We Praise You, O God: Reflections on Harvest Thanksgiving

 

BAS Harvest Thanksgiving III [i]

12 October 2025

 

Saint Thomas Anglican Church

Chilliwack BC

 

We praise you, O God.

            During my first year of theological studies, a story circulated among the students about the harrowing experience of a recent graduate.  He had been travelling in a small two-engined plane to a remote mountain community when both engines stopped working.  The plane immediately began to dive towards the ground in an area where surviving the crash was very unlikely.

 

            As the plane continued in its dive, the priest began to pray – for himself, for the other passengers and the crew and for the families who would have to deal with the loss.  But the expected did not happen.  The pilots were able to restart the engines, and the aircraft was able to land safely at its destination.

 

            The priest’s seatmate had heard the quiet prayer the priest was reciting as the plane was in trouble.  It was only after being asked what he was praying that the priest realized he had been reciting the Te Deum laudamus, an ancient hymn of praise and thanksgiving:

 

We praise you, O God,

we acclaim you as Lord;

all creation worships you,

the Father everlasting.

To you all angels, all the powers of heaven,

the cherubim and seraphim sing in endless praise:

Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of power and might,

heaven and earth are full of your glory. [ii]

 

            This is not exactly the first prayer that would come to my mind in such a moment, but it says something about the character of this priest.  Even when facing death, his first instinct was to praise God and to give thanks for all that is, seen and unseen, earthly and heavenly.  His choice of this hymn to be his final words in this life echo the spirit of Paul:

 

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.  Let your gentleness be known to everyone.  The Lord is near.  Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.  And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. [iii]

 

The words we use are more than sounds; they are tools by which we accomplish God’s purposes for us and for all creation.

 

Gratitude for a windfall

            The English philosopher of language, J. L. Austin, pointed out seventy-five years ago that we use language to do things as well as to express ideas and emotions.  We use language to make promises as well as to share thoughts, to assert authority as well as to nurture relationships.  What we say and how we say it matters.  Words matter because we use them to build up and to tear down, to be life-giving and to be life-denying.  Our language shapes our very identity as individuals and communities.

 

            Today we gather to observe our annual Harvest Thanksgiving and, in typical Anglican fashion, we do so by celebrating the eucharist.  At the heart of the word ‘eucharist’ is the Greek word charis.  We often translate this word with ‘grace’ or ‘gift’, but these words fall short of giving the full meaning.  Charis means ‘a gift given by someone who is under no obligation to give a gift to another person who has done nothing at all to deserve a gift’.  I think that the closest word we have in English to charis is ‘windfall’.

 

            We are here today to acknowledge that everything we have is gift.  Yes, I know that we all work hard and that we are proud of accomplishments, but one of the abiding sins of our world is a lack of humility.  The humility that I am speaking about is the recognition that we are all part of an inter-locking web of human and non-human activity.  There is no such thing as a self-made person and no one is truly independent of other people.  We are inter-dependent upon each other and upon the mystery of a creation we did not bring into being.

 

            I believe that the only attitude that is life-giving in such a world is one of gratitude.  To celebrate the eucharist is to give thanks and praise for the gift of “a world full of wonder”. [iv]  And that world of gift and wonder includes the lands and buildings that previous generations have entrusted into our care.  But our gratitude is to be more than words uttered; gratitude requires action.

 

            So some more words to guide our praise and thanksgiving:  mission, clear-headedness and commitment to the long haul.

            

We are a people with a mission.

            God is at work in the world and we, as baptized disciples of Jesus, are co-workers with God in this urgent work of re-creation, reconciliation and renewal.  This Parish and the many others throughout the Diocese who are discerning how best to be faithful stewards of their resources begin by asking important questions:

 

·      What is the most urgent work God is doing in the world today?

·      What is our role, both as individuals and as a community, in that urgent work?

·      What resources do we bring to this work?

·      What resourced do we need for this work?

·      Who are our partners in this urgent work? [v]

 

            We do not ask these questions in an abstract or theoretical way.  You may know the saying, ‘Think globally, then act locally.’  The American theologian and writer, Frederick Buechner, put it this way:  

 

(When) you wake up in the morning, called by God to be a self again, if you want to know who you are, watch your feet.  Because where your feet take you, that is who you are. [vi]  

 

            The Parish of Saint Thomas has been called by God to serve this community of Chilliwack where many roads come together, and many people dwell.  How does this Parish take care of this neighbourhood and make known God’s re-creating, reconciling and renewing love – rooted in its past, embodied in its present and envisioned in its future?

 

We need to be clear-headed.

            There is nothing wrong about and much to say in favour of dreaming.  As Bishop Gordon Light writes in his hymn ‘Draw the Circle Wide’:  “Let the dreams we dream be larger, than we’ve ever dreamed before; let the dream of Christ be in us, open every door.” [vii]  Dreams show us possibilities that excite us and give us hope.

 

            But we also need to be clear-headed about our ability to make our dreams come true.  Because we love this community and desire its well-being, we would not be faithful to our role in God’s mission if we cannot finish the work we have begun.

 

We are in this for the long-haul.

            I think that one of the strengths of the Anglican way of discipleship is that we have a long-term vision of what we believe God is doing and how we participate in that work.  Sharing God’s dream is important; finishing what we start is important; but perhaps even more important, committing to the on-going, sometimes difficult and unexciting work that follows the realization of our plans.  

 

            The Fifth Mark of Mission of the Anglican Communion is the commitment “to strive to safeguard the integrity of creation and sustain and renew the life of the earth”. [viii]  Remember what I mentioned earlier – ‘Think globally, then act locally.’  We are here to sustain the integrity of this local embodiment of creation we call Chilliwack.  That is not a one-year commitment or a five-year commitment.  That is a commitment that extends beyond the lifetimes of many of us who are here this morning.

 

We praise you, O God – again!

            I have no need to recite the challenges that we face as people of faith in a world where justice is denied, loving-kindness is cast aside and humility is a rare commodity.  I have no need to recite the litany of uncertainties and even fears we have about our churches.  I don’t think that we are in an aircraft plunging to earth, but I do think that we need a renewal in understanding our words are how we shape the future we hope for.

 

            We are a people of praise and thanksgiving, and that praise and thanksgiving empowers us into mission.  We are a people of Word and Sacrament, and that Word and Sacrament enlivens us to dream of our community as it can be rather than as it presently is.  We are a people of a chequered past, and that chequered past compels us to shape a future where all God’s children shall be free. [ix]

 

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[i] Deuteronomy 26.1-11; Psalm 100; Philippians 4.4-9; John 6.25-35.

 

[ii] English Language Liturgical Consultation, ‘Te Deum Laudamus’, https://www.englishtexts.org/te-deum-laudamus accessed on 11 October 2025.

 

[iii] Philippians 4.4-7 (New Revised Standard Version).

 

[iv] ‘Eucharistic Prayer 5’ in The Book of Alternative Services 1985, 204.

 

[v] Adapted from Kathleen Henderson Staudt, “Annunciations in Daily Life”, Sewanee Theological Review (Easter 2001).

 

[vi] https://www.frederickbuechner.com/quote-of-the-day/2019/4/1/where-your-feet-take-you accessed on 1 August 2025.

 

[vii] Hymn #418 in Common Praise (1998).

 

[viii] https://www.anglican.ca/ask/faq/marks-of-mission accessed on 1 August 2025.

 

[ix] The Book of Alternative Services 1985, 215.

 

See with New Eyes: From Denali to McKinley and Back

 

 

RCL Proper 26C [i]

28 September 2025

 

Holy Trinity Anglican Church

White Rock BC

 

From McKinley to Denali

            When our oldest child, David, was in Grad 3 or 4, I was summoned to meet with his teacher.  She was concerned by what she called his ‘oppositional’ behaviour.  When I asked her for an example of this behaviour, she told me that David kept correcting her about the name of the highest mountain in North America.  Every time she said, “Mount McKinley”, David would correct her and say that it was “Denali”.

 

            What she didn’t know was that David spent most summers in the company of the many indigenous children who came with their parents to the Native Ministries Summer School at Vancouver School of Theology.  Within those circles ‘Mount McKinley’ was known by its original Alaskan indigenous name, ‘Denali’.  David’s perspective had been shaped by his friends and their communities ancient knowledge of the mountain rather than the U. S. Geological Survey’s desire to honour an assassinated U. S. president.

 

            To this day David has remained an active ally of indigenous people.  He now works as a library technician at Nicola Valley Institute of Technology in Merritt, a post-secondary educational institution created by a consortium of First Nations in and around Merritt.

 

How do you look at the world?

            How we look at the world is thoroughly integrated into our very hearts, minds, souls and bodies.  Our perspective on the world is shaped by many factors – language, social and family history, our personal experiences – to name but a few.  My late colleague at VST, Dr Sallie McFague, frequently reminded the faculty and her students to be very careful how they looked at the world, because ‘that’ the way it is!’ – at least to one who is looking.

 

            We create our worlds and then we expect them to work as we conceive them to be.  But sometimes the worlds we construct collide with the worlds constructed by others.  Some of those collisions result in the destruction of one or both worlds.  But there are also collisions that result in a re-shaping of perspectives and a new, perhaps even a shared, world emerges that is life-giving and eye-opening.  The collision of worlds may result in a vision of the future that holds promise for everyone rather than a select few.

 

Prophetic symbol

            Two thousand six hundred years ago, the people of Jerusalem were besieged for two and a half years by a Babylonian army.  Their kin in the norther kingdom of Israel had already been absorbed into the Babylonian empire, and now it was the turn of the southern kingdom of Judea after the failure of its second revolt against their imperial foes from the east.

 

            In that moment the Judeans must have looked at their world in fear and confusion as it collided with the imperial world of the Babylonians.  But, in the midst of this approaching catastrophe, the prophet Jeremiah offered them a glimpse into the world that God was still bringing into being despite the devastation surrounding them.  When his kinsman offers to sell some family property, perhaps in hope of getting some ready cash in case he needed to make a dash for safety in Egypt, Jeremiah defies all reasonable expectations.  Jeremiah’s symbolic act of buying a piece of property he has no reason to believe he will ever occupy points to the world as it will be after the dust settles on the current collision, a world where land will be seeded and reaped by the descendants of those who currently live in terror.

 

            Jeremiah’s neighbours looked at a Mount McKinley.  And Jeremiah offered them Denali.

 

Look more carefully at the world.

            In a society where wealth and comfort were often understood to be signs of God’s favour and where poverty and disease signs of God’s disfavour, Jesus tells a story.  It’s a story that invites his audience – and us – to look more carefully at the Torah and its many exhortations to care for the poor, the immigrant, the hungry, the homeless, the widowed and the orphaned, because they are our neighbours not strangers.  

 

It’s a story that invites his audience – and us – to hear again the voices of the Prophets who time and time again remind us of what God considers to be the world as it should be.  It is a world where we act justly – even if it costs us.  It is a world where we embrace faithful love – even if it is difficult.  It is a world where we walk modestly with our Creator – even if the dominant society is self-centred and self-promoting.

 

The rich man has been living on Mount McKinley rather than on Denali.  And the realization is shattering and his failure to look more deeply eternal consequences.

 

The writer of 1 Timothy also pleads with his audience to look more carefully at the world.  These verses are a set of warnings for wealthy disciples, so that they might realize that richness in generosity is true wealth, that imitating Christ’s way of life is true life. [ii]  Right actions in the present set the future in motion. [iii]

 

From Denali to McKinley and Back

            I find today’s Scriptures serendipitous.  Tomorrow is the feast of Michael and All Angels, a celebration of those heavenly beings who are God’s agents and who are responsible for gathering us into God’s kingdom, that is to say, the world as God sees it and intends it to be, not the world that has been distorted by the delusions, illusions and counterfeits that we have created through our short-sightedness and unenlightened self-interest.

 

            These holy words and holy wisdom ask us to look at the world with new eyes – even when worlds collide – as we draw near to the day when our country pauses for a day of truth and reconciliation, a day of reflection and honesty that has the potential to lead us into right actions today to set a better future into action.  To acknowledge that we gather on unceded land is not about shame, political correctness or imposing a guilt trip on any of us.  It is an invitation to see with new eyes.  No matter who we are or when we came to this country, we have all benefitted from the wrongs that were done when settlers came and saw Denali and called it McKinley.

 

            In every baptism and confirmation, at every Easter Vigil, we have promised – and will promise again – to persevere in resisting evil and when we fall into sin, to repent and return to the Lord.  This is a promise to seek in the collision of worlds the promise of a new world.  

 

            We have promised – and will promise again – to strive for justice and to respect the dignity of every human being.  This is a promise to seek in the worlds of others a glimpse of a world where collaboration and respect replace competition and contempt.

 

            To follow the way of Christ is to seek each and every day to see the world with new eyes, to look at the world where God is at work shaping a place where we and all God’s children shall be free to live in the shelter of Denali rather than McKinley.

            

 

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[i] Jeremiah 32.1-3a, 6-15; Psalm 91.1-6, 14-16; Psalm 91.1-6, 14-16; 1 Timothy 6.6-19; Luke 16.19-31.

 

[ii] Note on 1 Timothy 6.17-19 in The New Interpreter’s Study Bible (2003).

 

[iii] Craddock, Preaching Through the Christian Year:  Year C (1994), 417.

 

Our God Is not a Tame God: Reflections on Pentecost 11

 

Our God Is not a Tame God

Reflections for the 11^th Sunday after Pentecost

 

RCL Proper 21C [i]

24 August 2025

 

Church of the Epiphany

Surrey BC

 

Introduction

            When our younger son, Owen, entered Grade 8 at Magee High School in Vancouver, Paula and I were introduced to a new dimension of parenthood – having a child who is active in organized sports.  Neither David nor Anna, our older two children, ever showed any interest in organized sports, but Owen fell in love with rugby.  Because rugby was not widely played in the United States when we were growing up, we were completely unfamiliar with the game.  But we quickly grew to love its spirit.  That spirit is best summarized by something you’ll hear rugby fans say when they describe the difference between rugby and soccer:  “Soccer is a gentlemen’s game played by ruffians.  Rugby is a ruffians’ game played by gentlemen.”

 

            Rugby folks will tell you that rugby does not have rules; it has laws.  Laws require interpretation and, for that reason, the referee in rugby is a sacred person.  They are the final interpreters of the laws of the game.  You’ll often hear players on the bench reminding their teammates ‘to play to the ref’, in other words, learn how this referee in this game is interpreting the laws.

 

            What is true in rugby is also true in religious faith.  There are traditions within all religious faiths that emphasize the rules that must be followed without deviation.  Then there are other traditions within religious faiths that are more like rugby – there are divine laws which must be interpreted, a much more difficult task than simply following the rules.

 

To which covenant shall we be more faithful:  the covenant with Moses or with David?

            When the prophet Jeremiah began his prophetic ministry, his community was divided politically, religiously and geographically.  Some looked to the north and its more decentralized religious life centred on a variety of institutions and places.  Others looked to the south and its centralized focus on the Temple in Jerusalem and the dynasty of rulers descended from David.  Both the north and the south were threatened by powerful empires to the east and to the west.  Within Jeremiah’s lifetime, both the northern kingdom of Israel and the southern kingdom of Juday would be conquered and made provinces of the Babylonian empire. Cities, religious centres and the Temple in Jerusalem would be destroyed and thousands of people taken into exile.

 

            All around Jeremiah people were asking one simple question:  Why have these catastrophes happened to us?  To the people in the North, Jeremiah replied:  “You replaced faithfulness to the Torah, the wisdom and law of God as revealed to Moses, with the worship of foreign idols and values.”  To the people in the South, Jeremiah replied, “You chose faithfulness to the requirements of Temple worship and loyalty to the dynasty of David rather than faithfulness to the Torah, the wisdom and law of God as revealed to Moses.”

 

            In such a time as his, Jeremiah called the people to return to the difficult but enriching path of faithfulness to the covenant with Moses rather than the easier but less fulfilling path of faithfulness to rules, rituals and conformity to values that do not reflect justice, mercy and humility.  Faithfulness to God’s covenant love will not rescue us from difficult times, but it will enable us to live with integrity during such times.  When those times are past, we will discover that God’s image alive in us so that we can shape a better future.

 

What is more important – keeping the ritual requirements of the Sabbath or liberating one who is in bondage?

            If you know anything about Judaism, then you will know the treasure of the Sabbath.  If God, the creator of all that is, seen and unseen, rests from the divine labours, then how can we, the creatures of such a God, not do the same?  Even in retirement, I have taken with me duties and responsibilities that fall upon me as an ordained priest.  I am still learning at the ripe age of seventy-two the freedom that taking a sabbath rest gives me.  I am free to rest, to reflect with thanksgiving on the many gifts God has given me, to consider how I might be more attentive to God’s presence in my life.  Sabbath nourishes my identity as a person of Christian faith just as much as it nourishes and enshrines the faith of my Jewish sisters and brothers.

 

            So, it is easy to condemn the ruler of the synagogue for his intervention.  Perhaps we might look at him as a man who knows the value of sabbath rest and wants to protect Jesus as well as the others in the synagogue.  It would be fun to ask the Archbishop about his experiences when he comes to a parish for a visit.  Does he sometimes feel overwhelmed by the attention and demands made upon him on such occasions?  The synagogue ruler could have said, ‘Just wait until sundown.  When Sabbath is over, then you can come by, and Jesus will be here.’

 

            But Jesus knows that the Sabbath, as holy as it is as a day of rest, is also a day of liberation from the demands of the everyday world.  The Scriptures teach us to “(remember) the sabbath day and keep it holy.” [ii]  But what does it mean to ‘keep it holy’.  Does it mean simply following the ritual law or does it mean something more?

 

            Jesus responds to the ruler’s concerns by reminding him and all those who are present of the importance of freedom from bondage and of the call of God to do justice to all people.  In Exodus we read:  “When you see the donkey of one who hates you lying under its burden and you would hold back from setting it free, you must help to set it free.” [iii]  These are powerful words – we are not only to care about the donkey, one of God’s creatures, but we are to throw aside any animosity we might have for the owner.  The overriding concern is care for a creature who is suffering.  And so, Jesus says, should we turn aside because of religious rules from freeing a person who is suffering and in need of liberation?  His answer is a resounding ‘No’.

 

Conclusion

            I have spent four decades of my life as an ordained leader within the Christian community.  Much of my work has been around how we worship as Anglican Christians in the late twentieth- and early twenty-first centuries.  Even now I serve as the Chair of our Diocese’s Standing Committee on Constitution and Canons.  It is tempting to see my ‘career’ as one similar to that of the ruler of the synagogue – I’ve spent my time making up the regulations and procedures.

 

            But in all this, I hope that I have remembered that our rituals and traditions are means towards being responsive to the unexpected occasions when we are called to move beyond the regulations and rules, the rituals and traditions, towards embracing the Wisdom of God that calls us to do justice, to love mercy and to walk humbly with God.  Our rituals and traditions are tools that prepare us for the unexpected moments when God’s Spirit moves us into unexplored territory – even when that means ‘breaking’ the rules.

 

            My friends, Jeremiah and Jesus remind us that God’s light sometimes is hindered from entering our lives when we are too focused on following the rules or too caught up in living up to the expectations of others whom our society considers ‘influencers’.  Jeremiah and Jesus might well remind us of the words of the Canadian poet and song-writer, Leonard Cohen:

 

Ring the bells that still can ring.

Forget your perfect offering.

There is a crack, a crack in everything.

That’s how the light gets in. [iv]

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[i] Jeremiah 1.4-10; Psalm 71.1-6; Hebrews 12.18-29; Luke 13.10-17.

 

[ii] Exodus 20.8 (NRSVue).  See also Deuteronomy 5.12.

 

[iii] Exodus 23.5 (NRSVue).

 

[iv] Leonard Cohen, ‘Anthem’ as posted at https://www.poetryverse.com/leonard-cohen-poems/anthem#google_vignette and accessed on 23 August 2025.

 

Saying 'No' to the Powers and 'Yes' to God: Reflections on the Feast of Mary the Virgin

 

 

Propers for Saint Mary the Virgin (BAS) [i]

15 August 2025

 

Church of the Holy Trinity

White Rock BC

 

Introduction

            In the autumn of 1966 I met for the first time a person who became one of the more influential people in my life.  Her name was Mrs. Galbraith – I would never dare call her by any less formal name, even now as well as then – and she was my Grade 8 and Grade 9 English teacher.  She had high standards, expected thoughtful work and was not one of those teachers my classmates and I considered ‘popular’.

 

            Her mission, coming as she did from an upper-class New England background, was ensure that we kids from the Rocky Mountain West became civilized, well-read and articulate participants in our society.  She corrected our western ‘twang’ so that no one would judge us on our pronunciation or our dialect.  Being her student for two years shaped me in ways that my later high school and university years would not.  I am probably not even fully aware of her influence still quietly working the background of my mind.

 

            One year she asked us to choose an author and to prepare an extensive book report.  The project was intended to take one term, so the expectations were high.  I chose The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien.  Mrs. Galbraith encouraged me to dig under the surface of this story with magical beings, warriors and kings.  She wanted me to understand what ‘the’ story was beneath the story found on the pages of Tolkien’s books.  Under her guidance and tutelage I learned two things:

 

1)   Even though history tends to remember the stories of the great, the powerful, the rich and the famous, history is more often the story of how the not so great, not so powerful, no so rich and not so famous are the true architects of the world in which live.

 

2)   Saying ‘no’ to the powers and saying ‘yes’ to justice, mercy and humility is what gives a person integrity and authority – no matter what the cost, no matter if one’s name shows up only in the footnotes – if even there – of the official record of events.

 

It was Mrs. Galbraith’s gentle but firm prodding that helped me learn these truths almost sixty years ago.  These truths ought to be ‘self-evident’ in our times as well, but one need only look around to see how they are ignored and even subverted.  

 

Saying ‘No’ to the Powers

            One of the unfortunate consequences of the Christian faith’s cultural dominance in western society is that we have been tamed.  The liturgical year, a cycle that is intended to be counter-cultural and a form of resistance to the world as it is, has been co-opted by greeting cards, school pageants and statutory holidays.  We want happy endings and non-confrontational lives, but this is not what the calendar brings to us in many of our holy days.  Today is one such powerful reminder of the cost of discipleship.

 

            When Mary said ‘yes’ to God, she was saying ‘no’ to the social and cultural powers that shaped the community in which she lived.  She was living in a dangerous time and place, not just because she was living in a country occupied by a foreign imperial army, but because she was making a choice her religious and cultural community could not embrace.

 

            When Mary said ‘yes’ to God, she was saying ‘no’ to the expectations her community had of a young woman.  She was agreeing to bear a child not sired by her betrothed.  Her choice left her open to the whole array of first-century coercions:  divorce, social ostracism, poverty, even death.  By embracing God’s vision of the world as it can be, the world as God intends it to be, Mary has sometimes been described as ‘humble and meek’, but she’s much more than this.  Mary is courageous and dares to set her foot on a path that the prophet Simeon will later tell her, “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul, too.” [ii]

 

            And because of my devotion to Joseph, I cannot let this moment pass without recognizing his own risk.  By choosing to remain with Mary and raising her son, Joseph becomes a laughing-stock to his community.  By becoming a footnote to the story of Mary and her son, Joseph is a model for what is true of the lives of many Christians over the millennia.  We play are part and then fade from the stage.

 

Saying ‘Yes’ to God

            My friends, I believe that we are living in a time when we must remember that in our baptism we renounced “the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God”. [iii]  To say that there are no evil powers at work in the world is both naïve and dangerous.  We know all too well that there are political, social and religious leaders who are reluctant to “strive for just and peace among all people” and who do not “respect the dignity of every human being”. [iv]  We know all too well that there are special interests that are not committed “to safeguard the integrity of God’s creation, and respect, sustain and renew the life of the Earth”. [v]

 

            We need also to be honest about ourselves.  In the face of the power exercised by our families, our friends, our neighbours, our partisan allegiances, our fears and uncertainties about the future and our own security, we have not always loved God with our whole heart, mind and strength, nor our neighbours as ourselves. [vi]  I say this not to chastise or shame anyone but simply as a recognition of how difficult it is to confront the powers obstruct our becoming who we truly are as creatures made in the image of God and called to live in the likeness of God.

 

Conclusion

            Each time we say ‘amen’ to the prayers of the Church, we are saying ‘yes’ to God.  Each times we say ‘thanks be to God’ to the Scriptures proclaimed in our midst, we are saying ‘yes’ to God.  Each time we lift before God the needs and concerns of our communities, we are saying ‘yes’ to God.  Each time we dare to come to the altar to see who we are and to become what we see by eating the bread of heaven and drinking from the cup of salvation, we are saying ‘yes’ to God.

 

            But the decisive moment comes at the very end when we are sent forth in the power of the Holy Spirit to love and serve the Lord.  We leave this house of prayer, Word and Sacrament to return to homes and neighbourhoods that need our leadership in saying ‘no’ to the powers of a host of ‘ism’s’ that plague us.

 

            How gracious of God to give us the witness of Mary whose song reminds us of God’s power working in us, doing infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.

 

Though I am small, my God, my all, 

you work great things in me,

and your mercy will last from the depths of the past 

to the end of the age to be.

Your very name puts the proud to shame, 

and to those who for you yearn,

you will show your might, put the strong to flight, 

for the world is about to turn.

 

Though the nations rage from age to age,

we remember who holds us fast:

God’s mercy must deliver us 

from the conqueror’s crushing grasp.

This saving word that our forebears heard

is the promise which holds us bound,

till the spear and rod can be crushed by God,

who is turning the world around.

 

My heart shall sing of the day you bring.

Let the fires of your justice burn.

Wipe away all tears,

for the dawn draws near,

and the world is about to turn. [vii]

 

 

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[i] Isaiah 7.10-15; Psalm 132.6-10, 13-14; Galatians 4.4-7; Luke 1.46-55.

 

[ii] Luke 2.35 (NRSVue).

 

[iii] The Book of Alternative Services (1985), 154.

 

[iv] BAS 1985, 159.

 

[v] BAS 1985, 159.

 

[vi] BAS 1985, 284.

 

[vii] “Canticle of the Turning” in Evangelical Lutheran Worship (2006), #723, vv. 2, 4, refrain.