, son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother, essentially to divide a household.  Jesus challenges the “conventional” family of his day, saying that place and status need to be broken down when they aren’t working.  And they aren’t working in the synagogue, either.  Family is important, but family is about being in relationship.

“Unity in diversity” is a key theme in many churches, especially the United Church, and it could be a family motto.  But it has to be more than words.  To truly mean it, it must be the real family: one where people are able to love and respect difference as well as similarity, to learn from each other, to fight and then forgive, and to embrace and to recognize the time to part.  Yes, relationships change and sometimes have to end, but they can do so with respect and integrity.  New beginnings require an ending, new directions a change in the path.

He said what?

Have you played Trump or Jesus, yet?  If you go to trumporjesus.com, you can play an online quiz that offers you a series of quotes and you have to guess who said it, Donald Trump or Jesus.  You shouldn’t get anything less than a perfect score.

The point is to demonstrate how, despite the many Trump supporters who claim to be followers of Jesus, the things that he says are just completely the opposite of Jesus.  Like I said, you should not get anything less than a perfect score.

You better not get anything less than a perfect score.

Jesus is all about love and peace, caring for others and loving your enemies, being humble and sharing what we have.  That’s the Jesus we know, right?  And I think we know where The Donald stands on those issues.

How about this one: “do you think I’m here to bring peace?  No, I bring division.  Houses will be divided, father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother … You look at the clouds or the wind and you use them to predict the weather.   But you see what is happening all around you and you don’t understand what’s really going on.”  Trump or Jesus?

Yeah, that’s Jesus.

Not something you might expect from the “Prince of Peace,” is it?  But there it is, in Luke 12:29-56 (that’s my paraphrase above).   Like something Trump says, you might be tempted to ignore it or set it aside with a disbelieving shake of your head as something that’s a little “off message.”   Not that fear mongering, conflict and an arrogant superiority aren’t part of Trump’s message, they are.  But that’s not Jesus.  So if we hold on to this and engage it as something said by the same person who lived and taught a radical way of love and peace and wholeness, what then could it mean?

First, let’s be clear about peace.  Jesus doesn’t bring the kind of peace that we might superficially understand as the absence of conflict.  I’d suggest that Jesus’ idea of peace would be a sense of God’s guiding presence in our lives.  Martin Luther King Jr. wasn’t the only person to suggest that “true peace is not merely the absence of tension: it is the presence of justice,” or something similar.  But I wonder if we don’t need more, like a mindset - and a “heartset” - that says there may be tension, division or conflict, but that we’d address it with love, respect, patience, and compassion, as well as justice.  In other words, what Jesus teaches that God intended.

Even the Prince of Peace cannot force us to live peaceably or ensure that every moment or situation would be peaceful.  We have a choice, each of us individually, as well as groups, countries, religions and cultures collectively.

Jesus knows that he brings division.  Not only because he challenges the existing structures of society and tries to break those that are hurtful, hierarchical and power driven.  Not only because he brings a message that some will hear and others may not.  But because he knows that, fundamentally, we will each hear that message with our own ears, think it through in our own minds and bear it in our own hearts.

And I don’t for a moment think that Jesus would prefer conformity and uniformity; one homogenous community where we all think, be and do the same.  No, I think Jesus is hoping for us to recognize that we’re different and engage those differences.  I think Jesus is hoping that we’ll look at the people and the world around us and finally begin to understand that division doesn’t have to be destructive.  If we could see every person, every creature, every thing in every moment for its unique place in creation and engage it with love and respect, just imagine the world that could be built.

Getting On Board?

Can I talk about “All Aboard the Ark!” for a minute?  Stick with me, it’ll be worth it.

“All Aboard the Ark!” was our children’s summer program at the church this year, just last week.  A big “thank you” to all the children, parents, helpers, supporters and leaders who had a part in making a great week.

We do one each year, for 5-12 year olds.  It’s a week, mornings only, with songs, stories crafts and games.  There’s a snack each day, of course, and a lunch on the last day.  There’s a theme for the week and this year it was the Noah’s Ark story (Genesis 6:9-9:17).

Sort of.

We didn’t really focus on the story itself so much as the ark.  Our idea was to wonder about how everyone got along, building the ark and spending all that time cooped up in conditions that weren’t really cruise ship worthy in order that they could make a new beginning for the world.

On Monday we introduced the story: God had decided that things hadn’t turned out the way God thought they would, so God, much like an artist with a painting that hadn’t turned out, decided to wash it all away.  At least, that’s how God described it to Noah when he asks Noah to help.  God wants Noah to build an ark to save two of every creature so that the world can start again, pretty much from scratch.  God even gets the animals to help Noah build the ark.  And we did.  The children got to be there favourite animal and we put together some big pieces of chloroplast (thanks Bryan!) and started building the ark.  Together.

On Tuesday, it rained.  In the story called “Water all around,” anyway, and the animals were worried.  They tried to find God and ask God to stop the rain, but only the fish, in the end, knew where God was: just like the water to the fish, God is all around us, always with us.

The Monday craft had been making rainsticks (a percussion instrument that simulates the sound of rain) so the kids could be part of the story.  Check out our Facebook page for a short video clip of them in action.

By Wednesday, we were on the ark and it was pretty crowded, as you might expect.  We talked about personal space, both our own and respecting other’s, with a story called “Personal Space Camp.”  Both the craft and the games included Tic-Tac-Toe, a game that’s all about individual spaces.

Thursday, with everyone respecting each others’ space, was an opportunity to learn about how we can be good neighbours.  So we talked about the Golden Rule, “do unto others as you would have them do to you,” with a story about a rabbit who wonders how to deal with his new neighbours, the otters.  Yes, it’s called “Do Unto Otters.”

When the ark ran aground on Friday, we had a story called “Water All Around,” in which the raven and the dove, the most plain of all the birds, are the only ones brave enough to go out in search of land.  When the dove can’t find her way back with the olive branch, all the other brightly coloured birds make a rainbow to show her where the ark is.  We sang “This little light of mine” and wondered about the amazing things that each of us can accomplish, both by ourselves and together, remembering that God is always with us.  Just like the fish knew.

It was a great week.  And thanks again to everyone who participated and helped out.

Here’s the thing.  When all was said and done and the week was over, I was sitting reading the news.  All I could think was how much I’d like to take everyone, from everywhere, and sit them down in the kids’ makeshift ark.  We’d read those stories and sing some songs and learn how we otter be getting along.  We’d learn about respecting each other and all that we can accomplish with our individual gifts and, together, fly a little higher and a little brighter over a new world.  It may be child-like, but it sure isn’t childish.

Our pretend ark was church pews, rope and big pieces of plastic.  But the world is an ark, too.  And, just like our week on the ark, we should build it together, know that God is always with us, live with respect, treat others as we’d like them to treat us, and we shouldn’t be afraid to live to the fullest.