Thursday, 3 December 2020

Everyone has a place in The Story

In the weeks of Advent, leading up to Christmas, we meet some of the characters of the Christmas Story. The angel Gabriel (who really should have appeared nine months ago), Mary, Joseph, we’ll meet other angels, shepherds, an innkeeper, maybe even the magi (they seem to arrive earlier every year) and, of course, John the Baptist.


John the Baptist?


Yes, John the Baptist. He usually appears on the second Sunday of Advent. He became known for the baptizing thing, but he was meant to be a messenger, “the” messenger, a voice from the wilderness crying “prepare the way of the Lord.”


Well, of course, that makes sense. Announcing Jesus’ arrival. So he was also at the manger then? Well, no.


When Mary put Jesus to bed in the manger, John’s parents, Elizabeth and Zechariah, were likely changing his diaper and putting him to bed in his own crib. According to Luke, John and Jesus were cousins and born only months apart. John was older, but not by much.


The John we meet in Advent is an adult. He’s been living in the wilderness, “was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey” (Mark 1:6). He calls people to repent (loudly and not always nicely), his signature move is baptism and he tells everyone that someone much greater is coming. “I have baptized you with water,” he says, “but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” John the Evangelist, who wrote the gospel, even tells a story of him pointing out Jesus to a couple of his own disciples, saying “there’s the guy I’m talking about.”


Well that seems a little out of sync, at least chronologically. Why do we need the adult John to tell us who the adult Jesus is right before he’s born? Here’s a few thoughts on why you should listen to John.


I don’t know that the adult John knew he was doing that. I think he was calling people to repent and be baptized because someone was coming, he doesn’t seem to know who or when. As far as he was concerned, he might well have been announcing a birth. John was probably ready to meet Jesus anytime.


Christmas doesn’t just mark an event of the past by celebrating it in the present. It reminds us also that Jesus promised to return. And, just as importantly, that we might be prepared to meet Jesus anytime. What if Jesus never really left? What if Jesus is alive in each of us and we might meet Jesus anytime, anywhere?


Maybe that’s the most important thing about John. He reminds us to be prepared to meet Jesus, in child and in adult, in story and in person, in friend and in stranger, in this moment and in tomorrow. Be prepared to meet Jesus anytime, anywhere. Because you will.


And just like Jesus, be prepared for the figures that point you towards him, that help and guide you on your way, to not necessarily look like you think they should. The Christmas Story is full of angels. What if they didn’t look like our traditional vision of an angel, with white robe, wings and halo? What if they all looked like John the Baptist? Or someone we might call “less desirable?” What if they looked like you and me? Are you prepared for that?

Thursday, 26 November 2020

“I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes” (from the 1993 classic "The Sign" by Ace of Base)

In the weeks leading up to Advent, many churches will be hearing stories from the gospels about “the end times.” Not from the Book of Revelation, but from the gospels. This is Jesus talking about the end of things and, more importantly, that he’ll return. That’s why we’re hearing these stories. Jesus promised to return. So the season of Advent isn’t just the season of expectation leading to the day we recognize Jesus’ arrival in the distant past, but his coming this year and his expected return in the future.


We might also want to consider that he never left and that the point of Jesus is to show us the Jesus in each of us, that we may “see Jesus” always in ourselves and each other. Jesus is here everyday, not just Christmas Day. Something, I think, worth pondering.


But let’s talk about these stories of the end times and Jesus’ return as he describes it for his first century audience in the gospels. There’s destruction and death, wars and famine and earthquakes, great “distress” and “tribulation” and false prophets and people claiming to be the messiah.


Maybe it’s because we just finished a group study at the church on Revelation or maybe it’s because of the days we’re living, but I feel like there should be some plagues in there, maybe fires, hurricanes and murder hornets and civil strife, too. 2020 has sure been the year for that.


That’s another good reason to hear these stories. I don’t think the point of them is to scare people, though they’ve certainly been used that way. It’s that these are the signs, Jesus says, of what is to come next: “at that time people will see the Son of Man coming in clouds with great power and glory” (Mark 13:26). So, Jesus says through all this, keep watch, be discerning, be prepared, keep awake.


The last few weeks, I’ve been talking about what Jesus meant by all that, emphasizing that he doesn’t mean just sitting around waiting, but rather living, with love, compassion, justice and grace, just as he showed us we could. So, maybe we could have a break now that Advent’s here. Well. No.


But there is something more. Each of Mark, Matthew and Luke, in the middle of all this distressing stuff, have Jesus use the fig tree as an example of how we should see what’s happening. When you see buds on the fig tree, he says, you know that summer is near. It’s a sign. Read the signs and you’ll see that the time is near.


Yes, of course. When we see buds in the spring, we know that summer’s coming (eventually), though you might not pinpoint the exact day. But it’s not just the new season that’s coming, it’s the new life. And. It’s the fruit.


That’s just it. Even now, we might look and see signs that the world is changing, but are we seeing the signs of death and destruction or the signs of new life? It’s the buds that bring the flowers that bear the fruit in the new season. Isn’t it the acts of love, kindness and caring that will bear the fruit of the future? Where do you see the promise of new life where you’re at?

Thursday, 19 November 2020

It's about life, not afterlife

I try to be consistent. As much as one can be in such a diverse and complicated world. But I try to be consistent, especially in what I share about what I believe Jesus is about.


Jesus is about life. Yes, Jesus provides comfort about where we’re going next, but the life of Jesus isn’t about what it takes to get to the kingdom of God, it’s about what it takes to bring it here. That’s a life lived in love with the world. That’s a life lived like Jesus.


But I’m not Jesus, you might say. No, in the sense that you’re not me and I’m not you, but yes you are, in the sense that we are both divine (created in the image of God) and human (created of the earth), just like Jesus. I think that’s the main point of Jesus, that his life shows us that’s what we are and how to live it out.


But what about evil and the devil and hell and all that stuff? Sure, we find ways to try and understand what isn’t love or grace or heaven, because we have experiences and make choices that aren’t and we live in a world where, while we’d really like it to be simple and just what we want, it’s not and it’s full of other people and other things. And we can see those as “other” or we can see them as relationships we just haven’t explored yet, or lived yet. We can see them as an obstacle to overcome or part of the journey that is a full life. And, oh, that’s a struggle. Believe me, I know that’s a struggle. 


But what about judgement? Even Jesus talks about how, at the end of days, we’ll all be judged and some will go to the happy place and others to fiery furnace. Ok, but let me say three things about that. One is that, though we seem to like to do it and do it a lot, Jesus - and scripture as a whole - constantly reminds us that the ultimate judge is God, not you and me. The second is that God begins with grace and offers forgiveness. I do believe that we come from God and we return to God. And, I understand hell as meaning how sin distances us from God. In other words, we may be very far from God in this life, but we still return to God.


Third, let’s talk about sheep and goats for a minute. Despite number one above, we still see the need for judgement and yes, Jesus talks about it. But perhaps we hear that with ears listening for where we might be going next rather than consequences in this life. Take, for example, the story Jesus tells about how judgement will be like a shepherd separating the sheep and the goats (Matt.25:31-46). Already you might be thinking you want to be a sheep. You do, because the sheep feed the hungry, welcome the stranger, care for the sick and the imprisoned and therefore “come, you that are blessed by my father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.” The goats don’t and are consigned to the eternal fire. So, do like the sheep and you’ll get to the happy place. Right?


Ok. Except. Neither the sheep or the goats in the story are aware that what they’re doing or not doing is for Jesus. The sheep aren’t doing it to earn anything, they’re just being themselves. It’s already in them - and maybe it’s in the goats, too. We’re all God’s creation. The difference is the sheep engaged the world, saw the need, and shared in it. That’s what Jesus is all about. Love, grace and compassion aren’t behaviours you use to get points to go to the happy place. They’re who you are. Look in you, look around you, and bring life to this world by living them.

Thursday, 12 November 2020

And Now This

I know I say it a lot, but I just don’t think Jesus is an either/or kind of guy. I think Jesus is an and/with person.


Person. I know, here I am again treating Jesus like, well, one of us. Like a friend or a neighbour, even, rather than with the reverence due Christ, the “Word made flesh.” But imagine, just for a minute, that I’m not making Jesus less divine but rather pointing out the divinity in the human characteristic I just mentioned.


Our freedom to choose often leads us to see things in opposition rather than in harmony, as set against one another rather than in cooperation, exclusive rather than inclusive. Either/or versus and/with. Just look at the world. See how much of life seems to be a contest of this side versus that side to see who will have the power to get their way. But we’re all children of God - of God and of creation. We’re connected to the earth and each other. Our very being is literally an “and/with.”


That’s big. Huge even. Especially right now, when we find ourselves struggling to stay connected in a pandemic that keeps us apart. Or in a world of politics that keeps us apart. Or finances. Or cultures. The list is long.


And here’s Jesus, showing us how to live out the human and divine in each of us. Showing us how we can love, have empathy and compassion, live each day offering grace and understanding, engage the world and build relationships and create community. Along with his example, Jesus offers some teaching, words of comfort and encouragement, and a lot of stories.


Especially with the stories, it can be easy to say it means this or that. We can debate and argue about historical context and definitive interpretations and insist that we have the “correct” understanding. But maybe the story has more than one meaning. Maybe different interpretations aren’t about the right one, but the harmony of many speaking together to different times and different people. If the understanding leads to wisdom and love, if it creates and inspires one to live well, maybe we should rethink our sense of correctness.


Here’s an example. Jesus tells a story about a man who has to leave town, so he entrusts his servants with the care of his finances. To one he gives five talents (that’s a huge amount of money, not a skill), another three, another one, “each according to their ability.” While he’s gone, the first two invest theirs and make more, while the third hides his single talent. When he returns, the man congratulates and rewards the first two. Hearing the third explain that he was afraid because the man was a harsh and unscrupulous businessman and that’s why he hid the talent and is returning only that one, he throws him out with nothing.


Jesus tells this story in the context of talking about being prepared for the end times. So is this a reminder that, while awaiting his return, being prepared means building upon what God has given us (financially and otherwise)? It makes for a good stewardship story. It could be a reminder to not be afraid to use what we have, to invest and expand it. Perhaps the ending doesn’t sound quite like the Jesus we know, so we might consider that, while the third servant is cast out, it’s those very people - the outcast, the marginalized and the broken - to whom Jesus comes. Perhaps it’s part of the journey. What about the third servant’s fear? Can we empathize with that? Maybe Jesus isn’t the rich man at all, maybe he’s the third servant and it’s not about fearing the rich man but challenging his methods. Perhaps it’s not just about investing in the future, but living well in the moment. Perhaps it’s a reminder of the inequities of our world we live in and that they must be changed.


Perhaps it’s not one single thing, but how they all interact - it’s not just one thread, but the fabric it weaves. As we engage different perspectives, we might see they’re not exclusive: they can work together to teach us on our own journeys. 

Thursday, 5 November 2020

Waiting and Ready

We do a lot of waiting. Just generally, in life we do a lot of waiting. But lately, it’s been particularly tough waiting. As the pandemic drags on, we’re waiting, not even for it to end anymore, but for the next announcement of case numbers, the next change in guidelines, the next closure or the next much needed support program. We’re waiting for test results - of all kinds - waiting for programs to come back, waiting for jobs. We’re waiting for election results. We’re waiting for peace. We’re waiting for news, good and bad.


We’re waiting for Jesus.


And that’s not your general waiting. We might be waiting for Jesus because Christmas is coming. We might be waiting for Jesus because, just like the earliest followers of Jesus, we heard him say he’d be back and when he did it’d be the end times and judgement and death and destruction and only the righteous (like us, we hope) will be saved. We might be waiting for the next moment we see Jesus alive and at work in the world, in each other and in ourselves. We might be waiting for Jesus because we just really feel the need for Jesus right now (please read previous sentence again - and again).


In Matthew, when Jesus talked about  “coming back” in the days just before he was arrested, he talked to the disciples about waiting and being prepared for his return. He told this story. He said there were ten bridesmaids, waiting for the groom to come to the wedding banquet. Five were wise because they brought additional oil for their lamps, while five were foolish because they only had what was in their lamps. The groom is delayed and everyone goes to sleep, only to be awakened at midnight with the warning that the groom was coming. The foolish were out of oil and asked the wise to give them some. The wise said no because there wasn’t enough for everyone and sent the other five off to find more. While they’re gone, the groom arrives, the party starts and when the others return, they find themselves locked out. The groom says they don’t even know them. “Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.”


So. Be prepared. That’s how we’ve interpreted this story. The wise are prepared and are the ones who get to the party with Jesus, the bridegroom.


But what does that mean? How should we be prepared? What’s the oil in our lamps today? And how might that help us when we’re waiting for all those other things?


What if this wasn’t a story about being prepared in the future, but rather about what is right now. We admire those who have much over those with little. And when those with little are in need, we don’t always share equitably. No, maybe there’s not enough oil for everyone, but if we shared, we’d share the time in the darkness as well as the light. We send people away and find a reason to exclude them. Worst of all, the groom - who could easily be us - seems to be apathetic to the situation (which they caused by being late) and okay with excluding people. What if this isn’t the example of how to be prepared, but the opposite?


Maybe the “how to be prepared” isn’t a couple of paragraphs near the end, but the entirety of the life lived before it. Maybe the best way to “keep awake” and “be prepared” is to share equitably, support each other, include everyone, build relationships, be empathetic and compassionate. And maybe even be on time. Or at least true to the good that is in us.


Don’t just sit around waiting. Be Jesus. Live.

Thursday, 29 October 2020

For all the Saints

November 1 is All Saints Day in many churches. Unfortunately, you might miss it because it’s overshadowed by its much more popular and entertaining neighbour Hallowe’en. Ironic really, because Hallowe’en literally means All Hallows Eve or “the day before All Saints Day.”


I don’t begrudge Hallowe’en its popularity, though. It’s fun, engaging and an opportunity to dress up and pretend to be someone or something you’re not. And, while I know things can get out of hand (especially with the “trick” part of “trick or treat”) and we can be a little superstitious, I just don’t think there’s really anything in the evil or satanic stories we tell around it. Sure, some of its history is pagan traditions and the notion that this is a time when the veil between this world and the next is thin, but that’s all tied to our connection to the earth, seasons changing, fertility and life and death. We’re part of the earth and divine, after all.


Of course, throw in a full moon this year (a Blue Moon, the second full moon this month) and that can get people going, especially with the year we’ve had so far. But then, the clocks go back an hour, too, so maybe it’s just a reset.


Let’s go back to that “pretend to be someone you’re not” idea though, because I think that’s something to think about the next day, All Saints Day. While I think we’ve always had the best of intentions when it comes to saints, I wonder if we haven’t made them something so special and unique that they’re unreachable, untouchable and certainly something unattainable. We want them to inspire us and be an example for us, but it seems, instead, that we’ve put them up on a pedestal, cast them in stone or stained glass, named churches after them and put them out of reach. We make them something we’re not and will never be. Just like Jesus, they’re out of our league.


But they’re not. They’re you and me. I think they’re just flawed and broken human beings who discovered they were perfect just as they are and, in discovering that, found their connection to both the divine spirit and the earth that’s in them. They found good. They found grace, kindness, compassion and love and - and here’s the important part - lived it. That’s what makes them an example, not an idol.


Mark Isleifson reminded me about this the other day. Another one of our local acting legends, Mark was in the Bashaw Community Theatre production of ‘Hunchback of Notre Dame’ a few years ago and he played St. Aphrodisius, a real first century saint. In the story, he’s long dead, of course, but immortalized in a stained glass window in the great cathedral. As the hunchback Quasimodo is trying to figure out a clue to where he’d find his beloved Esmerelda, St. Aphrodisius comes alive, steps out of his stained glass window and sings to Quasimodo, telling his story and inspiring him to figure out what the clue means. The great saint steps down from where we put him away and engages the lowly Quasimodo. Good, kindly hearts make a connection.


That’s what saints do. They make a connection that inspires good. Don’t have to be on a pedestal or a throne, a mountain top or a seat of power. They could be someone you think you should avoid or someone you might not even notice. They could be you.

Thursday, 22 October 2020

Please think about this

Sure, it would be nice if Jesus made more clear and concise theological statements. I guess. Although, I suspect we’d probably just argue more about what they mean. There are so many “authoritative interpretations” announced as “the right one” that it’s hard to know what to think sometimes.


So you probably should. Think about it. Really think about it.


That said, there’s lots to think about and lots of information and interpretations to consider. There’s also lots of people who are happy to tell you “the facts” and separate “the facts” from “the myths” (which are apparently bad) and, with the right delivery, their words carry a lot of weight.


It seems like all you have to do is hold up the right book and somehow it makes what you have to say “the truth.”


I think that’s why the stories need to speak just as loudly as the statements. And they need to speak to you. Please don’t let anyone “tell you how it is” unless they begin with “here’s what I think, please think about this.” And please consider their actions, too, when, assessing what they offer.


So. Please think about this.


Each of Matthew, Mark and Luke have stories of Jesus addressing which is the greatest commandment. Matthew, in particular, places it in the context of the leaders of the Temple asking Jesus questions, hoping to trap him with an answer they can use against him. Again, they seem more concerned with his words than anything else. So, in the story, this is their final question: which is the greatest commandment in the law?


That might seem tricky, there being not just the ten we’re most familiar with, but also another more than six hundred. But Jesus answers right away: love God with all your heart, soul and mind. And love your neighbour as you love yourself.


The first would likely have satisfied them, but there’s Jesus, always with the “and.” As if there’s always more. Because there is.


We’re often quick to point out that the “love” Jesus means is the unconditional, grace-filled, compassion-filled, life-giving love of God. There’s different kinds of love, of course, and we don’t want to complicate things with physical love, emotions, kinship, family, other things. This is the divine, transcendent love of God. Which is a really convenient way of holding it at arms length and making it something impossible for us to achieve. So. Please think about this: I think Jesus means all love. It’s not something to put on a pedestal and wonder at, it’s something to hold close and share generously, be amazed it and wrestle with. Love is love. It’s heart, mind and soul.


And that’s another thing. It’s in you and around you. It’s heart, soul and mind. It begins your relationship with God, with yourself and your neighbour. I’ll just say that again, so please think about this: it begins. It begins life. It begins relationship.


That’s what makes it the real test. Questions, statements, words, they’re not as challenging as love. That’s why we didn’t get more words from God, we got Jesus. Living, breathing love from the beginning. Want to know how to do love? Be Jesus.