Today
my mantra comes from the American medical writer and practitioner Dr Patch
Adams who once wrote ‘dying is that process a few minutes before death when the
brain is deprived of oxygen – everything else is living!” He goes on to celebrate
the preciousness of life, and the urgency that we consciously waste not a
minute of this gift, that even in the face of DEATH, we are to LIVE … they are
words I find comfort in today …
Today,
I am struggling right now to make sense of our world … the news out of
Connecticut has deeply disturbed me … these things are becoming almost too
common in their occurrence, and in the face of this senseless and inane
tragedy, I become frustrated at the simple reality that every day around the
globe hundreds of 6 and 7 year old Children die of entirely preventable causes
like hunger, disease and violence – and there is seldom a whisper of their
deaths … To my thinking the death of any child is a senseless tragedy, whether
that child is in a school in the United States, a refugee camp in Africa, or a
slum in South America or an enemy compound in the Middle East … the preventable
death of any child or teen, or adult is an unacceptable thing …
And
so I struggle … I struggle because the discussion as already turned to the role
the gun culture in the US plays in these moments … I struggle because in the
depth of the anquished “WHY?” that rises to our collective lips, we seek easy,
simple and comforting answers in the face of enormous pain and senseless
suffering …
I
struggle because these moments strike a nerve in me that is deep and that runs
to the very core of my theology, my faith and my way of living and moving in
the world …
Given
the proximity to Christmas last night I thought about the 20 families who no
doubt had Christmas presents tucked away and special family celebrations
planned and prepared for the holidays and my heart wrenched at the
horrendousness of that simple reality … and I recalled an email exchange I had
18 years ago when I was serving in Bella Coola.
In
our community that Christmas we gathered on Christmas Eve and were surrounded
by very real and tangible struggles and suffering … in our congregation that
night was a friend and a member of our church who had just been diagnosed with
an aggressive leukemia – we didn’t know it then, but this would be his last
Christmas … sitting not far away was a young mom and her two daughters – mom
had come home from Vancouver against the Dr’s orders to spend one last
Christmas with her daughters – we would mourn her life less then six weeks
later … and lighting the Christ candle in the darkness that night was a young
woman of 13, who had only an hour before heard the news that the RCMP and the
Canadian Coast Guard were calling off the search for her father Jack, who along
with his buddy were missing at sea in the inlets and bays of the outer coast.
In
the darkness – we as a community lit a Candle and proclaimed that despite the
reality we were facing – the LIGHT WOULD COME.
I
shared an email that night from a community in the American south who werer
praying for us … the email shared the willingness of prayer for us by a
community that itself struggling with the tragedy of a house fire that ended
the lives of five little boys and their parents. The pastor who wrote ended his
email saying the day the family came and picked up their Christmas Hamper was a
day of Joy and celebration – the youngest little boy in the family was thrilled
to see wrapped presents in the hamper with his name on it.
The
pastor ended with the fervent hope that that beautiful smiling little boy had
dared to peek beneath the wrapping paper BEFORE a tragic fire snuffed out his
young life …
That
Christmas ever I remember standing outside our little country Church tucked
beneath the snow capped Coast Mountains – I wept and uttered the simple
question – WHY?
Why
do such tragedies continue to rock us?
Why
do such tragedies continue to happen?
WHY?
The
reality then – and the reality now – is that there are no simple or easy
answers to that lament …
But,
in these moments when we confront and face and realize how cold and cruel the
world can be we experience the full power of lighting a Candle in the darkness
and sharing that senseless, insane hope that not only will the light come, but
one day the darkness will be gone …
In
those deep dark and troubling moments – we live the message of Hope and Peace
and yes, even JOY …
Not
joy as a fake slap on a smiling face and rose coloured glasses and see the
world in sickeningly sweet terms – but the joy that comes from deep within –
the joy that accepts the full breadth of life and STILL puts one foot in front
of the other and says Life is too precious to waste.
In
the last couple of days, I’ve found myself mining the many readings and
quotations and reflections on life, and the struggle against the darkness and
embodying this joy-filled hope that I’ve accumulated and gathered in my life
and ministry … I’ve been struck by the diversity of sources and the commonality
of sentiments …
From
a wide range of backgrounds and experiences, I’ve gleaned a whisper that says
boldly, and perhaps foolishly that JOY in moments like THIS is on one hand is a
foolish venture, but on the other hand is our only way forward out of the
disturbing darkness …
Martin
Luther King addressed his Church on Christmas Eve in 1967 saying: This
Christmas season finds us a rather bewildered human race. We have
neither
peace within nor peace without. Everywhere paralyzing fears harrow people by
day and haunt them by night. Our world is sick with war; everywhere we turn we
see its ominous possibilities. And yet, my friends, the Christmas hope for
peace and good will toward all men can no longer be dismissed as a kind of
pious dream of some utopian. If we don't have good will toward men in this
world, we will destroy ourselves by the misuse of our own instruments and our
own power.
We
stand in a similar place … but then Joseph Campbell the philosopher and writer
says boldly: Find a place
inside where there’s joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.
Daring
to live this joy is our faithful calling – it is TRULY the message of the
Christmas Season. But we struggle to find that joy.
In
May of this year I heard an interview by former Scottish Episcopalian Bishop
Richard Holloway. The interview with Michael Enright on CBC’s Sunday Morning
program was so provocative and thought provoking that it caused me to take a
two hour detour on the way home from Manitoba to pick up Holloway’s memoirs!!
But
what struck me was Holloway’s insistence that we in the Church have an urgent
task. It struck me that in the interview and in his memoirs,
Holloway also notes the dire need to proclaim, embody and share
this Joyous Hope in our world today ... we live in a time ripe with shadowy
darkness and overwhelmed by paralyzing FEAR. And instead of offering the Gospel
that counters that fear and darkness, the Church has in its complacency
accepted and adopted that stance of fear ...
Today
we have an opportunity … we have an obligation as people of faith to confront
this dark fear that is raging around us not only with Hope – but with our
faithful and faith FILLED joy.
Not
an empty false, slap on a happy face and wish everyone a sweet and blessed day
– but the JOY that comes from within that accepts life in its fullness from the
dizzing heights to the brutal dark depths and dares to celebrate the fullness
of LIFE.
Thirteen
years ago I was asked to summarize my theology of ministry in one word and
reflect on it … the result was an article that was published in a Canadian
ministry magazine, and since then has been the foundation of my life, my faith
and my ministry. What I wrote in part was this:
I
would describe my theology of ministry in one simple word: JOY.
The
definition of Joy in a dictionary refers to great happiness, or a source of
great delight, but I want to be clear: I do not see joy as pasting on a happy
face and pretending that everything is lovely. To me, JOY is embracing life in
its fullness and proclaiming with certainty that we are never separated from
God’s love.
Among
many things:
Joy
is being a child of God.
Joy is being welcomed into the most
intimate moments of life and being asked to pray, of just be present with
family and friends.
Joy is the opportunity to hold
someone’s hand in a moment of tragedy.
Joy is holding a new born baby, or
baptizing an adopted child.
Joy is weeping with the hurting and
laughing with a Bible Study group.
Joy is watching a baby discover, for the
third time today, her hand.
Joy is seeing the world through the
Holy Wow of a three year old child, who is discovering what a wonder creation
is.
Joy is building Lego sets with a five
year old, and wiping away his tears when he scrapes his knee falling off a
bike.
Joy is crying over injustice and
rejoicing that we have a community that truly cares about us.
Joy is having tea with an elder who
shares her memories of a world seven decades away.
Joy is having a pop with a group of
teens who think everything is “cool” or “awesome.”
Joy is struggling to find our way, and
enjoying the journey as much as the destination.
Joy is leading a worship service
erupting with the noise of children and quiet with the reflective wisdom of
seniors.
Joy is the quiet presence of the cognitively
impaired in a care home.
Joy
is knowing that sometimes life just isn’t fair.
Joy
is communication and community.
Joy is facing controversy and conflict
and journeying to reflection, resolution and healing.
Joy is the ministry of all of God’s
people.
Joy is being a servant of God
journeying with God’s children and sharing the ups and downs of everyday life
with openness, with honesty, and most of all with love.
Joy is making a difference in one life
everyday.
Joy is the church, the children of God
in action.
Joy is the journey of faith through all
the twists and turns of life.
I could go on. But suffice to say, to
me the theology of ministry is about doing, not taking. It is about using the
gifts and talents which God provides to care for those around us and to welcome
in all of God’s children.
A friend (Rev. David Shearman of Owen
Sound) recently described my approach to ministry as “hospitality” and observed
that I move to the periphery and work very hard to draw the circle in. He may
be right. I value the outreach of the church, but sometimes we need to look
close by and embrace those who are hurting right beside us in the pews, and
that may be the toughest challenge we face, but it is a challenge I embrace and
value.
To me, ministry is about action. It is
doing, not theorizing. I’m not afraid of facing issues head-on, but at the end
of the day, we must, as God’s children, be able to break bread and share the
cup in faith, and if conflict prevents this, then we have to roll up our
sleeves and work. I am not afraid of that.
It is not easy to summarize my
theology of ministry on a couple of pieces of paper. Instead I am most
comfortable going out into the world and living out my faith and ministry with
JOY.
My understanding of ministry is living
out the word JOY in all its infinite fullness.
Today,
in the face of fear – in the face of the darkness – in the face of anything BAD
life can throw our way, we are called by faith – by the goodness that dwells in
our hearts to BE people of Joy – to boldly and courageously go into the world
living that joy that lies within, and to share and celebrate it as we change
the world …
Martin Luther King ended
his Christmas sermon proclaiming the hope and certainty that comes from faith
saying:
I have a dream that one day men will rise up and come to see
that they are
made to live together as
brothers. I still have a dream this morning that one day every Negro in this
country, every colored person in the world, will be judged on the basis of the
content of his character rather than the color of his skin, and every man will respect
the dignity and worth of human personality. I still have a dream that one day
the idle industries of Appalachia will be revitalized, and the empty stomachs
of Mississippi will be filled, and brotherhood will be more than a few words at
the end of a prayer, but rather the first order of business on every
legislative agenda. I still have a dream today that one day justice will roll
down like water, and righteousness like a mighty stream. I still have a dream
today that in all of our state houses and city halls men will be elected to go
there who will do justly and love mercy and walk humbly with their God. I still
have a dream today that one day war will come to an end, that men will beat
their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks, that nations
will no longer rise up against nations, neither will they study war any more. I
still have a dream today that one day the lamb and the lion will lie down
together and every man will sit under his own vine and fig tree and none shall
be afraid. I still have a dream today that one day every valley shall be
exalted and every mountain and hill will be made low, the rough places will be
made smooth and the crooked places straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be
revealed, and all flesh shall see it together. I still have a dream that with
this faith we will be able to adjourn the councils of despair and bring new
light into the dark chambers of pessimism. With this faith we will be able to
speed up the day when there will be peace on earth and good will toward men. It
will be a glorious day, the morning stars will sing together, and the sons of
God will shout for joy.
Yesterday
a friend in New York City offered perhaps the wisest and most apt facebook
posting I’ve read in the last three days. My friend Katie noted:
My beloved, my partner, David Wilson,
told me in essence that while the families of the slain children grieve, it is
my job, all of our jobs, to be soldiers of love. Today, out on the streets of
New York City, I could swear everyone was feeling the same thing.
As people of faith – as
children of God – as members of the human family, this Advent we are called to
be Soldiers of Love, sharing our hope, celebrating our joy, and creating Peace
… WE are the LIGHT we speak of in the Advent Season … we can drive back the
darkness …
May it be so …thanks
be to God … Let us pray …
