Unwanted Journeys. Unexpected Discoveries.

Unwanted Journeys.  Unexpected Discoveries.

Reflections on Luke 2.1-20

 

‘On the Road to Bethlehem’

Christmas Eve

24 December 2022

 

Holy Trinity Anglican Cathedral

New Westminster BC

 

         In late 2007, Bishop Jim Cowan, then Bishop of British Columbia, invited me to be part of the Anglican Church of Canada’s delegation attending the installation of the new Primate of the Church of the Province of Myanmar.  The installation was scheduled for February 2008 and there were intensive preparations for our journey in the months leading up to our departure.  Since I have always loved travel and have taught about the relationship between culture and Christian worship, I was excited about going.

         But as the day of our departure drew closer, I become more and more anxious.  I had recently learned that I had both coronary and respiratory conditions that were life-altering. Myanmar was then, as now, under the control of a military junta that actively monitored the activities of both Christian and Muslim minorities.  For example, citizens of Myanmar were not permitted to entertain foreigners in their homes.  Militant Buddhists regularly disrupted Christian and Muslim worship.

         My anxiety become so acute that I ended up in the UBC urgent care unit two days before our scheduled departure.  After a fair number of tests and lots of questions, my wise ER physician asked me, ‘Do you want me to write a medical excuse for you not to go to Myanmar or do you want to face your fears and go?’  I chose to face my fears and go on what had become an unwanted journey.

         But out of this unwanted journey came so many unexpected discoveries of the presence of our living, loving Creator.  I have not forgotten the fears, but the memories of the gifts far aweigh them.

         Have you ever gone on an unwanted journey?  Have you gone on such a journey and, despite your fears and misgiving, had an unexpected discovery of God waiting for you?  I have.  So did Joseph and Mary.

         Over the many centuries Joseph and Mary’s journey to Bethlehem has been romanticized.  We can be led to forget that this was no voluntary visit to Joseph’s family’s home town for pleasure.  It was a journey forced upon the people of Palestine by their imperial and colonial rulers, so that tax records could be updated and tax revenues increased.  Thousands of people were forced from their homes to travel hither and yon at their own cost and at some peril.  Hardly a scenic tour of old haunts!

         But even unwanted journeys can play a role in God’s saving purposes.  The Child was born.  Poor and humble folk caught a glimpse of the world as God desires it to become.  Exotic visitors from foreign lands came to see the Saviour, the Light of God.  And, in this place, at the end of this unwanted journey, hope is born and the world seems ever so much more beautiful and holy.

         Right now there are many people who are on unwanted journeys.  Some of these journeys are, like Joseph and Mary’s, imposed by political leaders and situations with the possibility of grievous harm and life-altering consequences.  Other such journeys are less dramatic but still have life-changing possibilities.  Perhaps you know someone on such a journey; perhaps you yourself on such a journey.

         When travelling on an unwanted journey, be watchful.  Be attentive to the signs.  God is not loathe to send angels, messengers of grace and good news, to point us in the direction of unexpected discoveries and signs of hope and renewal.  Sometimes those angels wear faces very much like our own.

         Unwanted journeys need not be fruitless.  They may lead us to places where our living, loving God reveals a glimpse of the world as it can be, the world as God is working to bring into being.

         After all, the angels led us here tonight, didn’t they? 

Thanksgiving: An Advent Stewardship Reflection

THANKSGIVING

 

         I cannot remember when I first learned the meaning of the Greek word eucharistia, but I do remember the impact learning the nuance of the word had on my understanding of what it means to give thanks.  Eucharistia means to give thanks for a gift given freely whether or not the giver has an obligation to give a gift or the recipient has done anything that merits receiving a gift.  I think that the best English translation is ’windfall’, something that comes to us without any effort on our part.

 

         Some Christian teachers have stressed that the core value of Christian discipleship is a life lived in constant eucharistia, constant awareness of the giftedness of every moment of our lives.  For me the last four and a half years, even at the lowest moments in the pandemic, have been filled with gratitude for the privilege of being the Vicar of Holy Trinity Cathedral.  I have told friends and colleagues that even the most difficult days at HTC have been, for me, good days.

 

         The stewardship of our time, our talent and our treasure is built on our sense of gratitude for what God has given to us – family, friends, meaningful work, a sense of purpose in our lives.  I believe that we have so much to be grateful for here at HTC, even as we face the challenges of preparing for the next chapter in our life as a community of help, hope and home in downtown New Westminster.

 

         Let us be grateful for the time God has given us to enjoy the beauty of creation and the wonder of love.  Let us be grateful for the talents God has given us to be co-workers with God in the renewal of creation and the stewardship of its resources.  Let us be grateful for the treasure God has given us to use wisely to empower the ministries that allow us to embody the life of Christ within us.

 

         Soon the lights of Christmas will shine upon us and we will be embraced by God’s incalculable love for creation made known to us in the Christ Child.  May your hearts be filled not only with joy, with peace and with hope but with a deeply-rooted gratitude for all that God has done, is doing and will do for us and for all.  May that thanksgiving fuel the decisions you make in the coming year about how you use your time, your talent and your treasure.

 

         In Holy Trinity Cathedral’s network of service, worship, evangelism, education and pastoral care, there are many reasons to be thankful.  God calls us all to find ways for our gratitude to be put to use in God’s mission.  O be joyful in the Lord and enter into God’s courts with thanksgiving.

 

Richard +

 

Vicar of Holy Trinity Cathedral

vicar@holytrinitycathedral.ca

Time: An Advent Stewardship Reflection

One of the greatest mysteries of physics is time.  Pages and pages of learned articles have been written in an effort to explain what it is, why it exists at all and why we experience it as going in a particular ‘direction’.

For Christians time exists in one of two forms.  The most common form is chronos, a Greek word which means ‘measurable time’.  Chronos is what helps us to make sense of what is the past, what is the present and what is the future.  It’s the concept we use to mark the passing of the hours, days, months and years of our lives and the lives of our families and friends.  Chronos is one of the tools historians use to describe the significant events and movements in the story of humanity and before.

In the New Testament, however, another term for time appears – kairos.  Kairos is another Greek word which means ‘the right time’ or ‘the fulness of time’.  It’s a word that describes the quality of time rather than a quantity of time.  Kairos  is not linear and the past, the present and the future exist simultaneously.  It’s the word that Jesus often uses to describe God’s reign of justice and peace.

 

We can experience kairos in the midst of chronos.  Think of an experience where you spent hours in the presence of someone or in the midst of an activity only to realize that ‘time flew by’.  This is kairos.  Think of a decision you made which might not have made sense to anyone with a practical frame of mind, but one which you believed was the right one to make at that moment in your life.  That’s an experience of kairos.

 

         Advent, the season when we are focused on the coming of Christ into the world, God’s kairos breaking into our chronos, is a perfect time to take a moment to consider how we are using the chronos of our lives to further the kairos of God’s purposes.  As disciples of Jesus, we are called to be good stewards of all the resources God has entrusted to us.  One resource that we all have, the most precious non-renewable resource we have, is the chronos of our lives.

 

When David Johnston was Governor General of Canada, he made encouraging Canadians to volunteer one of his top priorities.  He knew what we all know:  How we spend the chronos of our lives can make a difference to others, to our communities and, dare I say, even to our own selves.  

 

This Advent I invite you to consider how you are dedicating the chronos of your life to further God’s kairos.  Perhaps you are already volunteering your time to the church and other community organizations.  Perhaps you are supporting friends and family members who are in need of an extra set of hands, a set of listening ears, a caring heart.

 

But perhaps you have discovered a kairos - shaped hole in the chronos of your daily life.  In Holy Trinity Cathedral’s network of service, worship, evangelism, education and pastoral care, there are many opportunities for your time to be used well.  God calls us all to find ways for our passion to be put to use in God’s mission.  All it takes is time.

 

Richard +

 

Vicar of Holy Trinity Cathedral

vicar@holytrinitycathedral.ca

 

Apathy, Anxiety or Faithful Discipleship: Reflections on Matthew 24.36-44

 Apathy, Anxiety or Faithful Discipleship

Reflections on Matthew 24.36-44

 

RCL Advent 1A

27 November 2022

 

Holy Trinity Anglican Cathedral

New Westminster BC

 

Matthew 24.36-44

 

                  Jesus said, “But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.  For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man.  For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, and they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too will be the coming of the Son of Man.  Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left.  Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left.  Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.  But understand this:  if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into.  Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.”

 

            Biblical scholars have been known to refer to particular texts in scriptures as ‘texts of terror’.  These texts are considered terrifying for at least two reasons.  First, some are clearly intended to produce ‘the fear of God’ in the imaginations of the audience to whom the text was first addressed.  Second, others are terrifying because of the use later generations made of them to justify attitudes and actions we find horrifying today.

 

            Some years ago my former colleague Harry Maier chose to preach on a text of terror.  He warned us in advance that we might be surprised to hear this text described this way and then he proceeded to begin his sermon.

 

You better watch out.

You better not cry.

Better not pout,

I’m telling you why.

Santa Claus is coming to town.

 

I have never been able to hear that song again in the way I had before Harry’s sermon.

 

            Think of it for a moment.  Santa Claus’ coming is told in such a way as to produce terror rather than joy.  Parents use Santa Claus as a threat to coerce their children into behaving so that they will receive presents rather than be enrolled on the ‘naughty not nice’ list.  Brrr!

 

            We could, if we wanted to do so, create just such a song based on this morning’s text of terror from the 24^th chapter of the Gospel according to Matthew.

 

You better watch out.

You better not cry.

Better not pout,

I’m telling you why,

Jesus Christ is coming to town.

 

But I think there is a more healthy and faithful way to hear this text, a more fruitful and hopeful way.

 

            The late David L. Bartlett, former professor at both Yale Divinity School and Columbia Theological Seminary, wrote that contemporary Christians react in two ways to texts such as this morning’s Gospel. [1]

 

            (i) Some Christians might view Matthew 24 as an archaic text best left unread and unremarked.  It represents a world-view we do not share.  Such an attitude leads to perpetual apathy regarding the notion of the coming of divine judgement.  Who needs heavenly doom and gloom in the face of multiple wars and global climate change?

 

            (ii) Other Christians, often from more conservative, even fundamentalist, traditions see texts such as Matthew 24 as being at the heart of Jesus’ message.  We live in a world of perpetual warfare between good and evil.  Our only hope is to be on the right side of God in the coming day of the Lord.  No one will want to be left behind, so we better do our best to interpret the signs of the times, even construct elaborate timelines, to make sure we know what’s going on.  This attitude, Bartlett wrote, can lead to a state of perpetual anxiety.

 

            But there is, I think, a third way, a ‘middle way’ to use a favourite Anglican self-description of our tradition.  This middle way hears today’s gospel message as both a reminder and a call to renewed responsibility on the part of Jesus’ disciples.

 

            (i) It is a reminder that you and I are co-workers with God in God’s on-going mission to restore and renew our world.

 

            (ii) It is a call to renewed responsibility to do what is good in God’s eyes:  (a) to do justice, (b) to love kindness and (c) to walk humbly with our God.

 

            As this Advent beings, the 70^th Advent of my life, the Evangelist calls us to do justice.  Justice beings with small steps, perhaps as simple as participating in our ‘First Nations 101’ parish book study, but such small steps can lead to the restoration of right relationships.  In such small steps we “strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being.” [2]  No apathy.  No anxiety.  Just faithful discipleship.

 

            This Sunday Matthew calls us to love kindness or, to be more faithful to the prophet Micah’s Hebrew, ‘to love others as faithfully, compassionately and steadfastly as God has loved and continues to love all that is, seen and unseen’.  Such love is also known in small acts such as thirty years of feeding people a simple meal, week after week, regardless of the weather or holiday.  In such small acts we “seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving (our) neighbour as (ourselves)”. [3]  No apathy.  No anxiety.  Just faithful discipleship.

 

            Matthew’s words are a summons to walk humbly with our God.  Such humility is found in our careful stewardship of the resources of “this fragile earth, our island home”. [4]  In this stewardship we “strive to safeguard the integrity of God’s creation, and respect, sustain and renew the life of the Earth”. [5]  No apathy.  No anxiety.  Just faithful discipleship.

 

            In the parish where I grew up and was nurtured in the faith, Advent always brought the singing of a hymn by Arthur Campbell Ainger to the tune ‘Purpose’ by Martin Fallas Shaw.

 

God is working his purpose out

as year succeeds to year:

God is working his purpose out,

and the time is drawing near;

nearer and nearer draws the time

the time that shall surely be,

when the earth shall be filled

with the glory of God

as the waters cover the sea. [6]

 

Ainger wrote the hymn convinced of two things:  (i) “God is always at work to realize (the divine) will for the world and humanity” and (ii) “God works in humanity to act according to (God’s) purposes”. [7]

 

            My friends, God is working God’s purpose out – with us, for us, sometimes despite us.  But the time is always drawing near – whether in our personal lives, in our world’s life or in our universe’s life.  But not with terror.  Not with apathy.  Not with anxiety.  Just faithful, hopeful and steadfast discipleship.

 

 

---

[1] Feasting on the Word.  Year A.  Volume 1.

 

[2] The Book of Alternative Services 1985, 159.

 

[3] The Book of Alternative Services 1985, 159.

 

[4] The Book of Alternative Services 1985, 201.

 

[5] The Book of Alternative Services 1985, 159.

 

[6] The Hymnal 1982, #534.

 

^[7] ‘God Is Working His Purpose Out’ from Wikipedia accessed on 25 November 2022.

Surviving the Plague: Prayer, Worship and Service (RCL Proper 30C on 23 October 2022)

Holy Trinity Anglican Cathedral

New Westminster BC

 

            When I was in university, I read Albert Camus’ novel, The Plague.  If you don’t know the novel, it is set in the city of Oran in Algeria in the late 1940’s.  A plague descends upon the city and, in the novel, Camus explores how a cast of characters react to the discomfort and deprivation brought about by the quarantine, to the threat of death that surrounds them and to the challenge to human community as people choose between selfishness and selflessness.

 

            During the last two and a half years, sales of The Plague have increased significantly.  People throughout the world have been searching for meaning as they have asked the same questions as the characters in Camus’ tale.

·      How do we endure the isolation and losses caused by the lock-downs and quarantines?

·      How do we rebuild relationships that have been stretched and frayed, some to the point of breaking?

·      How do we face the threats of debilitating after-effects and even death from a virus that seems to come at from nowhere and everywhere?

 

            These questions are not new to our times, just as they were not new to Albert Camus.  Throughout human history communities have experienced various ‘plagues’ of one sort or another.  Five hundred years before the coming of Christ, the prophet Joel described his plague as ‘a plague of locusts’.  Whether they were actual locusts or some other unwelcome army – scholars still debate this – does not matter for us now.  What does matter is that Joel’s community experienced destruction and social disintegration at every level and in every dimension of their lives.

 

            Joel does not diminish the scale of what the people have suffered nor its impact upon them, but he does proclaim a message of hope.  The present, as bad as it is, is not the future God envisions for the people.  ‘Wait for the Lord whose day is coming,’ is his message, a day when every member of the community, male and female, young and old, slave and free, will experience God’s indwelling presence.  But how shall we wait for such a day?  What will sustain us as we wait?  For Joel the answer is prayer, worship and service.

 

            If anyone were to search on-line using the key word ‘prayer’, they would get 1,130,000,000 results in 0.53 seconds on Google!  There are any number of suggestions from a vast array of Christian and non-Christian sources.  Today I offer one simple suggestion that Jesus gave to his disciples two thousand years ago, the prayer we know as ‘The Lord’s Prayer’.  In times such as ours it continues to give hope and strength and confidence.

·      Pray it when you rise  in the morning and when you pause at midday and when you go to bed at night.

·      Pray it slowly, letting each phrase become a source of reflection:  How is God not just ‘our’ Father but ‘my’ loving parent?  How do we, do I, hallow God’s name?  What ‘kingdom’ am I waiting for?

·      Allow each phrase to generate petitions, intercessions and thanksgiving  for this moment:  When I ask for daily bread, what am I anxious about?  What I ask for forgiveness, for what do I need forgiveness, whom shall I forgive, who are the ones from whom I need forgiveness?

And the waiting becomes more bearable even life-giving.

 

            Personal prayer is an essential part of our spiritual lives, but worship is no less important.  In worship we hear the Scriptures proclaimed, so that their wisdom can inspire us.  In worship we gather with others to be encouraged, to be fed, to be embraced in loving community.  In worship we sing, an activity that brings our whole bodies into play.  In worship we join others in holding up before God the needs and concerns of the world.  In worship we discover that we are not alone.  And the waiting becomes more bearable even life-giving.

 

            Although prayer and worship are rich resources to strengthen us in our waiting, it is perhaps in the service of others that we find meaning.  Our service may find its expression in caring for friends and neighbours.  Our service may find its expression is undertaking simple tasks for others who are unable to do them themselves.  Our service may be in our attentiveness to the people who serve us in all the aspects of our daily lives.  Our service may be in our advocacy for and care of those who are not heard or seen by those who have power and influence.  And the waiting becomes more bearable even life-giving.

 

            One of the underlying themes in Camus’ novel is that human beings always find themselves assaulted by one plague or another.  The plagues may be physical; they may be political or social.  But they come nonetheless.  I think that we who live in a connected world may feel even more overwhelmed by the plagues of our time – we need only read the on-line news or turn on our televisions or read our newspapers or look at social media.

 

            But Joel would have us put our faith in the God who brought an opposed tribe of nomads out of the clutches of one great imperial power after another, so that they might witness to God’s fidelity.  Luke the evangelist and Paul the apostle would have us put our faith in the God who not only raised an itinerant rabbi from the dead, but who raised up a people who bear living witness to the God who is always raising us from the many little deaths human beings are prone to suffer.

 

            So, while we are waiting for God’s promises to be fulfilled, let us pray.  While we are working on restoring relationships and renewing the life of our communities, let us worship.  And while we are working so that all God’s children may be free and the earth be filled with the glory of God, let us serve.

Giving Thanks at All Times and in All Places: A Reflection on Deuteronomy 26.1-11

Here in Canada we are approaching our celebration of Harvest Thanksgiving.  In that context the reading from Deuteronomy 26.1-11 is quite appropriate.

We come from many countries and many cultures.  We are working towards reconciliation with Aboriginal Peoples who have suffered because of our settler and colonial values.

But even so, we can give thanks that God continues to work in us, through us and for us.

 

Setting Aside Worry and Anxiety -- A Reflection on Luke 10.38-42

Setting Aside Worry and Anxiety

A Reflection on Luke 10.38-42

 

RCL Proper 16C

17 July 2022

 

Holy Trinity Anglican Cathedral

New Westminster BC

 

            Many years ago my mentor and friend, the late Louis Weil, returned home to Texas after a stressful time as a faculty member at the Seminario del Caribe in Puerto Rico.  He was both physically and spiritually exhausted and was uncertain about his future, as a priest and as a teacher.

 

            Louis was the child of a mixed marriage.  His father was Jewish, his mother a Baptist.  Among his father’s friends was a rabbi with whom Louis had always had a good relationship.  So Louis decided to talk with his father’s friend, confident that he would get a truly impartial, third-party opinion so to speak.

 

            After Louis had unburdened himself and laid before the rabbi all the worries and anxieties that were plaguing him, the rabbi sat in silence for some time.  Then he said, ‘Louis, if Jesus is who you believe him to be, why are you so burdened with these anxious fears and doubts?’  Now let me be clear.  The rabbi was not questioning Louis’ belief.  He was asking Louis to return to the roots of his belief in Jesus as the Christ and, to use the words of the Christian scholar Marcus Borg, to ‘meet Jesus again for the first time’.  Perhaps Louis like Mary of Bethany might decide to sit at Jesus’ feet and listen for a while.

 

            I am often brought up short when this brief episode from the life of Jesus is read.  It is, like the parable of the Good Samaritan, a story that is quite familiar to all of us.  It has even become the origin of a phrase used from time to time in conversation – being a Martha or a Mary.

 

            There are several ways to interpret this story.  A frequent approach is one that suggests that Martha represents the ‘active’ life and Mary the ‘contemplative’ life.  Jesus seems to be saying that the ‘contemplative’ life is the best form of discipleship because the ‘active’ life tends to be prone to distractions and obstacles to Christian life.  Earlier in the Gospel, Luke gives his own version of the parable of the sower, found also in Matthew and Mark, where seed falls on various soils.

 

The ones on the rock are those who, when they hear the word, receive it with joy. But these have no root; they believe only for a while and in a time of testing fall away. As for what fell among the thorns, these are the ones who hear; but as they go on their way, they are choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life, and their fruit does not mature. But as for that in the good soil, these are the ones who, when they hear the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patient endurance. (Luke 8.13-15)

 

            Another way of reading today’s gospel is to do so in the light of the cultural attitudes towards women and discipleship in the time of Jesus.  Martha of Bethany is fulfilling the classic role of the woman of the household – making sure that everyone is fed and that obligation of hospitality is met.  Mary, on the other hand, is boldly assuming the posture of a male disciple – kneeling at the feet of Jesus to listen to his message.  When Martha complains, not to her sister but to Jesus, Jesus praises Mary for her courage and discernment.

 

            But the more I hear this story, the more I am convinced that the key to understanding this tory is in the final two verses:  “But the Lord answered her, ‘Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing.  Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.’” (Luke 10.41-42)

 

            My friends, who among us in this waning pandemic, in this time when religious communities such as ours navigate difficult waters, in times of economic and social stress, are not ‘worried and distracted by many things’?  We often avoid facing the depth of our worries and anxieties by plunging into a kind of ‘busy-ness’ that simply aggravates our feelings.  Our health suffers; our mental and emotional health suffers; our relationships suffer.  Even when our ‘busy-ness’ is associated with ‘good’ causes, we may find less and less fulfillment in them; they become burdens rather than joys, obligations grudgingly accomplished rather than ministries freely undertaken.

 

            It’s not that the work we are doing is unimportant.  It’s because it is becoming more distant from its source of energy and purpose – the saving word we encounter in Jesus of Nazareth.  I am very aware that, in my own life right now, the voice of Jesus is fainter than I would wish it to be.  Like Martha I have been doing what is good and proper, fulfilling the ministry that was entrusted to me when I became your Vicar and your Archdeacon.  But I know that I am both worried and distracted.

 

            Worry and distraction are emotions that are signs that we need to pause and to listen to Jesus.  Jesus speaks to us in many ways – through the Scriptures, through prayer, through times of rest and re-creation – to remind us that ‘God is working (the divine) purpose out as year succeeds to year’ (The Hymnal 1982, #534).  Just as we need to ‘keep our eyes on the prize’ and to nurture our peripheral vision of the path before us, we need to be intentional – a frequently used and frequently ignored adverb – in maintaining our connection to the source of our life, our strength, our hope.

 

            We are not being asked to choose between being Martha or Mary.  We are being invited to be disciples whose service is shaped by what we have heard at Jesus’ feet.  We are being invited to be disciples who, upon hearing the living Word, rise to the challenges we face, unburdened by worry, undistracted by anxiety, freed by love, by hope, by faith to do and to be infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.