I see good people

Who are your heroes? Why are they your heroes? What have they inspired in you?

Sure, we have people we might look up to because of a skill or gift that they have: an athlete, artist, soldier, tradesperson, maybe even a politician. (Could be. Maybe.) Someone with a gift we aspire to share. But what about the person? Who inspires you to be a better person? Who helps build family or community? Maybe it’s not one person, maybe it’s people. Or an event.

I wonder if we really think about that enough. 

The writer of the Letter to the Hebrews in the Bible did. In the eleventh chapter, they wrote about faith and gave a long list of examples of people of faith, people who’s lives and experiences demonstrated a faith that was life-giving, bold and forward thinking. They were witnesses to God being at work in the world. It reads a bit like it’s a test of your Bible knowledge and, to us today, some of the names might be a little dusty, maybe even unfamiliar. Their stories even more so. But to the first century audience of faithful Jews hearing this letter for the first time, I think it would have been a familiar list indeed.

And they weren’t just heroes with happy stories, of course. Inspiration can come from moments of hardship and suffering, too. Some it says, "suffered mocking and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were stoned to death, they were sawn in two, they were killed by the sword; they went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, persecuted, tormented" (Hebrews 11:36-37). Yikes. Many of them didn’t even see the real results of their faithfulness in their lifetime.

But, as unfamiliar and remote as some of those stories may be, it reminds me that we should pause for a moment and consider what examples of faith we might find around us, what people and events we see that bear witness to God being at work in our world, in love and grace, kindness and goodness. And how might they inspire us today, these people who  might be right in front of us or in the more recent past - our contemporaries.

What about all the heroes in your life?  Like the examples in Hebrews, some may have struggled as much as celebrated. Some may no longer be with us, in person. 

The author of the Letter to the Hebrews writes that "since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us" (Hebrews 12:1). How ironic that we think of having a "head in the clouds" as being someone who isn't really aware of their surroundings, someone who's off in a fantasy world of their own imagination. I'd challenge you to put your head in this cloud for a few minutes and think about who might be an example of faith for you, an example worth following.

Hang on, though, it's not as easy as it sounds. It requires some discernment. First, discerning what is truly an example of a faithful witness to God in the world (however you may know God) and second, how it might apply in your own life. After all, everyone's journey is uniquely their own.

So look both ways as you step out in this cloud: look back - look around you! - and see the examples of faith that are there; and look forward, on to your own journey.  

All in the Circle

One of our summer children’s programs this year featured stories with the theme of “rock.” This story for all ages, inspired by Genesis and The Lion King, reminds us that we are all connected, all equally a part of creation from the beginning. We need reminding.

In the beginning, the Bible says, there was nothing until God began creating. And then there was light and dark, day and night, land and water and air, trees and grass, animals for the land, fish for the sea and birds for the air and people who could enjoy the wonder and beauty of all that was. And in the Bible story, it says that it took six days. Six very busy days.

After God had created, on the seventh day God took a break and had a well deserved rest. On the eighth day, God called a meeting. God invited everyone to come to one place, a Great Big Rock that stuck out of the ground and they all gathered round it in a big circle and they called it the Great Big Rock.

All living things were there - Eve and Adam, the first humans, the animals, the insects, the fish even came into the rivers near the rock. The trees, the grass and the flowers all leaned in a little closer. Even the oceans came as a light rain on the edge of the circle, which meant that everyone got a refreshing shower because everyone was equal in the circle. 

And God told them that everyone belonged to everything the light touched and everything the light touched belonged to everyone.

A unicorn said “how can everything belong to everyone and everyone to everything?”

And everyone and everything looked at the unicorn.

“Shhh,” said a zebra, who secretly wished he had a horn like the unicorn, “God’s talking.”

And a bunch of monkeys all went “shh shh shh.”

But God said, “no, it’s good to ask questions and think about things for yourself. And that,” God said, looking right at the unicorn, “is a good question.”

“God’s pet,” mumbled a goat, who secretly found the unicorn’s sparkly-ness annoying. And a few other goats agreed and bleeted their support.

“Listen,” said God, “we are all connected. Through me, through creation, there is a power that ties us together. That power is love. When love is shared, we are all made better, we all grow, we all live, fully in every way. The love lives in each of you. I,” said God emphatically, “I live in you.”

All the animals made their respective noises as if they understood. But, in fact, they didn’t and they didn’t want God to be disappointed in them, so they said nothing. All except …

“Um, unicorn here again,” piped up the unicorn. “Cool, cool, cool. So what you’re saying is that all us animals, the fish, the birds, the reptiles and the humans, we need to be respectful of each others’ needs and care for each other then?”

God said “yes - and thanks for your question again,” because God knew that the others didn’t understand and the unicorn was the only one bold enough to ask. “But it’s more than that. It’s everything as well as everyone. All things are connected in me. I am in this rock where you stand. As long as you respect it and care for it, it will care for you.”

Everyone looked wisely at the Great Big Rock sticking out of the ground and nodded as if they understood. They all murmured their thanks to God and said “great, thanks God, we’ll take it from here” and they all tried to move closer to the Great Big Rock, hoping to feel its power for themselves.

All except that same unicorn. The unicorn said “wait a minute. How can we all be connected through that Great Big Rock? Guys! Hey guys, I don’t think God meant that Great Big Rock, I think God meant the Earth. I think the earth is the rock on which we stand. Guys?”

But everyone was too busy trying to get closer to the Great Big Rock. There was pushing and shoving and grunting and mooing and barking and growling and no one could hear the unicorn or God’s last words: “listen to the unicorn ….”

Suddenly the lion let out a great roar and all the others stepped back and were silent.

“Wait everyone!” said lion. He had heard the unicorn. “I think the unicorn is right. The unicorn is wise, and probably delicious, but most certainly wise: God didn’t mean this one rock, God meant the rock which is the earth that we live on, the world we live in. Everyone and everything exists in a delicate balance. That’s how we’re connected.”

Lion’s young cub ran up and sat next to him. “But dad, don’t we eat other animals, like the antelope?”

“Yes,” said lion, “but only what we need and then, when we die, our bodies feed the grass that those animals eat. It’s like that song, it’s The Circle of Life.”

“And God’s part of that?” said the young cub.

“You bet,” said lion. “Let’s ask the unicorn.”

And the lion looked for the unicorn, but couldn’t see them anywhere. Everyone looked for the unicorn, but they were gone. “Anyone seen the unicorn?” said lion.

“Unicorn?” said another lion, “I thought it was an antelope.”

Richer than you think

Then he told them a parable: “The land of a rich man produced abundantly.  And he thought to himself, ‘What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?’  Then he said, ‘I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods.  And I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’ But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.”  (Luke 12:16-21)

Are you rich?

I wonder how many people pass this parable by because they've reasoned out an adequate explanation of why it doesn't apply to them based on their answer to that question. I'm not rich at all, so I can give this one a miss. I'm not rich, I'm "well off." I'm not really rich, I'm saving for my retirement. Well, I think that’s a little more nuance than Jesus would have been familiar with. Times have changed since the first century. 

But that's not the point anyway. The question isn't about material wealth, of course, it's about spiritual health. And we should all want to answer that question with a resounding “yes! I am rich!”

So can you? That's what the parable asks us to consider. What really matters?

Being rich isn’t inherently bad. The “rich man” in this parable doesn't suffer from being rich. He suffers from greed. Greed is all about gathering to oneself more than you could possibly ever need our want. So let's start there.

Look how many times the rich man in the parable says “I.” Every action he takes, everything that seems important to him begins with "I." When he's that focused on himself, where is his relationship with the world around him? Or his relationship with God?

And what does he do with all that he has "produced abundantly?" What does he really need to "relax, eat, drink and be merry?" Now those are good questions. And a lot harder ones to answer in our consumer driven society.

Our desire to acquire "stuff" has skewed our sense of what we need. We are convinced to think from scarcity (we must have more) rather than abundance (look what we have already). Jesus invites us to think from abundance and to see that in relation to the world around us  Jesus asks us to consider what we have and how we can share it with others.

And that's not just about money or stuff.  It's about the greatest treasure of all: you. When you share yourself with others, the reward is far greater than any money, treat or toy.

The time for all of that, of course, is now. This moment. Share your abundance now, don’t save it. Share it now, share it extravagantly, share it with all the love in your heart. We’re all already rich. 

More than a name

Our annual summer children’s program was last week. This year, we called it Rock U and the theme was stories connected to, well, rock. That might not sound super interesting, but we used it to connect to our relationship with the earth and God, building (especially ourselves), story telling and rock music (there was a band) and we managed to get in a little Lion King, Bob the Builder and Emmet from the Lego Movie. And there are a lot of cool crafts you can do with rocks.

One of the days we retold the story of how Peter got his name. In Matthew 16:15-19, Jesus asks the disciples who people say he is and then who they, the disciples, say he is. Simon answers that he is the messiah and Jesus renames him Peter, which means “rock,” because he is the rock on which he will build. Our version had a little more detail…

We wanted to connect the story to the idea that we are all building our selves on the rock which is love, being created in the image of God, finding God in ourselves and living into the goodness of life. So Simon was feeling a little insecure, being just a fisherman, and like he didn’t always understand things as clearly or quickly as the others seemed to. But when the time comes to answer Jesus’ question “who do you think I am,” he just somehow knows the right answer and can’t help but blurt it out. Jesus, knowing that Simon was feeling insecure, congratulates him on his courage for speaking up and points out that, while he’s not perfect (no one is), he knows what’s true and will stand by it. We had Jesus relate this moment to the parable of the wise man who builds on rock, the foolish man on sand. Simon is definitely rock, so Jesus says he’s going to give him a nickname: Rocky.

Right now you’re doing what many of the kids did in the moment of hearing the story: wait, that’s not right, it’s Peter. Yes, it is, but bear with me.

Jesus wants to call him Rocky. But here’s how the ending went:

“Simon looked at Jesus, a little alarmed, ‘I don’t know, Jesus,’ he said, ‘that’s not a very, I don’t know, Hebrew sounding name. I mean, I like it, of course, but what if someone decides to write this story down and put it in, say, a book of important stories about you that people will read far into the future? Shouldn’t it be something a little more fancy or serious.

“‘Okay, okay,’ said Jesus, ‘I see your point.’ Though he secretly didn’t and fully intended to keep calling him Rocky as a nickname. ‘How about a name that means ‘rock’ that’s a little fancier: I will call you Peter.’”

Peter’s okay with that, of course. But, while the key part of the story was the “rock” image, what it means and how that might be conveyed to children, I think it does open up an avenue we don’t explore nearly enough.

The Bible is holy and sacred. Yes. And, for many that holiness and sacredness may best be reflected in the dignity and beauty of the King James Version or, perhaps, a more accurate translation that more closely respects the most ancient texts we have available. For understanding, some people may prefer a more contemporary language version like The Message, but still we insist that it maintain the dignity of a sacred and holy text.

Except it shouldn’t be style and language that make them holy and sacred. It should be heart and spirit. The gospels are stories of a very down to earth Jesus who did his best to connect with people where and how they were. His followers were ordinary, everyday people who were inspired to do extraordinary things by the relationship they had with Jesus. In fact, Jesus, while being a respectful Jew, goes out of his way to question the holy and sacred rituals that had become meaningless for anything other than show. He questions the pharisees and the leaders of the Temple and reminds people to not be like them, not to be all for show, but instead to be for what’s heartfelt and soulful. He reached out to the sinners, the broken and hurting. He sat with the marginalized and the ordinary, not the holy and the “holier than thou.” Maybe, every now and then, it’s a good idea to get down there with Jesus and tell the story a little less holy and a little more real, a little less like it’s the words that make it sacred and more like it’s how we live the word that does that.

Maybe, if then were now, he might have called Simon “Rocky.” Or maybe even The Rock. It worked for Dwayne Johnson.

What you don't need

Do you have a basic “essentials” list of things you have to have with you when you go out the door? Your phone, of course, a wallet (or at least a debit card or some cash, maybe a driver’s license), keys, maybe a hat or coat, maybe a watch or a ring. Maybe it’s dependent on where you’re going or how, or even the weather. You want to be prepared, right?

Of course you do. And, while there may be things that we feel are essential, we might add to it, depending on where our journey is taking us today. Plan ahead for what’s expected. Or even unexpected.

No matter how few or many those things are, the point is that we bring what we need to feel prepared. It makes sense.

So imagine the surprise of the seventy followers that Jesus sends on ahead of him to spread the Good News and let people know he’s coming, when he tells them not to bring hardly anything at all. Go in pairs and “carry no purse, no bag, no sandals” and, wherever you go, “remain in the same house, eating and drinking whatever they provide, for the labourer deserves to be paid” (Luke 10:4, 7). Tell them two things: offer “peace to this house” and tell them the kingdom of God has come near. It’ll be like being lambs among wolves, Jesus says, but if you’re not welcomed, just shake the dust of the town off your feet and move on.

The “seventy” are only in Luke, but earlier in Luke and in Matthew and Mark there are similar accounts of Jesus sending the chosen twelve the same way. “Take nothing for your journey, no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money—not even an extra tunic” (Luke 9:3).

Maybe Jesus has a different perspective.

We think in terms of what we need for what we might expect. Maybe Jesus is thinking in terms of what you need to let go of in order to be open to the possibility of what might happen.

Offer peace and the news that the kingdom of God is near. That’s enough. Let go of what you think the response should be or might be or how you could make it what you want. Let go of your preconceived ideas about the people, the places, the message even. Let go of how you think you could dress the message up or how “best” to present it. Don’t anticipate, simply engage. And don’t be afraid.

Because the message isn’t all you have. You have you, and that’s something worth sharing. You also have backup: the seventy were in pairs and we have each other. You also have the opportunity for hospitality that your openness invites. In that moment of engagement without anticipation or expectation, that’s where God can be found. That’s where love is at work.

Inside Out

Jesus isn’t easy.

I don’t know how many times I’ve said that so I’m just going to say, “ a lot.” Jesus isn’t easy. It can certainly be easy to say “I’m a follower of Jesus” or, even easier, “I’m a Christian,” but living it isn’t easy.

It’s both one of the reasons that churches - and churchgoers - can be so readily accused of hypocritical behaviour and why so many people don’t want to be a follower of Jesus. The first one’s too easy and the second one’s too hard. Let me unpack that a bit, because they’re related.

The legacy of christians behaving badly is astonishing. Yes, it is. So is the legacy of christians truly being Jesus. Thanks, I think we all know that, Captain Obvious.

We’re all human beings on a journey and no one’s perfect in this life (that’s for the next one). We come into this life created in the image of God and then life experience helps make us the human beings we are. Sometimes we grow, sometimes we struggle, sometimes we succeed, sometimes we fail, sometimes we do the right thing, sometimes we don’t. And because we’re human beings preaching good news of the divine, sometimes the behaviour doesn’t reflect the story we want to share. Sometimes we’re sorry and ask forgiveness, sometimes we’re not sorry and need it even more.

That doesn’t make the bad stuff okay. It makes it part of the struggle. Especially when we hold up Jesus as the perfection that we can achieve.

First of all - and don’t stone me for this - Jesus isn’t perfect. If Jesus is “the Word made flesh” (John 1:14) or “Immanuel, which means God is with us” (Matt. 1:23), if we understand Jesus as the incarnation of the love which we know is God, then Jesus is divine and human. We might not fully understand the divine, but we’re intimately acquainted with the human and all its potential flaws. Even in the stories we have - and remember, we don’t have every moment of Jesus’ life - there are examples of Jesus being very human, indeed.

Secondly, Jesus never asked or expected you or me or anyone else to be perfect, not in this life. That expectation we put on ourselves and then used it as a means to judge failure or to simply not try. It’s no wonder people find it hard to behave the way Jesus teaches.

But that’s just the point. It isn’t about outward behaviour, it’s about inner heart. It can’t just be words, but it also can’t just be action, either. Both must spring from the heart. And that’s where Jesus hopes transformation will happen. Not that we’ll behave right, but that we’ll live right, reflecting the image of God that’s in our heart in our mind and actions also, loving each other because there is love in our hearts.

In Luke, there’s a little vignette that begins Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem and his eventual death. It begins with the disciples telling Jesus that a Samaritan town wasn’t interested in him coming there. That shouldn’t be a surprise, since Jews and Samaritans were enemies, but two of the disciples ask Jesus if they should “command fire to come down from heaven and consume them” (Luke 9:54). Of course Jesus rebukes them. As the journey continues, they meet someone who says they’ll follow Jesus wherever he goes and Jesus replies that, unlike a fox or a bird, he has no home to go to. The next person he asks to follow with them says they have to bury their deceased father first. Jesus says let the dead bury their own, you should proclaim the kingdom of God. And then another says they’ll follow Jesus, but have to say farewell to their family first. Jesus says you can’t blow a straight furrow if you’re looking back.

Ok, what? That all seems rather random and dismissive.

Maybe it is if you think about the behaviour here: the disciples want to punish, even destroy, people who reject Jesus and he says no, but then Jesus seems to challenge the desire and the priorities of those who say they would follow Jesus. Which is it, Jesus?

But I don’t think Jesus was an either/or kind of teacher, I think he was a with/and. What this is all about isn’t behaviour, it’s heart. It’s what’s at the centre of your life. When it’s love, you won’t find anger or fear or retaliation when people disagree with you or are different from you. When it’s love, you’ll be open to wherever this journey takes you and not be afraid, knowing that there’s meaning to the ancient proverb - and modern cliche - home is where the heart is. When it’s love, death is a passing but it’s not the end, and our rituals or even our daily living are only meaningful if they speak to, and from, the heart. When it’s love, the way is always forward, always growing towards the moment when the burdens of this life are let go and there is only what is in our hearts: love.

A Story Worth Sharing

Have you ever seen or met someone possessed by demons?

Yeah. You have.

“Possessed by demons” or “having an unclean spirit” may be the biblical language, but whatever language you use, we’ve encountered them, even experienced them.

Historically, we personified or anthropomorphized anything dark, malevolent or evil as a demon - I just did by saying “them” - though the word didn’t specifically mean that. All evils were associated with The Devil and most likely sprang from Hell. That gave us an opportunity to say that the characteristics and behaviours associated with it weren’t us - it was a demon possessing us or acting through us.

Cynically, that might sound like an excuse, both for the behaviour and how we respond to it. But I can’t argue with it. I believe that we’re created in the image of God and that’s love. Anything that isn’t that, well, it could be a demon.

No, my issue isn’t with the language, it’s how we use it. I don’t believe in demonic possession in the whole “hell-spawn of satan” way we’ve historically used it. I think we defaulted to that thinking because of religious beliefs and systems trying to explain things we didn’t understand. We didn’t have enough knowledge to know any different. As we grow, we think, we learn and we become more aware.

The demons that challenge us and take over our lives could be serious mental illness or a disability. It could be post-traumatic stress related and the result of experience, even the result of something we learned or how we learned it. Sometimes, we may even label something we just don’t understand as a demon.

The reason I think we need to spend more time thinking about that is because it’s what’s going to determine our response. 

In the Bible, there’s a story of Jesus casting demons out of a man and into a herd of pigs. Some version of the story appears in the gospels of Mathew, Mark and Luke, but it’s Luke’s version I like best.

We’ve always described it as a story of healing. Jesus meets a man, possessed by so many demons they call themselves “Legion.” His community locked him away, at first, but he escaped and they abandoned him to a place he would be alone. Knowing who Jesus is, Legion asks to be sent from the man into a nearby herd of pigs. The possessed pigs then run into the lake and drown themselves. Seeing the man free of his possession and hearing the story of how it happened, the people are afraid and ask Jesus to leave. The man asks to go with Jesus, but Jesus tells him to stay and share his story.

We tend to focus on the moment: Jesus heals the man. Or, let me say that a little differently: the power of Jesus relieves the man of his demons. Notice, by the way, that the demons aren’t simply gone, they go into the pigs causing their death. I wonder if this isn’t a reminder that healing isn’t always easy and clean. Sometimes it comes at a cost. I wonder.

But let’s look beyond that for a moment. Let’s look at the townspeople. At first, their response to the man’s “demons” was to lock him away. Then, when he broke free, they let him go somewhere he could be alone and not bother anyone. Out of sight, where they would’t have to encounter him. Along comes Jesus and he is healed. Do the townspeople celebrate, joyfully embrace the man and thank Jesus? No. They’re afraid and ask Jesus to leave.

That’s not the end of the story. For the townspeople, it might just be the beginning. They’re still broken and afraid, not just of the demons, but of the power that healed them. So Jesus tells the healed man to stay and share his story, the story of his own brokenness and healing, his encounter with Jesus and his experience of God. In sharing that story, others might come to understand both the presence of real “demons” in our lives and the power of Jesus to engage them. In hearing that story, they might know that the power of Jesus is love and learn connection, understanding and relationship. In being that story, they might find true community, the “common unity” of engaging the unique, diverse, frail, sometimes broken, sometimes fearful hearts that are in all of us.