Tag Archives: progressive theology

Tangible-atate the Gospel

Posted on by
Reply

Tangibile-atatin the Gospel for Mamma Eternal

One of the joys of being on sabbatical is the opportunity not to preach. I have been a preacher for 13 years. Which means that almost every week I have focussed upon writing a sermon. The drive to dig deeply in order to come up with something to say on Sunday morning is a focus that I both love and hate because it is both joyful and painful. All too often, I find myself sounding like myself. The break from preaching and the need to be creative on demand has allowed me the opportunity to wander off in directions that the weekly sermon demands would never allow the time for. Discovering new forms of expression is marvellous. 

I came across James Forbes via the Living the Questions DVD adult education program and I’ve been meaning to seek him out. His way with words intrigues me. Take a look at this TED talk from 2008 in which Forbes preaches about the Charter for Compassion.  He has a way with words and his phrases break the hold! “Mamma Eternal” is a keeper! I can hardly wait to use it in my own quest to “tangible-atate the Gospel”.

Wade in the Water

Posted on by
Reply

Sweet Honey in the Rock @ Koerner Hall in Toronto

The Divine Feminine – Joan Chittister

Posted on by
Reply

Sister Joan Chittister is a captivating speaker. In this video, recorded at Chautauqua last summer, Sister Joan examines pictures of God and the impact these pictures have had on our lives.

While Preachers Dutifully Ponder the Doctrine of the Trinity, Our Congregations Shrink???

Posted on by
1

This Sunday is Trinity Sunday.  In anticipation, preachers all over the world are dutifully pondering the Doctrine of the Trinity desperately searching for something to say to encourage their congregations.

Preachers will trot out tired old clichés conjuring up images of triangles, shamrocks around, or point to H20’s ability to appear as water, ice, or steam while still maintaining it’s unified essence. Or have you heard the one about the 3 blind men and the elephant in the room. That old chestnut is trotted out by many a desperate preacher struggling to put flesh on the doctrine of the trinity. But for the life of me I can’t see how 1 blind man touching the elephant’s trunk and presuming that there is a tree in the room, while a second blind man catching wind of the elephant’s ear is convinced that there is some sort of giant fan in the room, while a third man grabs hold of the tail and is sure that he has hold of a rope, helps you to conclude that just because they’re all sharing a room with an elephant you can now confess that God is indeed Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever amen. But all sorts of mental gymnastics will be exercised in the vain attempt to make some sort of sense of the doctrine of the Trinity!

On Trinity Sundays, mindful of the fact that trying to explain the doctrine of the Trinity usually leads to heresy: dusty theological books that have not seen the light of day since last Trinity Sunday have been poured over to ensure that the formula’s learned in seminary are repeated correctly and heresy scrupulously avoided. The imaginative among us have attempted to baffle our congregations with our theological intellect, the pragmatic among us have attempted to baffle our congregations with something akin to BS, while the desperate among us have simply tried to survive the Trinity Sunday hoping against hope that no one will notice that we haven’t a clue what we’re talking about.

Perhaps only dear old Dr. Martin Luther possessed the theological integrity sufficient to save a preacher from the perils of preaching on Trinity Sunday. So, before I launch, forth, let me remind you what the instigator of the Reformation had to say on the subject of the Trinity. Martin Luther warned that: “To deny the Trinity is to risk our salvation; to try and explain the Trinity is to risk our sanity.”

I will confess that Martin Luther had much more at stake, literally at stake, than I do, because the truth is that for centuries the punishment for heresy would have found many an ancient preacher burned at the stake. But while the death penalty for heresy has been lifted, the risk to one’s sanity remains.

Now, I will confess that when faced with a particularly difficult theological knot, I prefer to begin by quoting Jesus and not Luther, but alas Jesus remained silent on the issue of the Trinity. So, I did try to find something helpful in the words of the Apostle Paul. But alas, without some really amazing theological gymnastics that are beyond my abilities to comprehend, even the Apostle Paul remains mute on the issue of the Trinity. So keeping in mind Dr. Luther’s dire warning that to,  “To deny the Trinity is to risk our salvation; but to try and explain the Trinity is to risk our sanity.”

Let me remind you that the Trinitarian formula appears in Scripture only once, in Matthew 28, during what is called the Great Commission, when Jesus commands the disciples to go forth, baptizing in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. But the doctrine of the Trinity does not appear in the Bible

– The doctrine of the trinity, as we know it, was first formulated in the fourth century, by a couple of guys named Gregory and a woman called Marcrina.

– The doctrine of the Trinity was then developed over hundreds of years

– The doctrine of the Trinity was at the heart of several wars

– Thousands of Christians were killed because they came down on the loosing side of arguments over the doctrine of the Trinity

– No one has ever been able to adequately explain the Trinity

– Every explanation of the Trinity that I have ever come across includes some form of heresy

By the way, just so we’re clear, I rummaged through some of my previous sermons on the doctrine of the Trinity and I must confess that if this were the twelfth century, an angry mob would be stoking up the fires beneath my feet  because based on things I have proclaimed on various Trinity Sundays a charge of Modalism could very successfully be laid against me, as could a charge of Sabellianism. You might be interested to know, that more traditional preachers than I, will no doubt preach sermons this Sunday which will prove them guilty  of Arianism or at the very least Subordinationism. All of these heresies in a bygone age would have left us with a severe shortage of clergy in the church, as many of us would be smoldering at the stake for our crimes. Deciding who is right and who is wrong, who is in and who is out is a deadly preoccupation of humanity, a preoccupation that the church has not been able to escape.

So, with apologies to Dr. Luther, I’m going to go ahead and risk my salvation by declaring that the doctrine of the trinity is but a feeble attempt to comprehend the incomprehensible mystery of the very nature of our God.  We can echo all the creeds of Christendom with as much confidence as we can muster, and as enlightening as some of those creeds may be, they cannot begin to unravel the mystery of the creator of everything that ever was and ever shall be, nor can they fully describe the magnitude of the revelation provided in the life, death and resurrection of the one we call Christ, and when it comes to the power of the Holy Spirit, all our creeds together cannot tell the story of her wondrous beauty.

The doctrine of the trinity is just a tool to help us along the way, the trinity is not God, nor is God the trinity. The trinity is merely a way to speak of the unspeakable. And yet down through the centuries we have used the doctrine of the trinity as an idol and demanded that we worship the trinity as if it were God’s very self.

We have worried more about believing in the trinity than relating to the very One whose relationship the Trinity attempts to describe. For when it comes down to it, what we know of our God finds expression our attempts to describe God as a relational being. For what is the doctrine of the Trinity if it is not the declaration that God is Creator, Christ and Spirit, intimately connected as One; at God’s very core we find a relationship. This should be our first clue that any understanding of God must begin with relationship. Surely it is more important to experience God than to explain God. Surely it is more important to relate to God than it is to preserve a doctrine that has long since failed to describe God.

You’d think that after nearly 2000 years the Christian church would have learned to be more humble in its declarations about God. And yet, today, as we strive to learn more and more about creation, some things remain out of bounds. The church remains unwilling to revisit long established doctrines, choosing instead to insist that we simply believe, because what was good enough for grandma ought to be good enough for us. And if we should doubt the doctrine of the Trinity then all we need to do is study harder and we will eventually understand. And if we are unwilling to work at understanding the Trinity we should simply trust that folks much smarter than us have figured it out so we should simply stop questioning and simply mouth the words. Let the tired clichés and the worn out illustrations suffice, forget about our questions and simply drink the kool-aid and our doubts will somehow magically disappear. And so together we focus on believing what has been handed down to us. And for a great many people that’s good enough. All we really need to do is believe, to have faith and all will be well. But oh so many more of us have grown weary of the tired insistence on belief; you only have to think of the children missing from our churches to know that our doctrines are failing to engender relationship.

I’d like to be able to say, here just learn this and believe this and all will be well,  all we need to do is figure out more up to date methods to deliver the same old doctrines and your grown children will learn to believe, but  I too have my doubts.   You see I don’t believe that the point of a religion is to engender belief. I believe that the point of religion is much bigger than belief. For if a religion does no help you relate to God or to God’s creatures, or enhance your experience of creation, then religion is not life giving and all its doctrines are but fleeting attempts to deny death.

It is far more important to have a relationship with our God than it is to understand doctrines about God. In so far as the doctrine of the trinity helps us to relate to God then it can be said to be life-giving. When the doctrine of the trinity helps us relate to God’s creatures and to God’s creation, then it can be said to be life-giving. But reduced to a formula that we must believe the doctrine of the trinity runs the risk of inhibiting our experience of God and robbing us of a life-giving relationship with God and with the world that God loves.

I am convinced that the only way to ensure that the doctrine of the trinity remains life-giving is to free it from the confines of the past. Despite it’s fear, the church must re-examine its creeds and confessions, open up our dusty doctrines to the light of the 21st century so that those that fail to enhance our relationship to God and to one another can be given a decent Christian burial and those that nurture our relationship to God and to one another can thrive.

We need to prioritize relationship and experience over ancient creeds and doctrines, least our preoccupation with correct belief causes us to miss an encounter with our God.

Trying to understand the very nature of God, is, when you think about it actually an arrogant thing for simple creatures such as we. We cannot hope to understand the nature of God.  So perhaps the most faithful sermon on the Trinity is one that merely sniffs around the edges of the mystery, hunting for something closer to an experience rather than an understanding.  God is the elusive stranger.

Sometimes it is possible to identify God, before God gets away. But most of the time we only recognize God after God is gone, like the drifter who wants to tell you his story only you do not have time, so you hand him a dollar and walk away.  Or the woman with the tearstained face who disappears while you decide whether to ask her what is wrong; or the bewildered child whose mother scolds him for being alive and whose sorrowful eyes catch yours just as she drags him away. These are the strangers who lay claim to our hearts, although they make no claims for themselves.  In their presence we fail them.  It is only after they are gone that we know who they were.  That is why it is so easy for us to sacrifice them.  We did not know.  How could we have known?  Who expected Christ to show up looking like that?

Is it possible for us to attend to our peripheral vision, to see out of the corner of our eyes, to notice those faint sounds of birdsong in the background, to catch those elusive fragrances, that might well be God, the Holy One, coming to us in ordinary space and matter, longing for an intimate encounter?

Let us be ready to notice the Spirit of God in a burning bush, to turn aside for a moment in order to encounter the mysterious, intimate God who comes to us, so that in the power of the trinity we ourselves may be made holy!

            Heirs with Christ –  inheritors and distributers of all God’s love.

            There you see, I’m not suggesting that we toss it all away.

            Down through the centuries God has revealed so much.

            I’m simply pleading that we walk humbly with our God.

            And revel in the mystery.

In a dusty library years ago, I discovered a pearl about the Trinity, which I treasure. It came from St. Augustine, a 4th century bishop who helped to craft the doctrine of the trinity.

            Augustine’s metaphor for the Trinity is that

            God is:  Lover, Beloved, and Love itself.  

            May we learn to walk humbly with that love.

Beyond Tribalism – 21st Century Pentecost

Posted on by
1

 

Ideas gleamed from Clay Nelson, John Shelby Spong,

John Dominic Crossan and Marcus Borg

The splendid preacher Clay Nelson of St. Matthew-in-the-city, Auckland, New Zealand, opened me up to a new way of seeing Pentecost.  Nelson tells this lovely little story written by fellow Kiwi Judy Parker, entitled simply “The Hat.”

A priest looked up from the psalms on the lectern, cast his eyes over all the hats bowed before him.   Feathered, frilled, felt hats in rows like faces.  But there was one at the end of the row that was different. What was she thinking, a head without hat.  Was like a cat without fur. Or a bird without wings. 

That won’t fly here, not in the church. The voices danced in song with the colours of the windows.  Red light played along the aisle, blue light over the white corsage of Missus  Dewsbury, green on the pages of the Bible.  Reflecting up on the face of the priest.

The priest spoke to the young lady afterwards:  “You must wear a hat and gloves in the House of God. It is not seemly otherwise.”

The lady flushed, raised her chin, and strode out.

“That’s the last we’ll see of her,” said the organist.

 Later:  The organ rang out; the priest raised his eyes to the rose window.  He didn’t see the woman in hat and gloves advancing down the aisle as though she were a bride.            The hat, enormous, such as one might wear to the races. Gloves, black lace, such as one might wear to meet a duchess.  Shoes, high-heeled, such as one might wear on a catwalk in Paris.            And nothing else.

Now some people might ask, “Is this a true story?”  And I’d have to answer that this story is absolutely true!  Now for some that answer might not be enough and they’d want to know, “Did this actually happen?”  Well, I’d like to think so.  But I doubt that it actually happened. But whether it actually happened or not, most of us know that the truth in this story lies in the power of metaphor.

Metaphor, which literally means:  beyond words. The power of metaphor is in its ability to point beyond itself to truths beyond those that are apparent.  And the metaphor in this story points us to buck-naked truths about tradition, worldly power, patriarchy, hierarchy, orthodoxy and many more truths about the very nature of the church itself and religion in general.  And it doesn’t matter whether or not this actually happened or not. What matters is what we can learn about ourselves and our life together from this story.

The heroine in this little story demands to be heard as she puts all her listeners on notice that the Spirit of God is out of the box and wearing a hat.  The story of Pentecost is just as stunning.  Even though we’ve managed to pretty much domesticate the story by literalizing it and insisting that yes indeed Pentecost really did actually happen just as it is described in the Book of the Acts of the Apostles, the story of Pentecost refuses to play by our rules as the power of metaphor turns the Spirit of God loose on our silly notions about history.

Truth is as elusive as it is blatantly obvious and yet we continue to try to deny the paradox of truth. Truth is as colourful as the rainbows that stretch across the sky and yet we continue to try to limit the truth to the simplicity of black and white.             All too often truth’s refusal to fit into our neat little boxes causes us to deny the obvious truth in  favour of a truth of our own creation.

The story of Pentecost is a case in point. For decades historians, New Testament Scholars, and theologians have been telling us that the story of Pentecost is not history.  Like all sorts of stories about the origins of things, the story of the church’s birthday is shrouded in myth and legend. That doesn’t make the story of the church’s beginning at Pentecost any less true, it just means that it isn’t history.

The book of the Acts of the Apostles, was written by the same author who wrote the Gospel According to Luke. We have no idea who this writer was, and the name Luke does not appear on the early manuscripts. The name Luke was applied much latter, by something called “tradition”.  In those days ‘tradition” meant “the church”.  

The Acts of the Apostles represents the voice of someone living in a community at the turn of the first century.  The writer, let’s follow tradition and just call him Luke, the writer known as Luke writes a Gospel also now known as Luke, which tells the story of the life and times of Jesus as known by his community.           Luke also writes the Book of the Acts of the Apostles, which chronicles the story of the early followers of Jesus, who managed to hang together after Jesus was gone and established a movement that changed the world.

Luke writes his account of the founding of this movement out of the context of his community and addresses the needs and concerns of his community.          And in both the Gospel of Luke and in the Book of Acts, the writer makes it clear that he is writing to a character named Theopholous, which in Greek means, Lover of God. Luke addresses his writing to a lover of God and right from the beginning he confesses that he is writing so that you may have faith.  As lovers of God we read these ancient stories so that we may have faith. We do not read them so that we can know the history of events as they actually happened.

Marcus Borg suggests that in reading the stories in the Bible we must ask ourselves two important questions:  1) Why did the writers write the stories that they wrote?  and 2)  Why did they write them the way they wrote them?

When we ask those two questions about the story of Pentecost we begin to see all sorts of truths as we strip away the layers of tradition that have held this story captive to history for far too long. Why did the writer known as Luke write  the story of Pentecost and why did he write it the way he wrote it? 

I suspect that the answer to both of those questions begins to become clear when we pay attention to the story from the Hebrew Scriptures that is often told at Pentecost. Recorded in the Book of Genesis, the story of the Tower of Babel would have been a familiar one to the people of Luke’s community. The story of the chaos that ensues as a result of humanity’s hubris contains truths about tribalism that would have been as familiar to a first century audience as they are to a 21st century audience. 

The perils of tribalism which pits one people against another and one culture against another were ingrained in the religious traditions of the first century.     The writer of Acts uses the story of Pentecost to point to the truth of the Jesus experience. Their experience of Jesus with his radical ideas about a loving God, lead the early followers of the way to a new understanding of faith.          Empowered by Jesus full embodiment of love, the early followers felt compelled to share their experience. Faith did not have to be lived out in fear, even in the face of death. Being faithful was not about being exclusive or tribal, for love knows no boundaries. It wasn’t even about religion which is so often used by the powerful to oppress the powerless. Faith was not about purity but compassion, healing and justice. Faith didn’t need to be destructive if it heightened our awareness that the creation of which we are a part is an interconnected web.

Sadly over the years all too many Christians have seen the story of Pentecost as simply a reversal of the Tower of Babel story. But here we have so much more.      In the Tower of Babel  we have a story speaks to the origins of a kind of chaos that is the result of human arrogance. This chaos leads to disaster. And the response of the people is to adopt a kind of tribalism where eventually only one tribe becomes the chosen people. The chosen tribe then chooses to exhibit a kind of uniformity which defines who is in and who is out. 

Boundaries are established. The religious practice that emerges strives for order and uniformity.  Order is established and the faithful are encouraged to live within the rules. But in the Pentecost story the chaos and disorder is not created by humans but by God. The Pentecost story is about chaos and disorder; about God who is running amok. Boundaries are crossed. Taboos are broken.           Suddenly, like the rush of the wind young people have visions and elders have dreams; dreams and visions that threaten the established order.

Luke’s story speaks directly to his community which has become accustomed to a religion that is a product of its culture; where faith reflects the values of the tribe. Religion is used to give members of the community a sense of who was friend and who was foe. It played to their fear of others who were beyond the tribe. It grounded their xenophobia and ethnocentrism in righteousness.  It served as the glue that told its adherents who they were and who they weren’t.           Religion gave people an illusion of living in an orderly and predictable world.

Outside the boundaries of their religion was a place of chaos. Its inhabitants were judged to be demonic or subhuman. In the early history of Israel those who worshipped gods outside the culture were labeled idolaters. Identifying idolaters gave the faithful of the local religion a target for their contempt and hostility and someone to blame for their disappointments and failures. Along comes Jesus who challenges the status quo along with the powers that be who maintain order by force of might. Violence, greed, and force become the tools to the Pax Romana, which insisted that the way to peace was through force. First you conquer a people, then you wield your power over them to control them so that you can tax them and the status quo is the only kind of peace one can hope for.     And along comes Jesus who points to another way to peace through justice.             People want to believe they want to follow Jesus but their fearful of the chaos that might ensue.  Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t know.          Chaos is frightening.

Into that mix the writer of Luke offers his story of Pentecost which displays the Spirit of God at work in the midst of chaos. The followers of Jesus are calling their communities out of the constraints of the religious practices of their day. 

The Pentecost story reflects the early Christian understanding of Jesus as a leader who didn’t just address the Chosen People but who engaged the Syrophoenician woman, the Centurion, and the Samaritan leper.

Luke, in the telling of the story of Pentecost, already knew that Christianity had spread to the edge of the known world and to its very centre in Rome.    Christianity had already transcended tribe and tradition.  Jesus inspired a religion of the poor and the powerless without an enemy or enmity and yet inclusive in its membership.

Christianity was as outrageous as a woman who wore a hat, gloves, shoes and nothing else. Sadly, it didn’t take long for the early Christians to try to put the Spirit back in the box.

The story of Pentecost shows the Spirit of God out of the box, prancing about in the town square and intoxicating the people with the sheer beauty of her audacity.

Luke’s Pentecost story served to remind those first Christians of the Jesus call to diversity. That call to diversity has the power to contradict the power of the status quo of tribalism that was exemplified in the story of the Tower of Babel.

The followers of the Way are able to declare that in Christ there is no East nor West, no North nor South, no Jew nor Gentile, no man nor woman.

Luke has crafted the story of Pentecost that declares that in Christ there is no longer Parthians, Medes, Elamites, people from Mesopotamia, Judea, Cappodocia, Pontus, Asisa, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the ports of Libya around Cyrene, nor even Romans.  All are one as Christ is One.

In Jesus the followers of the way are challenged to think beyond tribalism, to dream dreams and see visions.

Luke’s Pentecost story calls us to a similar awakening.

An awakening that begs the question:  What kind of Pentecost stories are we called to craft?

Can we 21st century followers of the Way produce Pentecost stories that will boldly declare that we are one with our Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, Sikh and Taoist sisters and brothers, and what about atheists, agnostics and all the poor and the powerless?

I hope that the audacity of God’s Spirit can call us out of our status quo religious practices that keep us from exploring the wonders of the chaos that lies beyond our established religious order.

Imagine a 21st century Pentecost where rather than speaking in languages that we’ve never understood before, we begin to listen to those who we’ve failed to understand before.

Imagine a 21st century Pentecost where Christians, Muslims, Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, Sikhs, Taoists, Baha’is and adherents of all sorts of native religions that we’ve never heard of begin to listen to one another. 

Imagine an audacious Spirit calling us beyond Christianity’s exclusivism.

Imagine a vision of Christianity that celebrates not denigrates the truths of the worlds great religions.

Imagine a vision of Christianity whose first impulse is to listen rather than speak; a Christianity that is willing to share its truths in a spirit of co-operation without an emphasis on conversion.

Imagine a vision of a church full of curious Christians, who share a goal of dialogue that seeks not just to create new Christians, but to learn from other religions so that we can become better Christians and those with whom we listen and speak might become better practitioners of their faiths.

Imagine a vision of Pentecost where the wind and the fire represent God out of the box.

Do we have the courage to strip ourselves of the trappings of status quo Christianity and venture out into the world free of the taboos of tradition? Do we have the courage to listen and learn from the truths of other tribes? Do we have the wisdom to embrace divinely inspired chaos?  Some dreams and visions have to be believed before they can be seen.

If the Reign of God is to be realized in all its chaotic splendour, we must put on a new hat, and strip ourselves of the ethnocentrism and chauvinism that cloaks our faith and walk brazenly down the aisle.

Open to the MYSTERY

Posted on by
Reply

“Infinity always gives me vertigo and fills me up with grace.”

 Bruce Cockburn

 

In pondering MYSTERY we are always indebted to those who have gone before us.

What follows relies on the work of Brian McLaren and process theologian James Murray

A while back, I went to a lecture given by Brian McLaren. Brian McLaren is one of the leaders of what is being called the Emerging Church Movement, which is a movement that is trying to articulate a new kind of Christianity for the 21st century. McLaren told us a story about a friend of his named John who lives in South Africa.

John is a very wealthy successful Zulu who belongs to a Pentecostal church that preaches what is called the prosperity gospel. This is movement that insists that if you have enough faith God will see to it that you prosper and become very wealthy. Well John belongs to a very large Pentecostal church in South Africa that has tens of thousands of member. John is a very wealthy and successful businessman.  And in John’s church if you are rich you gain entry to the inner circle of the pastor and you are called an Armor Bearer.

But after being involved as an Armor Bearer for many years John becomes disillusioned. John says,  “I’m rich but a whole lot of other members of the church who are good faithful people are poor.”  These folks have been doing everything the pastor has taught them to do and for some reason God just isn’t rewarding these poor folks with riches. The pastor keeps laying hands on them and they are not getting rich. It’s worked for me, but I just can’t figure out why it’s not working for them.” So John starts to have doubts about the prosperity gospel and he is deep in doubt.

A couple of years ago John comes to his friend Brian McLaren and he tells him that he has decided to put his faith to a test. John announces that he is going to read Richard Dawkins book the God Delusion. Now for those of you who haven’t heard or read about Richard Dawkins, he is an atheist who has written several books on the fact that God is dead or just an illusion and that people of the 21st century should just get over it. So, John says he’s going to put his faith to the test and read the God Delusion and put it all on the line.  John says that, “If I become convinced by Richard Dawkins, I will give up my faith and become an atheist.”

So John starts reading, and he’s just going to put it all on the line. It’s sort of a good Pentecostal test.  And John tells his friend, “Brian, I’m a good Pentecostal and I know how to hear the voice of the Lord.  And one morning I was taking a shower and the Holy Spirit spoke to me. And the Spirit said, “This man Richard Dawkins speaks the truth.”

So John says to his friend, “Brian what do I do with this? I know the voice of God and God has told me that Richard Dawkins is speaking the truth.”

Well John is a good businessman and he doesn’t have much formal education, but he wants to figure this out. And he says to his friend, “Brian I just had to live with this terrible paradox in my mind. That God has told me that Dawkins is speaking the truth. And months went by and I was in turmoil about this.” And then he said, “It gradually began to dawn on me that the God that Dawkins doesn’t believe in is the God that the missionaries brought to my people. And it was a white god and a colonial god and that god was used to justify putting all of my people in a position of subservience.” And he said that, “It gradually began to dawn on me that Richard Dawkins is killing a god who needs to be killed.” And he said, “The strangest thing happened after this, I found myself loving Jesus Christ more than ever. Because I realized that Jesus was trying to reveal another vision of God, a vision other than the God who kills and destroys and dominates and judges.”

In Jesus’ parable: “people never put new wine in an old wineskin. If they do, the new wine will burst the skin; the wine will spill out and the skin will be ruined. No, new wine must be put into fresh wineskins. People never want new wine after they’ve been drinking the old. They say, ‘We like the old better’.”

Jesus reveals a vision of a God who is beyond our tribal instincts and understandings; a vision of a God who is beyond our fears. And yet, all too often we prefer the old God better. We long for the supernatural being out there separate from the world who from time to time intervenes in the world; that old God who is out there and who can’t be known directly, but only believed in; that old God who sits waiting on a cloud for us to die so that he can judge us and forgive us and reward us. We like the old wine better than the new wine.  And we have these old wine skins so we try putting the new wine that Jesus brings in those old skins, hoping that they will contain it. But the new wine burst the skins and pours out all over the place.

It’s the 21st century and nobody uses wine skins anymore. Why last year when we toured the vineyards of Niagara we learned that nobody’s using cork anymore. The best of the new wine comes to us in screw-top bottles. We’ve moved on and we’ve learned all sorts of things about creation, and that knowledge of creation has expanded our vision of God in ways our ancestors could never have imagined. It’s time to let the old vision of God die.

It’s time to open ourselves to what Christ has and is revealing to us about a vision of God that moves beyond our fears; a vision of God that is reflected in the cosmos as we are beginning to understand it; a vision of God that enhances our knowledge of God and calls forth a spirituality in us that sustains us in our daily living; a vision of God that helps us to experience God.

By peeling back the layers of the tradition of the Church, by unpacking the generations of theological doctrine, scholars are beginning to see a vision of God that Jesus spoke of. The new vision revealed to us in Christ, is one that reflects the reality that, “God is in the world and the world is in God and God is more than the world.” This is a vision of a relational God; a God who is intimate with the world.

We may long for the all-powerful King God, who with the stroke of his arm imposes his will upon the world, but who among us can be intimate with such a god. Is such an all-powerful God even capable of intimacy or would it be like you or I trying to caress an amoeba.

The ancient mystics found in the wisdom literature of the Hebrew Scriptures the vision of God that Jesus lived and died to reveal. They found a vision of God with us, who is compassionate and directing, using our freedom and responsibility, and calling us to use these for the good of others as well as ourselves. A vision of God that emphasizes that, although God is always an important factor in what happens, God does not control history. God is in us and we are in God but we are also members one of another, and our lives are interwoven with the wider natural context of creation as well.

God’s power is relational power as opposed to unilateral power. Unilateral power is by nature coercive—imagine the old god, the cosmic moralist, and ruling like an absolute king. This image is of a God who gives, but does not receive; acts but does not listen; demands but does not compromise; this image of God makes spirituality difficult because it ignores our identities as God’s beloved creatures, it ignores our desires.

The vision of God that Christ reveals is of a God whose power is relational, a God who gives, but also receives, acts but also responds, has a vision but is open to change and transformation. Christ reveals an image of God who creates and gives freedom and creativity to creation. Freedom and creativity are intrinsic to each of us and relational power works to value that by offering a dream or aim to each of us. The future is created out of response and anticipation. The idea of relational power is dependent on diversity, actually welcomes diversity, and offers novelty to each nano second of experience.

Christ’s image of God affirms that God has a vision, appropriate to each moment of experience and, in the broadest sense, for the vast expanses of planetary and cosmic history. God is omnipresent, in all things so there are no God forsaken places. In each moment God presents the world with possibilities. God calls us into God’s dream of the future; a dream of peace and justice and peace for all God’s creation.

If we are in God then what we do matters.  What we do and who we are impacts God. What we do can limit God, but can never defeat God. For in each moment the dream is revised and offered back to us. We can refuse but God does not stop, for there are some who listen and they will guide us. God leads us by persuasion and Christ empowers us by expanding our freedom to be what God is calling us to be, and the Spirit lives and breathes in with and through us.

All of creation is interconnected and intimately related to the Creator.  This expansive vision of God cannot be stuffed into the old wine skins of the institution. New ways of worshipping, new ways of praying, new ways of understanding will move us beyond the old image of God which has soured and turned to vinegar in those old wine skins.

Images of God are but pale reflections of God. Worshipping images of God is a problem as old as time itself.  Such worship has an ancient name. It’s called idolatry. We are called to worship God, not a pale reflection of God. So, our worship will always be incomplete for we peer through a glass darkly. So let us worship with humility, trusting Christ to show us the way.  Let us worship together, mindful that our words and rituals will fail to capture the wonders and mystery of our God, but open to the possibility that together we might capture a glimpse of God or feel the touch of God, or hear the love of God, or recognize the gifts of God as we worship together.

Let us always be prepared to let an image of God die. For we are a people who claim the power of resurrection and we know that in death there is new life. God will come to us again and again, touching, caressing, nudging, persuading, cajoling, imploring, healing, soothing; sometimes shouting, sometimes whispering, often just embracing.

God will be who God will be.  YAHWEH.

Our images of God will come and go, but God remains steadfast. The new wine that comes to us in the life of Christ brings us a foretaste of the feast to come; a taste that reminds us of our connectedness to God and to one another; a sacred connectedness.

So let our prayers open us to the reality of that connection. Let our deeds reflect the confidence that our freedom to act can change the world. Let us be about ushering in the reign of God that Jesus taught. A reign of justice and peace, where each one of God’s children is treasured as God’s beloved.

Let us live with confidence trusting that God is the source of our being.

Let us walk together trusting that God is the ground of our being.

Let us be all that we were created to be.

Jesus said over and over again, in words and in deeds: “Do not be afraid.”

So let us have the courage to drink the new wine that Christ offers and if it tastes a little strange to our palates, drink again, let the flavor move us to a new understanding, a new way of relating, a new way of being.

Let us open ourselves to the reflections of God that are all around us – open ourselves to the God who lives within us.

THE RESURRECTION OF MARY – An Idle Tale

Posted on by
1

St. Mary of Magdala the Apostle to the Apostles

As our Easter celebrations continue, the readings for this coming Sunday quickly move our attention to the story of Thomas.  Poor old doubting Thomas.  It’s the same every year.  Thomas’ doubts greet the faithful on “low Sunday”.  But before you let Thomas’ doubts capture Easter’s hope, consider exploring the resurrection of Mary.  Perhaps my not-so-long-ago encounter with a visiting New Testament scholar will entice you to follow Mary out of her tomb and beyond the streets to her place at the head of the fledgling community that became the church: 

He just said it for the third time! “Harlots!” He keeps calling them “harlots”, while I rack my brains to come up with one harlot. Then he points to the text and his charges become clearer, he says, “she is a “prostitute!”

My carefully reigned in anger is unleashed. “Where?  Where?  Where? Show me where it says this woman is a prostitute!”

As he refers to the Gospel text and insists that, “It is there, right there in the text”,

I want to scream, I want to cry, I want to wipe the bemused expression from his face. I want to rub his nose in the damned text. Instead, I begin the uneasy process of reigning in my anger. I slow my speech, I try to erase the tremor from my voice and I ask him to, “Show me, show me where it says this woman is a prostitute.”

He consults his text and says, “a woman in the city who was a sinner.”

“A sinner not a prostitute.”  I respond.

He insists, “Yes a prostitute.”

“Where?” I ask.

Again he insists, “A woman who was a sinner.”

I demanded to know, “Where does it say she was a prostitute?”

He insists, “The author means that she was a prostitute.”

I lose control, “How do you know?  What words does the author use to say that his woman was a prostitute? Show me in the text where it says she was a prostitute?”

He still doesn’t get it, “What do you mean? It is clear that this woman was a prostitute.”

Once again I push, “Show me.  Show me where?”

He continues to say, “She was a woman from the city who was a sinner.”

I know that the text says that, so I implore him to tell me, “The Greek… What does the Greek say?”

He replies, “amartolos”.

I push, “Does that mean prostitute?” We both know that it does not.

He replies, “Sinner. But the context clearly shows that she was a prostitute.”

Still pushing I ask him to “Show me.  Show me how the narrative says this woman was a prostitute. Show me where it says her sins were sexual.             Show me where it says so in the narrative.”

He says, “It’s clear.”

Clearly we disagree, so I try again, “Clear to you.  Show me. Show me!”

As he fumbles through the pages, I offer him a way out, “Okay.  Even if I concede the point that her sins were sexual, show me where it says that these sexual sins were nothing more than lust or adultery, show me where it says that she was a prostitute.  Show me!”

He couldn’t show me.  It’s simply not there.

Nowhere in the New Testament does it ever say in Greek or in English that Mary of Magdala is a prostitute.  But over and over again scholars, theologians, popes, preachers, and dramatists, have continued to cast Mary of Magdala as a prostitute.  

In the years that have transpired since than day in seminary, when a visiting New Testament scholar insisted that “the context clearly shows that she was a prostitute,” I’ve delighted in being able to participate in the phenomenon of Mary’s resurrection as the first Apostle.

I’ve gobbled up all the many books that have recently been written about the woman commonly known as Mary Magdalene. Some of them have been great scholarly texts like Jane Schaberg’s tome entitled “The Resurrection of Mary Magdalene.” While others have been little more than a salacious romp like Dan Brown’s:  The Davinci Code. But whether its scholarly speculation on the nature of Mary’s leadership in the Early Church or scandalous speculation on her sexual exploits with none other than Jesus himself, what these books hold in common is their ability to touch an insatiable curiosity about this enigmatic biblical character whose feminine attributes have ruffled the cassocks of those patriarchs of the priestly persuasion for centuries.

The recent resurrection of Mary has offered up portraits of a character whose historical roots go all the way back to a relationship with Jesus of Nazareth. And that relationship situates Mary at Jesus’ right hand. Now you’d think that someone whom all four gospels declare to be so very close to Jesus, ought to be someone your hear about in the church all the time.  You’d think that someone who the gospels record as having supported Jesus fledgling ministry out of her own resources, someone who if the gospels are to be believed, followed Jesus all the way to the cross and to whom the risen Christ first appeared and who is the first to be sent by Christ to proclaim the good news of the resurrection, you’d think that such a someone would be heralded down through the centuries, from pulpit to pulpit across the length and breadth of Christendom as the First Apostle. For indeed the literal definition of apostle is “one who is sent”. And if the gospels are to be believed,  Mary was sent by none other than the Risen Christ, so you’d think she would be honored by the very church that professes to follow Christ.  

But there’s just something about Mary….  that has made priests and preachers down through the centuries abhor her.  That the historical evidence clearly points to Mary’s role as a leader, perhaps the foremost leader of the first, fledgling followers of Jesus Christ, has not seemed to help Mary’s case. Indeed, it may be that her leadership position as the Apostle to the Apostles, the first witness to the resurrection and the first to proclaim that Christ is alive, is the very thing that set the proverbial cat among the priestly pigeons.

Now I know that there are those who would say that the swirling conspiracy theories that abound around any discussion of Mary are little more than the rumblings of ill-advised detractors who seek to undermine the teaching authority of the church.  But the evidence is clear that dear old Pope Gregory the Great, whether it was by accident or design actually misrepresented the Scriptures when he pontificated in a way that only popes can, about a woman’s sexuality. That this particular woman happened to be a close confidant of the one his holiness Pope Gregory called, “Lord and Saviour” did not save her from falling (pardon the pun) falling prey to his holiness’s foibles as he confused Mary Magdalene with the woman caught in adultery and made the perilously, presumptuous leap from adultery to prostitution.  And low and behold for 14 centuries after Gregory’s not so great condemnation, Mary has remained relegated to the ranks of those whose bodies are bought and sold for the sake of those who care little for the female gender. And despite biblical and historical evidence to the contrary, Mary has been denied the titles that befit her rank.

But if you want to believe that it is merely a coincidence that the denial of Mary’s rank coincides with the church’s adamant denial down through the centuries that women could ever hope to enter the ranks of the priesthood, well I’m sure that God will forgive you, I’m just not sure Mary or her sisters will.

So what do the scriptures tell us about the disciple whom Jesus loved?             Well for starters Mary was a woman whom Jesus healed.  The gospel according to Luke tells us that:

“With Jesus went the twelve, as well as some women he had healed of evil spirits and sickness;  Mary of Magdala, from whom Jesus had cast out seven demons; Joanna, the wife of Herod’s steward Chuza; Suzanna; and many other women who were contributing to the support of Jesus and the Twelve with their own funds.”

Evil spirits and sickness; 7 demons, no mention of sex.  No mention of prostitution. Now I don’t know about you, but if a prostitute showed up at your church tongues would be wagging.  And whoever wrote the gospel of Luke was more than capable of passing on a sexual tidbit or two. In fact just before he tells us about the women who support Jesus’ ministry, the writers tells the tale of a woman caught in adultery. But the writer never mentions that Mary was a prostitute.

Now there are some who insist that Gregory the not so great was simply confused by this story and so we should understand that it was an easy mistake to make. But to accept this is to accept that adultery and prostitution are the same thing. Now I get that popes are not well versed in matters of sex, but sadly that’s never stopped them from pontificating.

What irks me more is that a 20th Century New Testament scholar, who ought to know better, could suggest that adultery and prostitution are the same thing or indeed that one woman is the same as the next.

Okay, I’ll admit that I have an ax to grind. Many women do. But can you blame us?

Gentlemen.  I know that I have the rare privilege of serving in ministry with the most enlightened generation of men any woman has had the privilege of serving. You guys are great! So, please don’t hear this as some sort of angry tirade against men. Because sadly, the attitudes that have confined Mary to walking the streets at night are not confined to men. The entire church culture is steeped in antiquated attitudes that will take all of us, women and men together, decades to recover from.

But recover we will.  We will recover the witness of St Mary of Magdala, whose dedicated faith in Jesus, helped her to follow Jesus, despite the fact that all of the Twelve Disciples abandoned him, Mary stayed and followed Jesus all the way to the foot of the cross and beyond. Even in her grief, while the disciples remained locked behind closed doors because they were afraid, Mary ventured out to perform with her ointments ready, not knowing how she would be able to roll the stone away, only knowing that they could not fail to do what she thought would be the last loving act for her beloved Jesus.

It is long past time for the church to celebrate the resurrection of Mary of Magdala, the Apostle to the Apostles. 

Mary faithfully ventured forth, not knowing how; only knowing that she must.  And it was Mary who recognized in the face of someone she thought was just a gardener; Mary recognized the face of Christ. In Mary Magdalene we see a woman whose love of Jesus pushed her to keep going in the face of torment and death. It was Mary’s love of Jesus that sent her into the garden alone. Even though she though that her beloved Jesus was dead and gone, her love helped push her forward and she discovered that everything old has been made new through love.

So, looking back to Mary, I wonder what it would take for us to proclaim, “I have seen Christ”?  Where can we find God in our lives and thereby find new life, new hope, new love?  Where can we find what Mary found; Mary who when she found this new thing, was able to go on to found a community of followers of Christ who endured despite the odds against them.  A community who although their writings were suppressed by the powers that be, they could not be kept silent. A community whose gospel lay buried for centuries, and whose restoration preserves the traditions if not the words of Mary who encourages us down through the centuries with these words:

“Do not weep and be distressed nor let your hearts be troubled. For Christ’s grace will be with you all and will shelter you. Rather we should praise Christ’s greatness, for Christ has joined us together and made us true human beings.”(Gospel of Mary and no I won’t supply the exact reference, in the hope that you might just read the entire Gospel)

Mary saw the risen Christ in the face of a gardener. Were can we find the face of Christ? Can we begin to see the face of Christ in the human beings that surround us?  Perhaps when we begin to share Mary’s faith that the risen Christ can bee seen, we will begin to see the ace of Christ in those around us; in face of the stranger we meet on the road, in the face of the homeless man as we sit and share a meal with them, in the face of a child we reach out to lift up out of poverty, in face the woman upon whose shoulders we stand, in the face of our opponent as together we struggle for understanding, in the face of our enemy as we work for peace, in the face of our tormentors as we strive for justice, in the face of the sick as we seek healing, and in the face of the poor as we offer aid.

When we can look into the face of those we meet and see the face of Christ then perhaps we can follow in the footsteps of Mary and all the world will know by our love, that we too follow Christ.

St. Mary of Magdala, the first Apostle, the Apostle to the Apostle, the one in whom the Risen Christ entrusted the good news of eternal life.

May the power of Mary’s witness inspire you to see the face of Christ in the world.

PALM SUNDAY SERMON – An Inconvenient Messiah

Posted on by
3

Palm Sunday Sermon Audio  here

Palm Sunday Worship Bulletin here  to be printed double-sided

LENTEN SERMON SERIES: ANCIENT WISDOM MODERN PRACTICES

Posted on by
Reply

LENT FIVE – DREAMING: NIGHTMARES & VISIONS

All Shall Be Well Julian of Norwich

Click here to listen to the SERMON:  Lent 5 March 25 2012

Click here to download the Worship Bulletin:  to be printed double-sided

Ash Wednesday – Embracing Eternity

Posted on by
Reply

Click here to listen to the worship service:  Ash Wed Service

Click here to download the worship bulletin Ash Wednesday Feb 22 2012

TRANSFIGURATION – Looking back at the way forward.

Posted on by
Reply

Thirteen years ago, I travelled to Newmarket to preach for the first time at Holy Cross Lutheran Church.  It was Transfiguration Sunday and I was preaching for Call.  I knew that the following Sunday the Congregation would gather to vote on whether or not to call me as their pastor.  I’ve been serving as the Pastor of Holy Cross for almost thirteen years and over the years the people of Holy Cross have nourished and challenged me and transformed me into a pastor.  What follows is a transcript of the sermon I preached on that long ago Transfiguration Sunday.  Old sermons reveal our old selves.  While my theology has changed over the years and I would not preach this sermon in the same way now,  I treasure the memory of that hopeful candidate for call.  To the people of Holy Cross:  Thank-you for transfiguring me!  Shalom!

           When I was a teenager, I was always in a hurry.  I wanted to see and do everything there was to see and do.  When I was nineteen, I knew that I just had to get out there and see what the world had to offer.  So with nothing more than a backpack, a three month Euro-rail pass, and eight-hundred dollars in travellers cheques, I boarded an airplane bound for Amsterdam. 

            I was searching for adventure and I was convinced that Europe held the excitement I was looking for. Inside my backpack was the book that would make it all possible.  Europe on Ten Dollars a Day.  I was determined to make my eight-hundred dollars stretch the length and breadth of Europe.  I was going to see and do it all!  It wasn’t easy.  In fact when I look back on it now, it seems like such a lot of hard work.  Up early in the morning sightseeing all day long. Meeting new people.   Fighting my way through the crowds of tourists.  Searching for cheap places to eat and sleep. 

            After two months of travelling from one European city to the next, I just couldn’t face one more castle or museum.  I figured that it was time to get away from the cities so I headed for the Alps. After a long train ride from Munich, I arrived in the Swiss town of Interlaken.  There I boarded a coggle train that would take me to the Alpine village of Grunewald.  The train was filled with tourists anxious to fill their rolls of film with pictures of the mountains, but it was overcast and there were no mountains to be seen. 

            When I arrived in Grunewald, I was told that the youth hostel was only about three kilometres from the station, so I and several other young backpackers that I had met on the train decided to walk to the hostel.  What we didn’t know was that the hostel was three kilometres straight up the side of a mountain.  As we trudged up the mountain we were embarrassed by the speed with which villagers three times our age passed us by.  Despite our youth, the Swiss were much more adept at climbing than we were. 

            When we finally arrived at the hostel there was much complaining about how tired we were.    We were exhausted.  Tired of the demands of travelling.  Too tired to be impressed by the fact that here we were, in a Swiss chalet in the middle of the magnificent Alps.  It was only two-o’clock in the afternoon, but we collapsed onto our beds in the dormitory and promptly fell asleep. 

            I remember waking before any of the others in the room.  From my bed I could see out the window.  The sky was still overcast.  But, I was too weary to even be bothered that I couldn’t see the mountains.  I lay there blankly staring as the clouds drifted by.  Then something seemed to flash by the window.  Out of nowhere there appeared a magnificent snow-covered mountain peak.  It hit me like a flash and then it was gone.  It happened so fast that I wasn’t sure whether or not I had actually seen the mountain or just imagined it. 

            I knew that the Eiger Mountain should be just outside the window behind the clouds.  I had seen pictures of the Eiger in travel brochures.  I had even seen the movie the Eiger Sanction and marvelled as Clint Eastwood navigated the Eiger’s steep slopes.  But had the clouds really opened up or had I just imagined the mountain It was only a moment.  A moment alone.  A moment that lingers still, to this day.  Imagination or reality?  It doesn’t matter.  The effect was the same.  That moment transformed me from a weary traveller into an energetic explorer. 

            The disciples had been travelling with Jesus for quite some time.  They had walked the length and breadth of the arid Judean wilderness.  They had listened as Jesus proclaimed that the Reign of God was near.   They heard him declare good news to the poor, release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind and freedom for the oppressed.  They watched as he healed the sick and drove out demons.  They listened as Jesus told parable after parable that threatened to shake up the world as they knew it.  They felt the sting of Jesus’ rebuke when they failed to understand.  And still they followed this itinerate preacher as he trudged through the desert.

            They felt the sweltering heat of the mob as crowds pressed in upon them, bringing their sick and lame to Jesus.  They felt the penetrating heat of the religious officials who rebuked him.  The pressure was on Jesus’ followers to produce proof that this Jesus of Nazareth, a carpenter’s son, was really who he said he was.

            In the middle of all this, Jesus took time out.  Jesus took Peter, James and John and together they left the demands of the anxious crowds behind and they climbed up a high mountain, by themselves.

            On top of that high mountain, something hit them with a flash and was gone.   They seemed to come out of nowhere, and before the disciples could focus and draw it all in, they were gone. Was it really Moses, and Elijah too, that they saw there with Jesus? 

            They all agreed that they had seen the same thing.  And that voice — or was it thunder?– that exploded from the clouds and left their ears ringing.              “This is my Son, my Chosen, listen to him!” As they descended the mountain, the voice still echoed in their ears, “Listen to him…listen to him…listen to Jesus.” 

            It was only a moment away from the press of the crowds, but it was a moment that would linger in their minds and hearts forever.   A mystical moment.  An intense and vivid encounter with the holiness and radiance of an epiphany.  And the voice from the cloud echoed in the disciples’ ears, Listen.

             Breakfast tastes incredibly good when you eat it in a Swiss chalet surrounded by friends you have only just met.  People from all over the world with just two things in common: youth and an incredible thirst for adventure.  There was only one thing for us to do.  We had to get a closer look. 

            So about a dozen of us decided to climb to the top of what was called the Oberaletschgletscher  so that we could get a better look at the Eiger. We had been assured by the hostel manager that we could easily walk to the top of the glacier that lay adjacent to the Eiger and from their the view would be magnificent. 

            So right after breakfast we set off; new found fiends from the farthest reaches of the earth.  Canada, South Africa, Tokyo, England, Finland, Australia,  New York and California, and there wasn’t a real climber in the bunch.

            The first part of the journey was pleasant enough.  The alpine meadows were delightful and the conversation was playful.   The switch back trail was a bit more of a challenge as our calf muscles began to feel the strain.  But when we reached the cliffs, I wondered if we were up to the challenge.  Before us lay a series of cliffs into which the Swiss had embedded a series of wooden ladders.  My fear of heights began to surface.  But I was determined to give the first cliff a try.  So one by one we began to climb. 

            Each rung of the ladder was a challenge and I resolved never to look down.   As I climbed hand over fist, step by step, I kept my vision firmly fixed on the butt that was up ahead of me and I forced my self up the cliff one rung at a time. 

            When all of us had safely negotiated the first ladder, several people suggested that perhaps we were overreaching ourselves. Maybe the Oberaletschgletscher was more of a climb than we could handle.  But the keeners in the group encouraged us to go on. 

            After we had slowly made our way up about half a dozen ladders, there was more dissension in the ranks.  But we had come this far and so we headed towards the next ladder.  It was a doozy.  We moved ever so slowly.  I resolved that I had had enough.  Once I got to the top of this ladder, I wasn’t going to go any higher. 

            As I scrambled to the top I was relieved that my climb at least was over. My legs were a little shaky as I straightened up and took a look around.  It took my breath away.  There we were on top of a plateau opposite the Eiger.  We had made it to the foot of the Oberaletschgletscher.  The view was magnificent.  I was awe-struck. 

            Our once talkative little group, was silent as each of us tried to take it all in.  I found a spot of grass and sat down.  The air was fresh and clear, the sun burned bright, and the snow glistened as though it were a sea of diamonds. 

            Over-whelmed by the beauty, no one spoke a word.  I wish I could share the wonder of that moment with you.  It was a glimpse of God’s creative power and majesty.  Everywhere I looked I saw the evidence of God’s grace.  It was truly a once in a life-time mountaintop experience.   One of those rare moments when you are totally conscious of the presence of God. One of those moments that has the power to transform you.

            In some ways it was easier for Jesus’ followers.  They were given a glimpse of God’s power, majesty and grace that I envy.  God’s glory was revealed to them in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. Theirs was a first hand experience.  To them was given a vision.  A vision in which Jesus was transformed and God revealed that this itinerate preacher from Nazareth is indeed the Christ; the one sent to proclaim the Reign of God. They heard the voice that spoke from the cloud, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased.  Listen to him!”  They heard Jesus declare good news to the poor, release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind and freedom for the oppressed.  Their vision made it absolutely clear to them just who Jesus was and the voice from the cloud made it absolutely clear just what it was they were supposed to do:  “Listen to him!”

            There are days when I wish that it could be just as clear for us.   I wish that we too could see God’s glory revealed just as clearly as Jesus followers did.              I wish that we too could have a vision and that a voice would tell us just what to do.  Not many of us will ever have it spelled out so clearly.  But as I remember my own mountaintop experience, I realize that the voice from the cloud continues to rumble and pound and echo down through the centuries and that if we listen we can hear it today. But in order to hear it, we must take the trouble to listen.              To have the mountaintop experience we must first climb the mountain.  Like the followers of Jesus we must set aside the demands of our life in the world and follow Jesus. 

            Today, more than ever, we need to leave our work behind, put down our paperbacks, turn off our TVs, shut down our computers, get away from the demands of our lives and listen. 

            Stop and listen to the voice of God.  Take the time, clear our calendars and pause.  Be still and know God.   The disciples were indeed fortunate to have Jesus in their midst.  But we too are fortunate.  God revealed God’s self to the disciples in the person of Jesus of Nazareth.  And we can look to the Gospel to hear the Word as it was revealed by Jesus. 

            But God’s revelation didn’t end with Jesus.  The revelation of God’s grace continued through the resurrection of Christ.  And by the grace of God, Christ comes to us through our sisters and brothers.  Today the voice continues to echo from the cloud.  God is here, in this place, present with you and with me in worship and in prayer.   God comes to us in Word and in Sacrament.  Be alert and ready to listen. 

            Don’t miss an opportunity to see the beauty of creation in the faces of the Creator’s daughters and sons.    Be alert and ready to listen.  Don’t miss an opportunity to hear God speak through the Scriptures.  Listen to the prayers.  Listen to the hymns.  Listen to the voice.  Listen.   And remember that listening is not a passive activity.  To listen to someone, really to listen, means to enter into a loving, caring relationship, where our actions are faithful, where what we do comes from what we hear, where we respect and value the insights and ideas of another, where we listen to another’s wisdom and foolishness, to another’s pain and joy.  And when we refuse to listen, the relationship is soon broken.

            Listen and hear the voice of God.  God’s Word comes to us with power and with authority.  When Jesus speaks to us through the Gospels, it may come to us as a great revelation, as if spoken for the first time, spoken only to you.  Listen to Jesus!  Hear God’s word of grace and comfort and forgiveness.  Hear God’s word of challenge and commitment.  Hear God’s word of law and command.              Hear Jesus’ passionate words of love and acceptance spoken clearly to you .  Be alert and ready to listen.  Be watchful and attentive.  Be ready to absorb all the sights and sounds of Gods grace and mercy.

            On a mountaintop in Switzerland, the warmth from the sun woke me from my slumber.    My eyes tried desperately to adjust to the vivid colours.  Before me stood the Eiger. I looked out across picture post card Switzerland and I marvelled at the glory and majesty of God’s creation.  Slowly I became aware of my travelling companions. 

            We had gathered together just a few hours earlier.  We came from the farthest reaches of the earth and each of us felt the wonder of the moment.  There on the top of a mountain a rag tag group of travellers was transformed by a glimpse of God’s glory. 

            Without words we began to dig around in our daypacks for something to eat.  With little or no preparation we created a feast from what we were able to scrounge together.  Out of one pack came two apples, out of another a crust of bread, an orange, a banana, a few Swiss chocolate bars and even the remains of a bottle of red wine.  In silence we passed around the ingredients of our feast. 

            I was conscious of God’s presence with us as we enjoyed this holy communion.  Together we held on to the splendour of those moments.  I don’t think that any of us wanted it to end.  God’s glory was revealed at the transfiguration and the disciples received a glimpse of the power and majesty of God.  It was a moment that transformed the disciples forever. 

            Glimpses of the divine splendour of God come to each of us in different ways.  These glimpses of Gods power and majesty are not confined to mountaintops.  Some glimpses come to us in a moment of prayer, or through a word of Scripture, or in the midst of music or praise.  Still other glimpses come to us through a tender word from a friend, a gentle touch of a lover, a word of praise from a parent or a grateful look from a child. 

            God’s revelation of God’s love comes to us in all sorts of moments.  Be alert and attentive.  Be ready to draw in the moment and make it your own.  Be alert and listen.  Enjoy and be nourished by these moments, because just like the disciples of Jesus we too must come down from the mountain.   Because the one to whom we listen to in these moments is the one who, proclaims that the Reign of God is near.  The one who we listen to has anointed us to bring good news to the poor.  The one who we listen to sends us  to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free.  The one whom we listen to nourishes us on the mountaintop and walks with us down into the valleys. The one whom we listen to transforms us into the beloved children of God.

            This sisters and brothers is the Gospel of our God.  Amen.

 

 

PRAYER to a Super-Natural Deity or a Panenthistic God?

Posted on by
1

click here to listen to the sermon preached at Holy Cross on January 15  Prayer sermon 2