Sermon for World Food Day - October 14th 2012

One of the commentaries for this week’s readings notes the following:

Job’s three friends believe the wicked receive just retribution. Job must be wicked in God’s eyes to have such calamities befall him. The doubts they raise about Job are within the orthodox Wisdom tradition of their faith. In the section immediately prior to today’s reading Eliphaz questions whether Job could possibly be innocent. He claims that Job “stripped the naked of their clothing” and “withheld bread from the hungry” (22:6,7). Even though Job didn’t commit these injustices, it is nevertheless an insidious criticism. To be powerful in a community where people are hungry or favoured in a land where people are stripped of their dignity is a way of ben­efiting from the injustice of the world.

Job maintains his innocence and, in today’s reading, calls upon God, who is silent and seemingly absent, to reason with him. Given a choice, Job would rather argue his integrity before an awe­some God than claim a wickedness for himself that would satisfy the religious conventions of his friends.

          Job would rather stand before an awesome God and argue for his integrity – ultimately, his innocence from the suffering he is enduring – than claim for himself a wickedness that would satisfy the religious conventions of his so-called friends.

          The lesson for us in this exchange, is the steadfastness by which Job lives his life, maintains his faith, and endures his struggles and suffering. He is being counselled to curse God and die by his wife, to accept his fate by his friends, and to simply go with the notion that he has done something to deserve all of the bad stuff happening to him. But Job won’t do that.

Job can’t do that. Jon is ultimately, to faithful to do that …

When we couple this ancient Old Testament reading with our Gospel reading, we are left to reflect on our choices in life and in faith, and how they play out in our day to day existence … the heart of the question “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” echoes through Job’s life experience and struggles, and the conversation Jesus finds himself involved with and it continues to resonate outwards into our modern lives and world … what must we do to inherit eternal life?

How must we live today, to ensure that we benefit and partake in the promises of life eternal.

For some, the answer is a simple straightford check list that must be adhered to … for some it’s about doing the right thing and saying the right words at the right time … for others it is an immensely complicated and at times confusing process … while for others it is about Grace.

Grace – the gift of transformation and forgiveness offered with unlimited and boundless love at the hands of God without condition, restriction or anything else.

Grace – the very heart of what we are as a Church. The gift of God that affirms our place in God’s love, and affirms our worth and value as people AND that assures and ensures we are a forgiven and transformed people.

Trusting in God, and trusting in this gift of Grace is about more than just following the religious dictates and conventions. Llike Job, we need to value the gift of Grace – real grace not some vague imitation of grace.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer offers the most succinct and straightforward definition of real grace in the opening paragraphs of his classic volume “The Cost of Discipleship” when he observes:

Cheap grace is the mortal enemy of our Church. Our struggle today is for costly grace.

Cheap grace means grace as bargain-basement goods, cut-rate forgiveness, cut-rate comfort, cut-rate sacraments, grace as the church’s inexhaustible pantry, from which is doled out by careless hands without hesitation or limit. It is grace without a price, without costs. Is is said that the essence of Grace is that the bill for it is paid in advance for all time. Everything can be had for free, courtesy of that paid bill. The price paid is infinitely great, and therefore, the possibilities of taking advantage and wasting grace are also infitinetly great. What would grace be, if it were not cheap grace?

Cheap grace means grace as doctrine, as principle, as system. It means forgiveness of sins as a general truth; it means God’s love as merely a Christian idea of God. … Cheap grace is thus, the denial of God’s living word, denial of incarnation of the word of God. … Cheap grace is preaching forgiveness without repentance; it is baptism without the discipline of community; it is the Lord’s supper witout confession of sin; it is absolution without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without the living incarnate Christ.

Costly Grace is the hidden treasure in the field, for the sake of which people go and sell with joy everything they have … it is the call of Jesus which causes a disciple to leave his nets and follow him.

Costly grace is the gospel which must be sought agains and again … costly grace is the incarnation of God. … it is grace as living word, word of God, which God speaks as God pleases. It comes to us as a gracious call to follow Jesus; it comes as a forgiving word to the fearful spirit and the broken heart. Grace is costly because it forces people under the yoke of following Jesus, it is GRACE when Jesus says “my yoke is easy, and my burden light.”               (cost of discipleship – D. Bonhoeffer)

Costly grace is about living our faith, even in those moments like that faced by Job that feel like God is absent. Costly grace is about living our faith knowing that faith and grace and the incarnation of God is about more than just doctrine and theology and empty rhetoric – it is about trusting in God and our faith. It is about making decisions that reflect our role and place as disciples, and reveal rather than deny our values of faith.  

This willingness to face life with ALL of its ups AND downs, while daring to live our faith and celebrate the gift of costly grace reminds us that:

Jesus did not walk by the Sea of Galilee and shout to the fishermen, “Have faith!” Instead, he asked them to do something more: “Follow me.” When they followed, he gave them ore things to do.At fist, he demonstrated what he wanted them to do. Then he did it with them. Finally, he sent them out to do it themselves, telling them to proclaim God’s reign and cure the sick. When they returned from this first mission, they could not believe what had happened. They discovered that proclaiming the kingdom was not a matter of teaching doctrine, rather, the kingdom was a matter of imitating Jesus’ action. Jesus did not tell them to have faith. He pushed them into the world to PRACTICE faith. The disciples did not hope the world would change. They changed it. And in doing so, they themselves changed.

(Diana Butler-Bass pg 207-8 – Christianity after Religion)

The commentary I began with, ends its reflections for today with the observation:

… Jesus was asking him to give up his ability to keep the Law! Jesus has asked him to give up the one way to achieve salvation that he knows in favour of something entirely new. In order to achieve eternal life, Jesus is saying, he must relinquish his focus on achieving it. He must become a very different person.

When the man walked away griev­ing Jesus had no harsh words for him. Rather he understood that to give up what one knows for that which one has not yet experienced is a great risk.

On this World Food Sunday we are faced with choices far tougher than which product to pick off a shelf. Like Job, many of us are the privileged in a hungry world. Like the rich man, we are challenged by a call to discipleship more radical than we can imagine. What choices can each of us risk to further God’s reign?

Costly Grace means going into the world and making the active CHOICE to practice our faith – changing the world – and changing ourselves in the process.

And it ALL begins with the two simple words that echo across the millennia: Follow Me, and our choices will determine where it leads …

May it be so – thanks be to God – let us pray …

Sermon for September 23rd 2012 - A visit from James ...

(a visit from James, the brother of John - one of the twelve)

(entering from the back)

What the heck did he mean saying that kid is greater than the rest of us … this is all Peter’s fault. He ALWAYS has to be the big shot, the important one.

He’s the first to answer questions when Jesus asks, even when he is usually wrong he still blurts out his answer … he’s such a jerk

It was Peter who started that argument, insisting he was the most important among us.

“Hey James,” he said, “Who do you think is the most important among us?”

And I had to answer him. I suppose I should have just played his game and said “Me”. But no, I have to say “Oh I think it’s Judas …”

That just set Peter off, then he starts ranting about how HE is the most important, and how Jesus tells HIM the most important things first.

I really shouldn’t have said anything about the whole stumbling block episode – that just got him really fired up … then he wouldn’t calm down even when John and Andrew told him to … had to keep going on about how important he was, and how Jesus trusts him more than the rest of us and he is the leader even if Jesus didn’t say it yet …

It was like a bunch of kids … then Jesus asks what we were arguing about, and Peter goes and tells him …

Man, I can’t believe that … Peter tells him that we were arguing over who was the greatest among us … and Jesus just smiles and shakes his head.

But I really don’t get what Jesus meant with his answer … the being a slave and serving others I get, afterall, that’s what we’ve been doing all along. Looking out for the poor, making sure they have bread. Caring for the broken and lonely. We’ve been doing that.

But what did Jesus mean when he took that little girl and said ‘when you welcome even a child you welcome me …” What did that mean?

I guess he was telling Peter that a child was greater than he is.

But I think he was saying more than that … wasn’t he?

(pause)

I wonder … I wonder if what Jesus meant was for us to consider how helpless a child really is.

A child needs us to look out for him. A child needs us to look after her. A child needs the adult to provide for them … food, clothing, love, care – ALL of it. Without the adult, a child would perish.

Yet, a child doesn’t really give us anything in return do they?

They don’t have power, or wealth, or influence.

They simply are …

What if that is what Jesus meant?

What if he wanted us to remember the most vulnerable people … children, the widows, the poor, the disabled … those who can’t really give us anything in return, and we need to look out for and look after THEM?

I wonder … in our world, we are all about power, and wealth, and influence and prestige … but children have none of that. Could that be what Jesus meant?

Which one of us is the greatest?

Maybe the greatest among us is the one who doesn’t strive for the power and privilege and the influence … the one who doesn’t try to be top dog, but instead makes sure the folks far from the power and influence are looked after …

What was it Jesus said … just as you have done it for one of these who are least of my sisters and brothers, you have done it for me …

Could that kid be what he’s talking about?

It’s kind of like that little boy back on the hillside above Caperneum. That one who heard we were trying to feed ALL those people gathered to listen to Jesus, and that little kid pulled out his lunch and said “It’s not much but I can share what I have …”

Twelve baskets of left overs from a couple of dry crusts of bread and a bit of fish … and a good breeze would have blown that kid off his feet, yet look what he pulled off! He stepped up and offered his lunch … yeah, and I remember Peter laughing at the little boy standing there – “How can we feed ALL these people with that?” Peter said.

Then Jesus scolded Peter … huh … how can Peter even claim to be the greatest when he is the one constantly being scolded by Jesus …

But that little boy. He stood there in front of us holding out the measly loves of bread and the dried fish and Jesus smiled and thanked him, then holding the boy’s hands and his lunch said a prayer of thanks and then started sharing the food … and dozens and dozens of people were fed that day.

Oh, sure it was likely the case that everyone had lunches and they pulled them out when they saw that a little kid offered his – but still it WAS a miracle. Because of that little boy ALL those people were fed …

That wouldn’t be the kind of leadership and greatness Jesus is talking about would it?

Being like a child … accepting everyone … looking after everyone … just having a good heart without judgement … without all the nonsense … offering what we have when it is needed and not worrying about getting something in return … just being thoughtful, caring and kind … living all these ideas Jesus keeps talking about and not worrying about things like power, prestige, influence or even money … just trusting in God to look out for us …

Jesus wouldn’t mean THAT would he?

(pause)

I guess we know that Peter may not be the greatest after all … maybe that little boy in Caperneum, who shared his lunch is greater than all of us … maybe Jesus smiled because he just knew that we’d figure it out one day …

(remove cloak - step out of character)

Often in the Church, to say nothing of the world in which we live, we value our place in society by the wealth and property we accumulate, by the job we hold, by the titles and influence we carry, and by the connections we make and that’s okay so long as we don’t make it our sole motivation in life – the thing we strive for constantly, or how we measure our value as people. The question we need to face and reflect on is simply this: what if, by faith, we are called to something different, something more?

What if, we are being challenged to see the world in a slightly different way.

Instead of going out into our day, seeking to be the greatest, what if we went out into our day seeking to serve those on the margins, and to ensure this radical ideal of ‘All Welcome’ and the inclusivity it offers, is extended to EVERYONE, not just the select few we are comfortable with?

This past week, the Daily Bread Food Bank in Toronto released a study on the increased demands being placed upon them for food support … our local food bank has been adding new families every month … ALL around us are the signs that we are in the midst of tough economic and social times … what if our call to faith is not about casting our lots with the powerful and well-connected, but daring to step up and speak out about the struggles our family, our friends, our neighbours and our community are having …

This is the moment in time when we begin to live the ideas offered by our Moderator The Rt Rev. Gary Paterson, who said in his pastoral letter this past week:

You see, I believe there are two key narratives that we need to focus on. First, we know we are living in exile, in Babylon, and there's no going back to the "good old days." We probably need to do a bit more lamenting—but then we have to figure out how to live in Babylon, how to sing the Lord's song in a new way, seeking the welfare of the city, the town, or the village in which we find ourselves.

Which brings me to the second half of the story: right across the country, new and exciting ministries are already happening. And why should this surprise us, we who are rooted in a story of crucifixion and resurrection? Communities of faith—some experimental, some small, some a bit larger—are exploring new ways of worshipping, witnessing, and serving, though perhaps initially seeming as strange and unrecognizable as the risen Christ was to his first followers. This is Diana Butler Bass territory of deepened spiritual practices and communities rooted in prayer and hospitality.

The word used in the Greek for Child in our reading from Mark is the same word as “servant” used in Isaiah 53 – the Suffering Servant passage … this is no mere coincidence. We begin in prayer and we move to hospitality for ALL …

In the face of a world that is increasingly divisive and confrontational, we are being called BY FAITH, to welcome in the child – the servant – those at the margins: the poor, the hungry, the disenfranchised, the AIDS patient, the homeless wanderer, the grubby panhandler, the immigrant, the First Nations activist, the tattooed teenager, the gangbanger … we are called to welcome them as children of God, and to humbly care for them …

What if we are being called to care for those in need through prayer, through action, through daring to live our faith without striving to be the greatest, but striving to simply, humbly, quietly and lovingly, live our faith and show it through our actions?

The world is a hard and cold place … and it needs the caring ministry of love that we can offer that is grounded in faith … we are called to care for the children, the servants, - those on the margins …

May it be so – thanks be to God … Let us pray …

Sermon from September 9th 2012 - Why do I come to Church?

One of the dominant conversations I seem to have with people when they find out that I am a member of the order of ministry – a minister, is about how their church – whether it is another United Church Congregation, or another denomination – is changing and in a state of decline.

Almost unanimously, the conversations talk about the lack of young people, the greying of the worshipping population and a nostalgic look back on what was …

If I have the time and the energy, I like to explore with that person what their church is doing that is positive … are there other activities and programmes that are successful? … are they involved in actions and undertakings in the broader community that are helping? … do they host groups and gatherings within their building that offer people some sense of hope and a connectedness to something more?

I try, in my small way, to expand the definition of Church that has gripped us so tightly, and has unfortunately pulled us down, rather than build us up … We tend in the modern church, to define Church in a fairly narrow way.

We begin with our supposedly common beliefs. We hold to particular statements of faith and creedal statements that we may or may not evern fully understand. We have a notion of what is right and wrong, and we hold to, and hold UP those ideals as what defines us … in the process we defensively focus on our differences rather than focus on our commonalities in an affirmative way.

I read recently about President Obama attending a college graduation service that had students from 181 different national backgrounds. In the ceremony, the incredible diversity of national heritage was celebrated by the presence not only of the students, but the flags and greetings of their languages. To pull it all together, President Obama cited the American motto E Pluribus Unum – out of many, one.

Obama went on to remind his audience that this simple notion lies at the heart of our north American society – immigrant who came from the farthest corners of the planet to begin to build a new life in community. Many backgrounds, many traditions, many ethnicities who gathered and became one: Canadian and American, and who sought and continue to seek a common good for each other and for themselves.

E pluribus Unum!

Out of many, one.

Today, as a community of faith – a church, if you will, we are gathering at table to remember our commonalities, and to celebrate what brings us together. Our differences are laid aside as we break bread and share the cup and join in communion.

We are celebrating the gift of community. The gift of becoming ONE, rather than remaining many.

The challenge for us, and for the Church in this 21^st Century is to move from the idea of Church as a place of rules and dogmas and creeds, and instead become a place where the diversity of the many is celebrated, and what we share in common is focused on, rather than wasting our time and precious energy focusing on what makes us different.

Yesterday, I had a chat with someone at the farmers’ market about the tendancy of Churches to have an asterix on their “All Welcome” sign out front.

“Oh sure, they SAY ALL welcome, but do they really mean that?” they said, “what if I’m gay, or black, or an immigrant, or disabled, or radical …” and on and on the list went … “am I still really welcomed then?”

It’s a hard question, with a tough soul searching answer … if we say “All Welcome” do we believe much less live it?

That ultimately is the heart of our faith … that is the heart of what we read and reflect on in Scriptures … that is where the rubber hits the road when it comes to BEING Church, and BEING people of faith.

When we come to break bread and pour out the cup, when we gather to pray and sing, when we assemble in this place, do we truly welcome in ALL, or just a select few we are comfortable with?

These are not new questions.

Twenty years ago, I first used a poetic dialogue by Anne Weems that had two people sitting side by side in church yearning to move past the “Good morning, lovely weather we’re having?” conversations that mark much of our interactions. They wanted to share their hopes and dreams and frustrations in a place of faith – in a community … but couldn’t find the courage …

Now, 20 years later, I could still use that poetic dialogue and ask the same questions in almost any church – the only difference is that today, two decades after she penned those words, there is a greater urgency in our communities of faith, to discover a new way of living and being Church before we shut the doors and turn off the lights one last time.

What we ultimately are searching for is something that has been here the WHOLE time.

We are searching for Community – the coming together of diverse and different people, who come together as one.

Diana Butler Bass in the closing pages of her Book Christianity after Relgion writes about a local farmer’s market she supports and is involved in:

During spring 2010, I decided that I wanted to spend most of my family’s food budget at the local farmer’s market. After reading Michael Pollon’s “Omnivore’s Dilemma” I wanted to do something to make the world different regarding food, sustainability, and the future. Every Tuesday morning, I went to the nearby market buying from the same fifteen vendors. As the weeks progressed, I got to know the farmers – old time Virginians working family farms, new immigrants from Mexico, well-off retirees growing organic crops or raising free range animals. They told me about farming practises and managing land, about their hopes and fears for the future of American farms, sharing their passion for good food and the way of life it embodied. They taught me how to cook unfamiliar vegetables, and how to grill buffalo. I picked up tips from the local gardening club, which maintained a booth at the market, talked with grassroots political activists, ran into local clergy – including a Methodist pastor who had just bought an SUV-full of apples for a congregation-wide pie contest – and chatted theology, and shadowed local celebrity chefs to see what produce they purchased. Regulars recognized me, asking whether the recipes had worked, if my family had enjoyed vacation, and how my book was going. Pretty soon, I realized that the farmers’ market was more than a place to shop – it was a community, and a lively spiritual one at that. Every Tuesday morning, the people who gathered learned stories, shared practices, celebrated food, and created a microcosm of a different kind of world. (page 264)

The farmers’ market becomes a community – an expression of community that is distinctive and unique and different. Her last sentence could be applied to The Church (and I think that is her intent).

The Church is described in her observation that: Every Tuesday (or Sunday, or Wednesday, or Friday) morning, the people who gathered learned stories, shared practices, celebrated food, and created a microcosm of a different kind of world.

That’s us.

That’s the Church.

We share stories of our life and experience interpreted and reflected upon through faith.

We share practices, whether it is knitting tips, recommendations on stores and businesses, vacation destinations, gardening ideas, health concerns, or anything else that happens when we gather in conversation, or even when we sit down together to study scriptures or wrestle with the latest idea coming from GC offices in Toronto – we share together in community!

And, we celebrate food – today we celebrate communion, each week we remind one another of the importance and necessity of the local food bank, and we frequently gather to sit down at meals together, even if it is just coffee and cookies at the back – we celebrate the importance and centrality of food.

AND, in the process we create this microcosm of life and faith that proclaims, celebrates and embodies a different way of life in the world.

We are, at the end of the day, the body of Christ – the Kingdom of God incarnate – and we are to go into the world sharing and celebrating our faith and recreating the world. We can’t do THAT if, we waste our energy focusing on the minor points that we differ over. Instead, we are called to focus on what we share in common, and work positively, and affirmatively to build UP the kingdom and to share the Gospel.

What I believe may be different that what you believe, and that may be different from what the person next to you believes – but instead of focusing our energy on those differences, and trying to convince each other that MY way is the ONLY way – let’s leave that piece up to God, and instead dare to celebrate that we are part of this amazing and diverse community gathered here, and work TOGETHER to share our common faith not only with one another – but with the world out there!!

We are a community of faith – let’s go into the world and share THAT Good News!!

May it be so – thanks be to God … Let us pray …