Saturday, August 23, 2025

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

 


Our God Is not a Tame God

Reflections for the 11th 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]



[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.

 

Thursday, August 14, 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]

 

 



[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.

 

Friday, August 1, 2025

Becoming Rich Toward God: Reflections for the 8th Sunday after Pentecost

 

Becoming Rich Toward God

Reflections for the 8th Sunday after Pentecost

 

RCL Proper 18C [i]

3 August 2025

 

Saint Michael’s Multicultural Anglican Church

Vancouver BC

 

Introduction

            As a child I was fed with many stories, including those from a collection of fables known as ‘Aesop’s Fables’.  Aesop was a Greek storyteller who lived more than five hundred years before the birth of Jesus.  Perhaps because Aesop was held as a slave by another person, most of his stories supported the status quothat valued knowing your place in society and staying within it.

 

            One of his fables is the fable of the grasshopper and the ant.  During a wonderful warm and productive summer, the grasshopper and its friends are busy eating, drinking and making merry, while the ant and its friends are collecting food for the long winter they know is coming.  When that winter comes, the grasshopper comes begging for food, but the ant turns the grasshopper away with harsh words and no food.  The moral of the story:  Work hard.  Save all you can.  No one will take care of you if you don’t.  Compassion and care for others is not as important as taking care of yourself and your immediate community and family.  Bad planning on your part does not create an emergency or an obligation on my part.

 

            It’s not too difficult to hear echoes of Aesop’s story in today’s reading from the Gospel according to Luke.  The rich farmer is indeed an ‘ant’ who has had a good year and is now storing up all that his land has produced.  He even quotes a verse from the prophet Isaiah, when the farmer talks about resting, eating, drinking and being merry, but forgets that the verse ends with ‘for tomorrow we die’. [ii]  And the farmer of Jesus’ parable does indeed die despite having barns that are full to overflowing.

 

            Both the ant of Aesop’s fable and the farmer of Jesus’ parable can be praised for their hard work and their careful planning for the future.  But what they both lack is compassion and a recognition of their obligations to those who have not planned well or who have not benefitted from a successful harvest.  Neither the ant nor the farmer have been ‘rich toward God’ as the evangelist Luke exhorts us to be.

 

            Archbishop John is fond of saying that the church is not dying but changing.  It is no secret that fewer people choose to commit themselves to being part of a community of faith.  Every congregation in this Diocese faces difficult decisions about how we use the treasure of our lands and our buildings in such a time as this.  We can be grateful that the generations of Christians who have come before us in this place have bequeathed to us the valuable resource of this building and this property.  How we tend this gift is perhaps the most important question facing us.

 

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? [iii]

 

            We do not ask these questions in an abstract or theoretical way.  You may know the saying, ‘Think globally, then act locally.’  The great 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.” [iv]  

 

            You have been called by God to serve this neighbourhood of Mount Pleasant where many roads come together, and many people dwell.  How does this Parish take care of this neighbourhood and make God’s re-creating, reconciling and renewing love present?

 

We need to be clear-headed.

            There is nothing wrong about and much to say about 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.” [v]  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.  A few chapters later from today’s parable, Jesus will remind those who want to be his disciples that they need to make sure that they can both lay the foundation and finish the work:  “For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it?” [vi]

 

            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”. [vii]  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 Mount Pleasant.  That is not a one-year commitment or a five-year commitment.  That is a commitment that extends beyond the life-times of many of us who are here this morning.

 

Conclusion

            By the time that my wife Paula and I were both moving towards retirement, we were uncertain what the future held for us.  But our uncertainty was relieved by the careful stewardship Paula’s father had exercised of her family’s resources.  With the guidance of some wise advisors, Paula and I have been able to map out the coming years with hopefulness for a new and creative time in our lives and in gratitude for the care that Paula’s father took for so many years.  Even more importantly, we’ve been able to see how we might benefit not only our children but the wider community when our time on this earth comes to an end.

 

            Friends, we are not like the ant with no compassion for the grasshopper.  We are not like the farmer who thinks only of himself.  We have another world in view.  So, let us be a people who give thanks daily for the stewardship of the resources that help us dream larger dreams than we’ve ever had before.  Let us be a people who plan well to make those dreams become reality.  Let us be a people who are committed to a care for this neighbourhood and its people that reaches beyond our own times and into the future.

 

            May it be so.  

 



[i] Hosea 11.1-11; Psalm 107.1-9, 43 (BAS); Colossians 3.1-11; Luke 12.13-21.

 

[ii] Isaiah 22.13b (NRSVue).

 

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

 

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

 

[vi] Luke 14.28 (NRSVue).