Easter Sunday Sermon

Mark 16:1-8   http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=202369908 

So I almost killed myself the other day. The weekend my wife left for a ski trip, I had the bright idea to do some home renos. If you have ever done home renos, you are probably thinking about your own brush with death at the hands of a table saw, pneumatic nailer or a fall from a ladder. Mine was with electricity. I was replacing the light switches and plug-ins in the kitchen and dutifully turned off the breakers downstairs, but for unbeknown to me only half of them actually turned off. The tingling feeling I got from my first touch of the plug-in should have helped me clue in that something wasn’t quite right. But it was not until the huge spark popped out of the socket with a bang and the whole house went dark that I realized that for as much as I like to think that I can fix things, I am not a very good electrician.

It’s amazing how strong this urge can be sometimes to want to fix things – from minor electrical work to leaky pipes, to that rotted out board on the back deck. But I think it goes past home repair – to just about anything that we don’t think fits quite right, looks quite right, acts quite right. This resurrection story from Mark’s gospel is one of those things. You might have realized this as we read through it together – it is very different than the other gospel accounts.

The starkest difference of all is that there is no sighting of the resurrected Jesus. He doesn’t appear to the disciples so that they can see him and believe. The women who come to anoint his body see that the stone has already been rolled away, and a young man dressed in white tells them that Jesus is not here, but has been raised and is going ahead of them to Galilee. And so instead of running back to the other disciples as is the case in the other gospels, the two Mary’s and Salome flee the tomb in terror and amazement – they are afraid (even though the man told them not to be). And they say nothing to anyone about what they have seen.

This is the original ending to Mark’s gospel. The women freaked out – running away scared and said nothing. Not exactly the best ending to a story – especially one as important to us as this! As you can imagine, this didn’t sit well with the early Christian community. I mean is that the last word you want people to remember – that everyone freaked out and zipped their lips? Not likely.

So years later, some well intentioned monk got the urge to fix the problem and added the short sweet ending which many bibles don’t include and others put in parentheses. It says: [“and all that had been commanded them they told briefly to those around Peter. And afterward Jesus himself sent out through them, from east to west, the sacred and imperishable proclamation of eternal salvation.”] The only problem is, it doesn’t sound anything like the rest of the gospel.

Yet this still didn’t fix the problem for some as it was still too short, and so another person added an even longer ending sometime in the second century which most bibles include. This ending ( http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=202369968 ) borrows some of the images of the other gospel writers as well as adds a few new elements.

It’s a bizarre little resurrection account that we are left with. But the fact that we actually have it does tell us that the women must not have remained silent for too long. Eventually the story came out, and was written down and circulated among the faithful – with and without the various endings.

The thing I like about Mark’s gospel in its original form is that Mark doesn’t shy away from showing us that the resurrection of Jesus – much like his crucifixion on the cross threatens to end in failure in the hearts of even the people closest to Jesus. Peter denies even knowing Jesus, Judas betrays him, the crowd who had just recently praised him – rejects him, and instead of fighting back or calling in a favour from God, Jesus chooses to do nothing as his life is taken from him. And now – even with the announcement that he has been raised from the dead Jesus can’t even stick around long enough to show up to the women who were coming to bury his body properly and explain what has happened.

None of it has happened the way the followers of Jesus expect it to – the way they might have wanted it to happen.  And there was nothing they could do to fix it.

Mark’s gospel is intended to be open ended for a reason. It is meant to be completed and lived out by the hearers and readers of the gospel – people like us. And Mark does this precisely to place the burden of responsibility for telling the good news squarely on our shoulders. By ending his account in this way, Mark invites us into the story, to pick up where these women left off and, indeed, go and tell that Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified, has been raised, and is going ahead to meet us, just as he promised.

When Mark begins his gospel saying that “This is the beginning of the good news,” he doesn’t mean just this one verse, Mark 1:1 – he’s talking about his whole gospel. All sixteen chapters are just the beginning of the good news because the story doesn’t end with Jesus’ resurrection but continues in us, moving forward all the way up to our own day and time.

So here’s the thing, I think our life together is something like this, too. We’re often tempted to fix all of the “bad endings” in our lives – that’s understandable, even reasonable, but the reality is that it’s not always our call. Because we worship the God who meets us precisely at the point where things seem the worst – places where death and brokenness seem overwhelming. And God in Jesus comes notmerely to fix things, but to redeem them – and us! – turning what looks like an ending into a new beginning and taking what looks like a failure and offering it back to us an opportunity.  (Thanks David Lose)

SonRise service on Pilot's Monument (thanks Anson)

And so what do we do with this opportunity? Do we run away and keep silent or do we engage in work left to us – to share what we have found to be true and live out the good news that God is at work making all things new?Author Peter Rollins give us something to reflect on as he talks about the way that he struggles and often fails to practice living out the resurrection in his own life. He says: “I deny the resurrection of Christ every time I do not serve at the feet of the oppressed, each day that I turn my back on the poor; I deny the resurrection of Christ when I close my ears to the cries of the downtrodden and lend my support to an unjust and corrupt system. However there are moments when I affirm that resurrection, few and far between as they are. I affirm it when I stand up for those who are forced to live on their knees, when I speak for those who have had their tongues torn out, when I cry for those who have no more tears left to shed.”

It is a frighteningly daunting task that is set out before us. Maybe that is why the women ran away. But our experience and years of seeing the risen Jesus at work in us and all around us – reminds us that we do not need to be afraid. Jesus has already gone out ahead of us and will continue to meet us and our world where he is needed most – and there he will do something amazing! It is my prayer that this challenging yet hopeful promise – that Jesus is risen – resonates within us and does something new in us again this morning. As we gather together may we truly hear this Word for our lives and be drawn to faith – pulled into God’s life giving story, once again. For Christ is Risen – He is Risen indeed – thanks be to God!

Welcome to Lent

In this season of Lent, often people “give up” things as a way of fasting.  Chocolate/coffee, Facebook, and general over consumption are relinquished for forty days as an act of self-denial or “sacrifice”.  In a more modern twist, other people ”take on” things.  They exercise more regularly, commit to a service project, and develop a spiritual discipline.  All of these can be good things – they are actions, and we love actions don’t we?

But what if this year we really looked at the reasons we fasted, and what we want to accomplish from them?  Would it be more meaningful? 

If we are fasting from spending copious amounts of time on Facebook, what then, is our fast moving us towards?  Is it about setting priorities of how we spend our time?  Is it an acknowledgment that technology can be all consuming?  Perhaps we are saying that by spending less time in front of the screen, we are free to spend more time in person with our families, in prayer with our God, or in service to our neighbour?   

Likewise,  if we are taking on a service project – say serving at the soup kitchen, what is our fast?  Is it a change in our attitudes towards homeless people?  Is it a  recognition of the humanity that lies in each one of us?   Is it a belief that all people have basic rights to food, shelter and clothing?

When we fast from one thing, the hope is that we are then freed to feast on another.  Here’s what I think this looks like:  (source unknown)

Fast from judgment, Feast on compassion                                                 
Fast from greed, Feast on sharing                                                              
Fast from scarcity, Feast on abundance                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Fast from fear, Feast on peace
Fast from lies, Feast on truth                                                                     
Fast from gossip, Feast on praise                                                              
Fast from anxiety, Feast on patience                                                          
Fast from evil, Feast on kindness                                                               
Fast from apathy, Feast on engagement
Fast from discontent, Feast on gratitude
Fast from noise, Feast on silence
Fast from discouragement, Feast on hope
Fast from hatred, Feast on love

What will be your Fast this Lenten season? What will be your Feast?

Sermon for February 12, 2012

Mark 1:40-45                                                     

http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=196430518

So I was in Canmore this week for our annual pastor’s study conference. It was, as always an   excellent time for me to recharge, be renewed and be reacquainted with my colleagues and friends in ministry. Our speaker was engaging, challenging us to stretch our imaginations to envision evangelism as a way of life.

Yes, Evangelism – that scary word that we are cautious to speak out loud, lest we actually have to do it. As if sharing our faith with a stranger, family member or friend was somehow a fate worse than death. Yes, even us “religious professionals” hold that fear that we will be looked at funny for sharing the source of our faith – or worse ostracized by others because clearly no “normal person” does that sort of thing! I know that look all too well – that “this guy must be a Jesus freak” kind of look – “stay away from him so that you don’t catch what he’s got.”

At least, that is how I sometimes envision people’s response to evangelism. As if they will assume that I am some sort of religious nut trying to get them to drink the kool-aid. A social leper who needs to be avoided. “Look away – don’t make eye contact or he’ll talk to you!” Maybe it’s because I sometimes feel that way when random people approach me.

My wife always makes fun of me when we go shopping because whenever the salesperson comes over to ask if I need any help, I most always cringe and crawl into my shell. “I’m fine thanks” I chirp, “I’ll let you know if I need anything”. I suppose I assume that they are going to pressure me in to something that I am simply not interested in, and I’ll probably buy it because I am a sucker and just too polite to say no. But of course, not all salespersons are like that. Most are just trying to be helpful. I think that at the core, most people who “evangelize” are trying to do the same. But there is a stigma that is often attached to that action – and it is applied by both the non-religious and religious communities in similar ways.

Jesus, in our gospel lesson is out evangelizing – he is sharing the good news that the kingdom of God has come near. He is out inviting people to repent by considering a new way of living in the world. It isn’t the latest lifestyle gimmick or trendy fad that Jesus is pushing, but a chance to experience real transformation in their lives as they come in contact with Jesus. His good news marks a change in the economy of God. A change in the way that God seeks to be understood to be at work in the world.

Here is Jesus – out preaching and teaching, when a leper comes to him on his knees begging him to help him. Saying, “if you choose, you can make me clean.” Here is a man with a deep trust that Jesus can actually make a difference in his life. Maybe this trust is a result of him hearing the stories of how Jesus has been busy casting out unclean spirits and healing the sick like Simon’s mother in law. If Jesus can do that with those people, surely he can heal the lepers rash, sores, eczema whatever sort of skin disease or irritation that often got lumped into the category of leprosy.

And before he can even answer the lepers challenge – I say challenge because it is not really a question. He doesn’t say “can you please make me clean, he says, IF YOU CHOOSE you can make me clean. It is almost a dare really. And before Jesus even answers, he first reaches out to this man and touches him in a way that is reminiscent of the way that God’s power was exercised in the Old Testament. He reaches out to this man who has been thrown out of his community because he is unclean, and not fit for human contact with others just in case anyone else gets what he’s got. But here Jesus throws all of that aside and not only reaches out to the leper, risking his own unclean status, and any chance that his disease might be contagious. Jesus then backs that action up with his words. Actions most often speak louder than words. It reminds me of the words attributed to St. Francis of Assisi: “preach the gospel at all times and use words if necessary.”

Jesus is willing to risk everything in order to make this man whole again. He is showing both the leper and the larger community just how God’s kingdom works. Under the current purity system, the lepers touch would render Jesus unclean too. However, in the new order of God’s kingdom, it is Jesus’ touch that renders the leper clean. And Jesus does this our text tells us today, because he is moved with pity. Pity that is often explained as a “yearning in the bowels” or “gut level empathy” from which Jesus acts – we would probably say a “gut feeling” or that “his heart was moved to do this.”

But like Ched Myers, I am drawn to a more difficult reading of the text that hints that it was more than this, that he was motivated not so much out of pity, but out of righteous anger for the situation that this man finds himself in. Here is one of God’s children – a person of faith who has already gone to the priest for help, and has been rejected and sent away because he didn’t meet the criteria marked out in the purity codes. So the priest could not enact the ritual cleansing signifying he was fit to rejoin the larger community – that he could be trusted not to infect the whole lot of them. Jesus is ticked off because of the priestly system that continues to ostracize the leper. So he heals the man, and sends him back to show the priest – likely the same one that rejected him in the first place – that what he is not able to do, or refuses to do, God through Jesus not only is willing to do, but actually has the power and authority to get it done.

And suddenly through Jesus, the gulf that has separated the leper from his friends, family and neighbors, from the community of faith, and even from God disappears. He is healed – cleansed. The word is katharizein – from which we get catharsis – that purging of the psyche that heals from within. This is what the man has been looking for. Check that – on his knees begging for! And so Jesus sends him back to prove his point to the priest. It is not in systems of control that bring new life and transformation, but as people come in contact with the son of God!

As Jesus tells the man to go back, the word that is used is even stronger than simply sending. Jesus casts him out exebelen – the same word used when Jesus cast out the unclean spirit earlier. It is a command – an order to witness to them to what God has done. But instead of evangelizing to the priest – instead of rubbing the priest’s face in his good news, the former leper takes to the streets. So powerful is his encounter with Jesus that the man just can’t follow Jesus’ orders. His joy has taken over and he is spreading it all over town – telling any and all he meets what Jesus has done for him. (Bonnie Bowman Thurston) So contagious is his message that Jesus can no longer preach and teach openly in the towns and cities without being mobbed by the sick, the poor and the outcast. He is forced to let the people come to him in the countryside instead.

As a kid who has grown up in the church, and who at times if I am honest with myself, gets caught up in going through the motions in my faith life, I continue to be amazed at stories like this. And I wonder just how the leper explained what had happened to him as he went around the town?

We were challenged this week by the speaker at our study conference to sum up what we consider to be the gospel in one sentence – have you ever tried to do that? It is actually harder than you think – even for pastors! Maybe more so for pastors because we have to get past all of our fancy theological jargon that when it is spit out, makes even my head spin. This exercise got me thinking that perhaps one of the barriers that we have as we share the story of faith with others is not so much that they think we are crazy, but rather that they just don’t have a clue what we are talking about. We are not speaking their language. Maybe because we are not always so sure ourselves how to talk about it.

And so you gotta love how God works sometimes. No sooner than we had talked about all this during our evening session, than a few of us went out to that “fantastically unclean place” called “the pub,” – which I think served more as our tutorial lab than anything else. And over the course of our evening there, we got to chatting with our server a little. And at one point she asked us what we were doing in Canmore, and we told her that we were pastors in town for a study conference – expecting her to recoil and run away. But after she got over her initial surprise (to which she said “but you’re so normal”!), she came back to the table and asked us why we do what we do.

So what did we do? We hit her with our one liners we had been working on of course! And she didn’t run away – actually, she did the opposte. Since the place was kinda dead, she grabbed a chair and sat down with us and told us her story and commented about how she could use some of that good news right about now. And it opened up a 20 minute conversation in which every two minutes she kept looking at her boss across the room, and saying to us – “ok, I should probably get back to work before I get in trouble”. She never did until we left (with both light hearts and light wallets)!

It reminded me that what Jesus is offers is infectious. The good news is contagious. And we are called to be both recievers and distributors of it as we go about our daily lives. This is the joyful mission that each one of us and as a church are sent out to both experience and proclaim. And it is a joy because deep down we know that: It is the stuff that changes lives – because our lives have been changed in some way. It is the power that transforms broken systems because we have seen it topple governments, oppressive regimes, and abusive relationships. It is the promise that gives us the hope that things can be different when none of the other powers that be can deliver. So, having received this good news for ourselves, let us be contagious sharers of this message and of God’s love to those we meet. Amen.

Sermon for Christmas Day 2011

“What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people.  The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” (John 1:3b-5) NRSV

It is amazing to me how much we are affected by the darkness.  I don’t think that I ever fully appreciated that before Cherie, Tollef and I moved up to Yellowknife last year!  Living south of the 60^th parallel, you enjoy longer periods of daylight even in the winter months. But north of 60, especially as we are just over the hump of the winter solstice, the daylight is incredibly short lived, and even non-existent in places farther north as the sun doesn’t rise at all for many days in a row.  It is almost as if darkness will have the final say. 

The threat of a consuming darkness has not been lost on us throughout the Advent season as we wait for this day. As we wait and watch for the coming of the light, we are inevitably confronted with the darkness that lies within each of us and that persists in our world. 

We wonder – how might the light of Jesus call for a change in our perceptions or world view?  As disciples of Jesus, how might this cause us to live differently? How are we invited to both share that light with others and discover it in ways that we do not always expect?

It may surprise you that Christmas Day is actually celebrated on the same sacred day as an ancient pagan tradition that began a few hundred years after Jesus – as the Romans celebrated the  birthday of the cultic god Sol Invictus – literally the “invincible sun”.  Some scholars believe that the early Christian church chose December 25^th to commemorate Jesus’ birthday (as a more historical date for that is sometime in the spring)  in order to usurp this day from the cult of Sol and point to Jesus Christ as the true Sun of Righteousness.  Knowing this, I suppose that it is ironic that many Christians complain that secular society has tried to replace Christmas once again.

Say what you will about that, there is no denying the powerful imagery that this time of year holds for many people.

In Inuvik each year during their Sunrise Festival in January, the people welcome back the sun after more than a month’s absence.  They set off fireworks, and light a huge bonfire to push back the darkness, and to celebrate that it has not overcome them.  The contrast is brilliant! 

The joy of Christmas takes root as we begin to leave the gloom behind and be moved out of that place of darkness. It doesn’t happen all at once mind you, but sneaks in as little by little, minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day, month by month as the light takes back the darkness – so much so that at first you hardly notice it at all.  But soon it becomes a constant. 

As the days slowly get longer, and measurably get brighter, we give thanks for the ways that God has crept into our world and into our darkness bringing us out into God’s revealing light. 

And the good news of this for us is recorded in Titus is that “when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Saviour appeared, he saved us, not because of any works of righteousness we had done, but according to his mercy…having been justified by the grace of Jesus Christ, we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life. (Titus 3)

This is our gift this Christmas Day and every day. So we gather to give thanks.

“We give you thanks O God for the ways that your light creeps, breaks and explodes into our world.  Let the power of your brilliant love shown to us in Jesus, guide our thoughts, give light to our paths, and be a shining example for us to follow.  In his name we pray.  Amen.”

Sermon for Sunday, Nov. 20, 2011

Matthew 25:31-46                                                         

http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=188896641 

 So recently, our son Tollef has discovered the joy of playing hide and seek.  At various times of the day he is proud to exclaim “I go hide”.  And when he finds his spot – usually dragging mom or dad with him, he calls out “eady or not!”  And the challenge begins.

That in itself is enough to make your day, but it’s only the beginning!  He lies down in his spot, his body almost convulsing out of sheer joy at the prospect of being found.  His giggles giving himself away well before you ever see him.

 And it is all you can do to look the other way and search in just about any other place around the house but the one he is in. Which by the way is always the same spot – underneath the huge stuffed bear on the upstairs landing. Let’s just say he’s consistent if nothing else!

And the first few times we play this are so great. But then by the millionth time we do this, I have to admit that it does get a bit tedious this little game that we play – though I never get tired of Tollef’s laugh when he is found for the millionth time. Each time is like the first for him.

Why am I telling you all of this you might ask? (is anyone asking that?)  Well, this game got me thinking about how God reveals God’s self to us at various times.  It reminds me of the game of cosmic hide and seek that we sometimes find ourselves in.

At one time in the garden of Eden as God walked with Adam and Eve we humans were said to have known God more completely as we walked and talked with God.  But then came the first sin – crunch- and Adam and Eve were ashamed and exposed and they hid from God.  And some say we have tried to hide ever since.  We are consistent if nothing else.

And throughout our history, God has pursued us in an effort to be made known in our lives so that we don’t have to hide any longer, but instead know that through God’s love – forgiveness is there. On this God is consistent if nothing else.

We see this in the way that God even enters into our flesh as one of us. Though not in the way we might expect – God is disguised inside the dark skin of a man from the Middle East, the unassuming son of a blue collared carpenter, camouflaged in a man who some would describe as a glutton and friend of sinners and tax collectors, and who challenged our understanding of what kind of God we should be looking for in the first place!

Martin Luther struggled with this game that God plays.  He talked about the Revealed God and the Hidden God (Deus revelatus/Deus absconditus).

The revealed God being what God chooses to show us (most evidently through Jesus). But Luther also seemed to think that God hides on us, and that act of hiding, is in itself, an act of showing God’s self to us.

It’s as if being hidden and being revealed were two sides of the same coin.  And what we think we know about God is really just a minute fraction of who God really is. There is much about God that is still hidden. Which of course drove Luther nuts!

Luther also believed that, sometimes, God hides from us altogether. And when we feel that God is not among us, when we don’t feel God’s presence, but we feel God’s absence, we could be right. God might not be among us.

Now, Luther didn’t explain why God hides from us. But we assume that it’s not our sin that God hides from because Jesus came to embrace and save sinners. Nor is this hidden-ness a form of punishment because Jesus took on our punishment on the cross. On this Jesus is consistent if nothing else.

For Luther, sometimes God just hides – with no big  pronouncement of “I hide now” or exaggerated action of God toddling up the stairs and onto heaven’s landing exclaiming “eady or not!”

And yet, as we hear this morning, most often, God hides in plain sight – where God through Jesus has always sought to be found – in the people who need God the most.

“Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry, or thirsty, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison?”

What the…Lord, that was you?! And sometimes we are honestly caught off guard at the places and in the faces of those that Jesus dares to be revealed in because we would never expect a king to be found there or in that manner. God wouldn’t dare – and we wouldn’t have even thought to look there. 

It might only be in that future sense as the Son of Man eventually confronts us, that we are surprised at our goatly or sheeply encounters – the things we have done or not done to the least without even really thinking about it.

But the reality is, I think that most times we know exactly where God is.  Because we know that God is consistent if nothing else.  God is where God has always been, revealed as we encounter the poor, the hungry, the stranger, the naked, sick and imprisoned, But most times it is uncomfortable for us to look there.

Sometimes it is all we can do to look the other way and search for God in just about any other place but the constant places God is known to be found. And we do this most likely because we know that it’s not always giggles that we will find – at least not initially – but rather suffering, struggle and self reflection.

Yet when we fail to see God as we encounter the “least of even these,” Jesus reminds us, we risk missing out on seeing the hidden joy of this suffering king who can barely contain himself as he convulses with delight as the hungry are finally fed and given drink, the stranger welcomed, the naked are clothed, the sick and imprisoned cared for.  And the smile of the shepherd as all of his flock begins to live together as one people in this new kingdom that is being created for them – for us – right before our very eyes.

For that is the promise that we are invited to live into. Because what God promises, God is faithful to make good on. On this God is consistent if nothing else. 

As we come to the end of this church calendar year and this section of Gospel readings from Matthew, we are left with these stanch words of Jesus’ final public discourse.  Words that serve as both judgment and promise. 

From here on in Matthew’s gospel tells the story of Jesus’ passion – the plot to kill him, his betrayal and denial, the scandal of the cross for the forgiveness of sins.  This is how our hidden God chooses to reveal the glory of God. 

In our church year, we move into the season of Advent.  A time of waiting for all of what God has promised to come about.  And we remember how the advent of God’s passion has always taken us by surprise as it comes to us in the form of a baby lying in a food trough for animals.  And so how could we expect Jesus’ return to look any different?  God is consistent if nothing else. 

And the good news about that for us is that “the one who will one day come to judge us is the same one who first came to be judged for us. So we trust that Jesus — the one who came, the one who comes, and the one who is coming again — is undeniably and unalterably for us…and all the world.” God is consistent if nothing else. Amen.

(Thanks to Kevin P, David L & Tollef T for your help this week)