Thursday, 17 June 2021

What if there's another perspective?

When the pandemic started, there was a saying going around, a cliché that goes “we’re all in the same boat.” Except we’re not, and it wasn’t long before someone pointed out that’s not true. It’s often attributed to a tweet from Damien Barr that’s part of a longer poem, but the popular social media meme became “we are not all in the same boat. We are all in the same storm.”


I wonder if Jesus’ disciples were thinking of that when they got stuck in a storm on the Sea of Galilee. In Mark’s account, Jesus had been talking to a crowd of people and, that evening, he gets in a boat with the disciples to cross to the other side of the lake. And there are other boats that follow with them. Tired from a long day, Jesus is asleep when the storm comes up. Fearing for their lives, the disciples wake him, he calms the storm and then says to them “why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?” And the disciples are amazed and wonder just who this is, that the wind and sea do what he says.


Yes, we appreciate this is a miracle story in which Jesus demonstrates his power. The disciples ask for help and Jesus rescues them. And maybe there’s another way of understanding that power, another perspective on the story.


Some of Jesus disciples are professional fishermen, this is the lake they fish. They might well have been afraid, but they would have known what to do. What if they woke Jesus because they needed help, but the help they expected was an extra pair of hands.


What if Jesus inspired them with his energy and enthusiasm and, despite his lack of skill with a boat, inspired them to ride the waves and harness the storm to drive forward for the shore on the other side.


What if their lack of faith was in themselves. Not just in their human abilities, but in the divine spirit that Jesus shows us in each of us.


What if their amazement was that Jesus, in any situation, seems to be mindful of what’s happening, what’s needed and is willing to do that.


What if the real power in this miracle isn’t Jesus’ power over nature, but Jesus’ power with the disciples to draw out the spirit within them, the very spirit that is part of our human nature, the spirit that drives our journey.


What if the people in the other boats witnessed that and followed their example, a flotilla of diverse lives navigating their own course, but empowered by the same spirit.


Isn’t that what we are?


I don’t think that “explains away” the miracle. It’s no less a miracle to know that God is present in our lives because God is within us, not just outside of us. It’s no less a miracle to see God leading us and guiding us, working within us and around us, rather than as some remote, inaccessible power that we call upon when we need. It’s no less a miracle to see this happening every day, whether the seas are rough or calm, the wind a gale or a breeze. It’s no less a miracle, it’s more. 

Thursday, 10 June 2021

Bringing the Kingdom with Wonder

As they set out on their quest to rescue a princess, Shrek tries to explain to Donkey that ogres aren’t what people think. They’re like onions, he says, they have layers. Not at all impressed, Donkey points out that cakes have layers and so do parfaits and they’re so much more delicious. No, says Shrek, onions.


Jesus tells a lot of stories that are like that. Not ogres, exactly, but certainly onions. Parables are layered stories and it’s very easy to just look at the surface meaning, but there’s so much more. I think Jesus taught in parables so much because of exactly that: they’re not just to make a simple point, but to make you think, to wonder more, to look deeper.


The parable of the mustard seed’s a great example. Sure, it’s a simple story about how a tiny thing can grow into something great. That much is obvious. But that’s not the only layer. And there are many layers, of course there are, because Jesus is talking about the kingdom of God.


In the gospel of Mark, Jesus begins his ministry by proclaiming the kingdom of God is near. Then, as he travels around, he teaches people with these parables that begin “the kingdom of God is like …” And that’s how the mustard seed parable begins.


So the kingdom of God is something that starts as just a tiny seed and grows into something big, the biggest even. Sure. Layer #1. But. Here’s some more.


Layer #2: What’s the seed? Who plants it? Why? How- exactly - does it grow?


Layer #3: Why a mustard seed? It’s not the smallest of seeds, as he tells folks, it doesn’t grow into the greatest of shrubs with large branches, and birds would likely avoid it - why are you telling people that, Jesus?  Also, to most of his audience, mustard would be known as a virulent and noxious weed that’s hard to get rid of. Does Jesus not know anything about mustard? Why offer this incorrect information? Is the kingdom of God like a weed?


Layer #4: We might see “mustard” quite differently today. While wild mustard is still a serious weed problem, we also cultivate it as a spice, an oil and for it’s edible greens. Depends on your perspective: problem weed or beneficial plant?


That’s lots to think about already. And theologians and biblical scholars have lots to say about it, lots that’s valuable and helpful and we can always learn more. But: Jesus didn’t tell the parable for scholars, he told it for ordinary people. Mark makes that clear: Jesus taught the people in parables and explained in more detail to his disciples.


No, I don’t think for a moment that Jesus kept “secret knowledge” just for his closest followers, nor do I think it’s to justify the need for priests - or pharisees, scribes or other “knowledgable” religious leaders. It’s so we, ordinary people, will think about it. We might look to others for help, for their knowledge and wisdom, but we’ll still think about it for ourselves, be discerning and try to find our way through the layers and closer to the kingdom of God.


That’s the point. Jesus never clearly defines or describes the kingdom of God. Instead, he offers us a living example and a way to discover for ourselves. We each have a journey to travel and it’s best when we travel together, but it begins with peeling back the first layer.

Thursday, 3 June 2021

"I wanna live like that"

For me, I think the big picture with Jesus is all about love. That verse from John that I keep repeating, “love one another as I have loved you,” is what Jesus is all about, in the big picture. The stories of his life are what illuminate that and teach us that we, too, are both divine spirit and human creation, made in the same love that is in Jesus, and capable of living that love like Jesus. That’s the point of Jesus.


It bears repeating, I think. However you know God, by whatever name, God is love. However you know Jesus, by whatever name, Jesus shows us that love is in us. However you know Spirit, by whatever name, the Spirit moves in us and through us to live that love. Yes, there’s more to it than that, that’s in the details, but, ultimately, it’s about love and love wins. Not easily, but ultimately.


We’ve struggled with love since the beginning. There’s so much that gets in the way, so many ways that seem easier, more instantly rewarding. Despite being an awesome song by the Sidewalk Prophets, “I wanna live like that” isn’t always our first inclination. In fact, we can go quite far the other way in order not to, sometimes even proclaiming that “our way” is The Way. If it’s not love, it’s not. It just isn’t. And even for the earliest followers of Jesus, who called themselves “People of The Way,” it wasn’t easy to follow through.

 

Paul writes to the community in Corinth about it. “Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.” (1 Cor. 13:4-8)


If those words are familiar, it may be because you’ve heard them at a wedding. 1 Corinthians 13 is the “go to” scripture reading, at least with church weddings. And that makes sense: in a moment, ideally, when we celebrate the love of two people and their commitment to each other in that love, it’s a good moment to remind everyone that love is more than romance and happiness. It’s work. Life-giving, joy-bringing work.


Except, that’s not who Paul wrote this for. He’d helped to establish a community of Jesus’ followers in Corinth - a church, if you like - and it wasn’t going well. It was a community in a city that was very cosmopolitan in it’s day, and the Jesus community would have been made up of people from different social and economic backgrounds, different cultures, different genders, different ages. There was dissension and conflict and they were having trouble loving like Jesus. So Paul wrote this description of love to help them understand want was needed. For them and us.


We could all use this reminder, daily, especially now in a world that’s fractured and broken and hurting. This is the love that listens, learns, understands and heals. This is the love that opens hearts, not only to offer love, but to welcome it, to embrace it, make room for it and be changed by it. This is the love that creates, connects and enriches our lives.

Thursday, 27 May 2021

Enlightened Spirit

We have a bit of a tortured relationship with “experts” these days. It seems to have become quite easy to negate, and even dismiss, years of learning and experience and lose confidence in expert opinion. At least in some areas. Some people cite social media for that, some the frequency with which expert opinion may turn out to be flawed, some just want the expertise that offers confirmation of their own opinion, some perhaps just don’t want to know. There may be many reasons. Oddly, experts are divided on it.


Personally, I value expertise. I also think it’s important to be discerning about it and to consider how it’s being applied. Having access to expertise should not exempt one from doing their own thinking as well. I also think that it’s possible that all the expertise in the world may not yield an accurate prediction or opinion. And that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t make use of expertise: a real expert is always learning. So should we. We should always ask questions. There’s a quote that’s often attributed to the philosopher and academic Bertrand Russell that goes something like “the whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, and wiser people so full of doubts.”


I think expertise and wisdom are a good start. But that’s still not everything. There still needs to be a spirit of openness, a willingness to obtain all the expertise, employ discernment and engage practicality, remembering every journey is full of change.


There’s a story in John’s gospel of Jesus having a conversation with a man named Nicodemus. Unfortunately, I think, it begins with Nicodemus’ participation, but then becomes a lengthy statement from Jesus. An important one, for sure, but we don’t hear how Nicodemus replied or even how he left. John just has Jesus move on. I wish we knew more of Nicodemus in this moment because I think it would help us.


Nicodemus was a leader in the Jewish community, but not just a leader, a pharisee, an educated person who’s job was to keep and interpret the law. A pharisee would need to be an expert on the Torah and people would be expected to listen to him. Nicodemus, says John, comes to talk to Jesus, even acknowledging him as a teacher come from God.


As much as we often have a negative impression of pharisees from the stories of Jesus’ interaction with them, they feared the challenge Jesus presented to their place in society, their power and influence. Because he did. But that challenge wasn’t based on their knowledge of the words, but in the spirit in which they lived them. Or, rather, didn’t.


And that’s what Jesus talks to Nicodemus about. Being “born again” is about embracing the spirit and connecting with the divine nature within us and within creation, that energy that moves, like the wind, in, around and through us. That duality of flesh and spirit is in us and it’s what Jesus challenges Nicodemus with. He’s already taken the first step out of the safety of what he knows to learn more. The spirit is also the energy that moves us to action, to live out from each heart the love that makes the words, the knowledge and the wisdom come alive.


Nicodemus, says John, comes to see Jesus at night. We’ve tended to assume that’s because he didn’t want to be seen. But what if it’s simply a metaphor. What if he arrived in the shadows and left enlightened in spirit?

Thursday, 20 May 2021

The Way is forward

We celebrate birthdays in our church. It might not be the most solemn part of a Sunday service, but it’s a sacred one. It’s not a big thing, I guess, just singing a song. But I think it’s important to acknowledge the life events of our community, especially right now when we’re not able to be together. So there’s a song. It’s not Happy Birthday, it a little different. It goes like this "Happy birthday to you, oh happy birthday to you, may you feel Jesus near everyday of the year!  Happy birthday to you, oh happy birthday to you, have the best year you've ever had!" (You’ll have to join us some Sunday to hear the tune.)


I love that song because it reminds me that birthdays aren't just the anniversary of a date in the past or the opportunity to cross off another year, it's the beginning of a new one.  A new year that has potential in it, potential of feeling “Jesus near everyday of the year" and the promise of having “the best year you’ve ever had.” Every new year can be better.


As it happens, the end of May and beginning of June bring two dates that are important “birthdays” for our church. This year, Pentecost is May 23 and the founding of the United Church of Canada is June 10. Pentecost moves around a bit because it’s always fifty days after Easter (that’s what Pentecost means, “fifty”), but the inauguration of the United Church of Canada is an anniversary, it’s always the same day. Every once in awhile (like 2019) they land on the same day.


So, I’ve called the United Church’s birthday a “founding,” an “inauguration” and an “anniversary,” but, for all the names we use, I think it’s definitely a birthday. Something was birthed that day, something new and unique, something that has grown and changed, lived and aged and lived some more. Just like Pentecost. In the Bible, the Book of Acts recounts how, fifty days after Easter, the disciples were in Jerusalem where there was an annual festival happening. While there, "all of them were filled with the Holy Spirit" (Acts 2:4).  It was quite the scene: the Holy Spirit moved among them like a mighty rushing wind, with tongues of fire. Suddenly the disciples were able to communicate in all the home languages of those who were around them, telling them about Jesus. Empowered by the Spirit, they took that message out into the world, beginning to create communities of around the the teaching of Jesus.


Of course, not everyone embraced them. Not everyone believed and not everyone followed. Some that did, fell away or gave up. Some of the earliest communities of The People of the Way grew, some floundered and struggled a bit, some went a different way.


But they went forward. There’s a difference between reminiscing, holding on to the past as if trying to live there, and remembering, bringing the experience and learning of the past into living this moment and the days ahead. They knew Jesus was with them, they could even feel the Spirit that Jesus had promised would be with them. They knew the way wasn’t just forward, it was out. Out into the world to live love, just as Jesus did. This wasn’t just about making a “church,” but a world that sought to bring heaven here, not worry about how to get there.


I wasn’t at the birth of the United Church of Canada, but I bet the Holy Spirit was, just like in the story of Pentecost. That wind and fire of creativity and life is in all of us. How’s the Spirit moving you into the days ahead? 

Thursday, 13 May 2021

Beginning Again

Endings and beginnings can be tricky.


Look at disciples of Jesus. I feel pretty certain that they thought things were over when Jesus was arrested and killed. But then, three days later, he was alive again and perhaps they thought, well, Jesus is back and we can continue on just as before. But no, forty days after that Jesus leaves, not back to the tomb, but “carried up to heaven.” Before he goes, he tells the disciples they they need to tell the story, be witnesses to the world and live out his teaching. He’s going, he says, but the Holy Spirit will come soon and give them “power” to do what they need to. That happens fifty days after Easter and is the story of Pentecost.


This is all according to the Gospel of Luke and the Book of Acts. The same author wrote both Luke and Acts and they read like one continuous story: part one (the Gospel) is the story of Jesus and part two (Acts) is the disciples and followers of Jesus sharing the story of Jesus and the earliest days of the communities that become the church. It’s a story worth reading.


Endings and beginnings can be tricky, though. There’s often no clear cut definition between them, like, say, a Part 1 and a Part 2. Sometimes endings and beginnings overlap and it can be hard to get a handle on just when one moment has ended and another has begun. Sometimes there’s a space, an emptiness we might need to navigate through or over which we might need to build a bridge, something, anything, to carry us forward. That may well be where many of us find ourselves with the pandemic, or with life-changing moments or even in our day to day living.


I think the disciples found themselves in that place. Some of them may have felt like they weren’t sure where the journey with Jesus was ending - or if it even was - and where the mission with the Holy Spirit was beginning. Some may have wondered why Jesus left and they had to wait for the Spirit. Some may have wondered what this Spirit was: was it something new or the Spirit that’s been here from the beginning? Some may have wondered why Jesus had to leave at all.


In the midst of all that, they did two things. First, they returned to Jerusalem to wait, as Jesus told them, and they prayed (Acts 1:14). They took time to talk to God. They recognized God’s constant presence and they shared what was in their hearts with God. However we know God, however we might pray, it’s part of our relationship with the God who is present, in each of us and the world. It’s opening our hearts, both to share our thoughts and feelings and to listen for God speaking to us.


The second thing they did was a simple administrative task: there was now only eleven apostles so they elected Matthias to replace Judas. Matthias had been part of the larger group of Jesus’ followers from the beginning and, though he’s not mentioned again, he is the first to be chosen not by the physical Jesus, but in the spirit of Jesus. The first of many.


As they waited for what came next and how the Spirit might move them, they knew God was present and the spirit of Jesus was alive in them. I hope we all do.

Thursday, 6 May 2021

Where We Meet

Lately, I’ve found myself coming back to the same few words in the Gospel of John, over and over again. They’re important words to hear right now. We’re not just struggling with a pandemic, we’re struggling with so many other things and, most importantly, we’re struggling with each other. We’re frustrated and lonely and fearful and angry - too many emotions to count - whatever side you’re on. And those sides are getting further and further apart. Opinions seem more valuable than facts, facts seem to be what we make them, and we’re not so much talking as shouting. It’s like we’re building a “no man’s land” between our sides.


You know, that expression, though most familiar from World War I, actually dates from the 11th century. The point isn’t just that nothing can survive there, but to purposefully keep things - people, especially - apart. Intentionally. On purpose. We might as well just rename it “the middle.”


But I don’t think it’s empty. It’s where Jesus is. Mostly, when Jesus isn’t running back and forth between the sides, trying to draw people into the middle. And there’s never just two sides. Jesus is busy.


That’s why Jesus needs help. So, those few words from John. The night Jesus is arrested, the story in John has Jesus and the disciples sharing a meal and then Jesus makes a lengthy post-dinner speech. It’s clearly a farewell and he prefaces it by saying “look, I’m not going to be here much longer in person, so I have a new commandment for you: love one another as I have loved you.” And then he goes on to offer them words of comfort and even more words that explains more of what he means by “as I have loved you” and why it’s so important.


Thing is, “love one another” sounds pretty straight forward. It’s warm and fuzzy and comforting and I’m sure we’d all have our own way of understanding it. But Jesus didn’t say that. Jesus said “love one another as I have loved you.” I showed you how with my life. I showed you how in your relationships with me. I showed you that love is the way and that way is true and life-giving. Most importantly, I showed you with my life that your life is just as capable of it as me. You, too, come from God and the earth. You, too, are love - it’s your factory setting. You, too, can see that love in yourself, know that love and live that love into the world because the world is made of love. It’s the thing that connects all things. It’s the way. It’s not easy, it can be tricky and dangerous and scary. But it’s the way to wholeness. It’s the way to joy, not just happiness but true joy. It’s the way to completeness.


That’s the thing about “the way.” It’s not just Jesus, it’s love. By however or whoever you name it, it’s love. It’s not something to divide us, but to bring us together. It acknowledges our uniqueness, it allows our opinions, our thoughts, our beliefs, but invites us to a place of connection with grace, respect, openness and understanding. It invites us to see the value and true meaning of “together.” It invites us to the middle.