May 31 ~ Holy Trinity

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Genesis 1:1—2:4a

Psalm 8

2 Corinthians 13:11-13

Matthew 28:16-20

Sermon by Pastor Joel

When was the last time you truly felt God? Was it during prayer, alone with your thoughts, hoping for clarity with a problem? Was it when, in a moment of choice between right and wrong, you heard the words of Jesus in your mind, reminding you to be kind and forgiving? Was it the perfect sunset, the shade of a tree, the wind rustling in the leaves? Perhaps, if we are lucky, it has been in all those places.

This Sunday is Trinity Sunday. Our National Bishop Larry Kochendorfer wrote a sermon for our 40th anniversary as a national church and those churches who might not have a minister today, and in that sermon, he joked about the many pastors who wished for a guest preacher so they could get out of trying to explain Trinity Sunday. 

The church has spent a lot of words and time arguing about the meaning of the Trinity. Is it three separate identifies of God, that you could sit in seats beside one another? Is it meant as a metaphor for one, diverse creator? Is it a way for us to understand the vastness of God?

St Augustine once said: “The Trinity is a mystery. Whoever tries to understand it fully will lose [their] mind.”

Martin Luther, who put great stock in the Trinity as a concept of God, nonetheless rejected simplistic versions—that God could be explained as three slices of one pie, or three separate beings. To try to pin down the Trinity, Luther said, was folly. 

"Why, then, do we poor wretched people rack our brains over the nature of God?” Martin Luther asked. “To take upon ourselves to understand it is a very dangerous thing, through which we may stumble and break our neck.”

Much later, theologians tried to ignore the Trinity altogether, focusing on ethics. Some viewed it a symbol of God’s all-encompassing love. Others objected to the limiting gendered language that locked out other, more diverse understandings of God.

Some suggest that the Trinity reflects God’s actions, and you can find support for that position in our gospel this morning. Jesus leaves the disciples with three callings: to baptize the next followers of the gospel in the name of God, Jesus, and the Spirit. To teach the lessons that Jesus first taught them. And to trust that Jesus is always with them, even when he is not physically present. With these instructions, has Jesus not, in essence, thus defined the trinity? The God who deems us worthy, Jesus who teaches us the way, the Spirit who weaves the presence of the divine throughout the world.

To be honest, I have always found these debates about the meaning of the Trinity too dogmatic, a bit like arguing about what God looks like. Can there truly be only one way to understand this concept of God? Is God contained in one definition? Or does God, as Luther suggests, defy our understanding?

What’s more, we live in modern times, where much of the world is not explained, and much of it remains a mystery. We have the education and awareness to live with complexity. For as much as we know already, we are still discovering new animals, new ideas, and new solutions in the world each day. The world will continue to reveal itself to us, all our lives – surely we know this now. Why shouldn’t our understanding of God do the same?

For myself, I find the Trinity a comforting idea. I am okay that it is fuzzy around that edges, for in that mystery lies more of the divine yet to be revealed to me. The Trinity as a guiding concept reminds me to look for God, in large and small ways, in the gift of baptism, in the words and life of Jesus, and when I am not looking for God at all, but sense the presence of something beyond myself and the world I know.

In the end, what we decide about the definition of the Trinity matters not one iota if we do not do anything with it – if we don’t go out into the world, and show generosity and wisdom, follow the gospel, or bring the presence of divine beauty to the lives of others. 

Bishop Kochendorfer reached the same conclusion with a closing prayer in his sermon, calling us to breathe peace into fearful lives, welcome the stranger, forgive sins, and serve on bended knee, to all in need of care. 

In other words, to be like our God who loves, Jesus who teaches, and the Spirit who brings comfort.

So, let me ask you again, when was the last time you have felt God? If you can’t remember, I hope that when you leave here today, you keep an eye open for those moments, that sense of a higher calling, that feeling of the divine in your life. That is the Trinity, and to try figure it all out, as Luther said, will leave us wracking our brains. And yet that is the gift: we do not need to know the answer to everything. We only need to be open to what we cannot understand, and watch for the moments when the divine touches our lives and inspires our actions. 

Amen

May 24 ~ Day of Pentecost / Confirmation Sunday

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Acts 2:1-21

Psalm 104:24-34, 35b

1 Corinthians 12:3b-13

John 20:19-23

Sermon by Pastor Joel

Pentecost is a story about the good and bad that faith can do in the world. It represents the challenge for us to know the difference. For this reason, it is an important idea on this, our confirmation Sunday.

For the last two years, today’s confirmands have explored this idea of faith and what it means to see the world through the eyes of the gospel. They have handed out supplies to people living on our streets, and, I hope, learned of the good they can do with their individual and collective actions. During one class, a person, dressed in shabby clothes slept in the pews, and all our youth walked by, not noticing or inquiring about them. I tell this story, without judgement – for judging is not part of our gospel mandate, and we all walk on by, at one time or another, when someone is calling for our attention. This was intended as a lesson in what we can fail to see in the world around us – and, I hope, it was another reminder of the power we have in each of us to see the world for what it is and to act within it.

On Pentecost, as our first lesson says, people of many different languages could, for a moment, understand one another – and they were amazed. What clarity that brought - to know the thoughts and intentions of a stranger from a different background.

Pentecost is a dream, an ideal goal – aspiring to a day when people of faith will be able to speak the same language. In the time in which our first lesson happened, the idea was that everyone would become a follower of Jesus – and indeed, the story of Jesus did spread, so that Christians began to appear in many places in the world. But as time went on, those Christians lost the ability to speak peacefully even with one another, let alone with other faiths. And throughout history, we see the destruction and death that is caused when we compete to be right about our interpretation of God, rather than to learn from one another to expand that understanding.

But the Pentecost story has a flaw in the telling. For it suggests that if we just stand around, God will take care of it for us. The gospel has never been about God’s taking care of us – it is about God’s giving us the tools to take care of ourselves and the world around us.

And what is the first way that God gives us those tools? God tells us we are worthy, and capable, and valuable. Each one of us. I speak directly to the confirmands, but this is a promise we all forget. The human world has a way of telling each of us, over and over again, that we are not worthy. The world will call us names and make assumptions about us. The world will say, “You aren’t capable, you don’t have value.”

Do not believe it. You do not need everyone to like you – in truth, following the gospel means getting under someone’s skin, eventually. People have all kinds of their own reasons for being critical of others that have nothing to do with you. Do not believe them.

Believe God. Believe the people who love you. Believe your friends who support you. Believe in yourself. I hope that each morning, when you look in the mirror, you see someone valuable, someone resilient, someone with the power to change the world for the better. I hope that for all us, young and old.

Ultimately, Pentecost is not simply about understanding spoken words. It is about hearing one another, listening to one another. This is the example that Jesus set: to listen, and to be wise, and not to be quick to fall prey to rumour and spin. To resist our own tendencies to wear judgment like a cloak of righteousness, for, I guarantee, we will quickly find that it is itchy, and heavy, and suffocating. We are to try to hear, underneath a person’s less-than-perfect or even destructive actions, a desire to be understood, to be treated as an equal. There is only one side worth taking – the side that seeks out a loving compromise, that keeps presenting love where hate appears to be winning.

Make sure you do this for yourselves as well – insist on being treated like an equal by those who say they love you. In your relationships, establish a standard of compromise and respect. Know your own worth, as God knows your worth.

Our calling is this: Go out into the world and speak the language of the gospel, as Jesus would have us hear it. Love and value one another as you want to be loved and valued. And love and value yourself so that all this can be possible.

In the end, every human speaks the same language – the desire to be connected and cared for, to be welcomed, to be free. That is our common vocabulary. That is the true sought-after goal of Pentecost – that in speaking the language of the gospel, we may all soar. We may all spread hope. We may all be heard.

Amen

May 17 ~ May We Not Look to the Heavens to Wait for Change, but Choose a Kinder Path Here on Earth.

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Acts 1:6-14

Psalm 68:1-10, 32-35

1 Peter 4:12-14; 5:6-11

John 17:1-11

Sermon by Pastor Joel

I recently watched a panel clip talking about the characteristics of Gen Zs. This is the generation that came after Millennials, identified partly because they can’t remember where they were during 9/11, or a time before the iPhone. They are now, depending on how you count them, between 15 and 29 years old – and, if you know and love some of them, you also know they don’t have it easy. Entry level job postings have dropped in half, from last year to this. Climate change is worsening. Most of them, in surveys, don’t expect ever to own a house. They are, according to their own assessment of life satisfaction, the unhappiest 20-something generation we have had in modern Canada, And before our eyes, we are seeing inequality expand in a single generation – between those whose parents have the money for tuition and downpayments and the connections for jobs, and those who don’t.

In that uncertain world, it’s obvious why this group, according to research, appears more risk-averse than past young people. The higher the potential cost of risk, the less any of us are likely to take it. But the Gen Z on this panel had another explanation as well – and listening to it made me feel even more sorrow for my kids. If young people aren’t going out as much anymore, aren’t dating, aren’t dancing – money is a factor.

But it’s also because they can’t trust they won’t be filmed doing their goofy dance moves – and then go viral to mockery on TikTok. They can’t trust that a date that doesn’t work out won’t end up being hashed out online. In some cases, our phones act rightly to police behaviour - the creep at the gym who won’t leave a woman alone, ICE on the streets of Minnesota. Even the most well-meaning people say dumb things and act badly in ways they regret. And the panelist said Gen Zs, who grew up in this world of social media know, know better than anyone, that any private mistake or imperfection can become a public shaming.

How does this fit into our readings this morning? Let’s recap.

In our first lesson, we are told not to look to heaven for Jesus to come; he will arrive again, the same way he came the first time.

The psalmist is in a mood – venting about God’s enemies, and the wicked perishing, the rebels banished to the desert. It sounds, to be honest, like the kind of polarized talk we hear today. Indeed, who are the rebels who deserve to thirst in the desert – the frustrated Gen Zer who paints a dinosaur to protest climate change? The young people pointing out that the traditional definition of happiness – based on the accumulation of material wealth and career titles by a certain age - isn’t working anymore?

In our Second Lesson, then, we have Peter, warning us that those who follow the gospel will be scorned by the world. “Like a roaring lion, our adversary—the devil prowls around you,” we are told, “looking for someone to devour.” We are then to be disciplined, steadfast, and humble.

And finally, there is Jesus, asking for God to look after the world, to care for those who follow the gospel, to protect those people so they may be one.

If I am honest, taken together, the readings challenge me – they have a sense of othering that makes me uncomfortable. Of one group being in, and another being out. Missing is the forgiveness and openness that characterizes the ministry of Jesus. There is nothing mentioned of rescuing or providing care to the lost sheep. If someone were sitting here, knowing nothing of the New Testament and hearing this for the first time, they would think the gospel was judgmental and intolerant, ready to cast a questioner out into the desert. That gospel would tell us when we see someone doing something wrong, or making a mistake, to haul out our phone and get it on video, for persecution later.

But of course, hidden within the words, we may find another meaning. The disciples in the first lesson are being reminded that Jesus was not a king; he was the child of an ordinary family, who worked hard and listened to people, and did what he thought was right. He approached people’s failings with empathy. He said: “Tell me your story.” He asked: “How can I help?” He grew up just like us, and he set the example of responding to the pain and weakness of others with kindness.

Who of us haven’t been the Psalmist, raging against those who wronged or systems that are failing, looking for it all to be solved by God, or government, or anyone else? In doing so, we forget how much we control ourselves. Our own actions decide what our communities are like. Our choices determine the world we leave to our children. When our spouses and friends make mistakes, we decide whether to shame them or support them. The government can put rules on social media for instance, but we can also choose to put down our phones when someone is behaving badly and try to intervene to make things better.

And yes, we need to be alert to the roaring devil lion – indeed we do. For the lion roars mostly within our own minds and hearts, and its voice comes out of our own mouths. The lion roars when we bicker between generations and forget we are all connected, when we join in the snickering about some viral video. The lion makes us feel like victims surrounded by people out to get us. It prevents us from seeing the world as nuanced and complicated. It prevents us from understanding we all want the same thing: to be free and loved and seen as worthy.

And finally, we have Jesus – and what is his appeal to God really saying? Is it even meant for God – or is it meant for us? Behind those words, I hear Jesus saying: given the chance, people are good. Sometimes, they rise above everything else and are amazing. But they are not perfect. They will promise to be faithful, and they will, more times than they like to admit, be faithless. I will plead with them to unite, but they will bicker and compete amongst themselves. Still, they try, and that makes them worthy.

And so, we are reminded – in this difficult world, where our own children fear the shame of public censure, where we are so quick to judge and divide – that Jesus was us, and we are Jesus, with power to choose a kinder path. That anger may make enemies of those who would be allies. That we must be disciplined against the devil lion that lurks within us. And that despite everything we do wrong, Jesus, who saw us for all our failings, asked God to love and protect us – so that we would do the same.

Everyone in this world deserves to dance, free and happy and with wild abandon. May we not look to the heavens and wait for that to happen. May we make the choice within our own hearts and minds to choose the kinder path in all that we do and say.

Amen