November 16th ~ By Your Endurance You Will Gain Your Soul

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Malachi 4:1-2a

Psalm 98

2 Thessalonians 3:6-13

Luke 21:5-19

Sermon by Pastor Joel

This week, I learned the story of Jesse L. Brown and Tom Hudner. Jesse was the first African-American aviator to complete the United States Navy's basic flight-training program, and he flew in the Korean War. Tom was the wealthy Irish-American guy who became his wingman. While flying over North Korea, Jesse’s plane took a bullet and crashed on a mountaintop. Instead of abandoning him, Tom crash-landed his plane nearby to save Jesse. Unfortunately, by the time they could be rescued, Jesse had died from his injuries.

I learned this story because, by chance, I happened to stumble across a movie on Remembrance Day. The movie had already started, so I missed the back story. But Tom Hudner’s act seemed so selfless, I had to google to make sure this wasn’t Hollywood fiction. And sure enough, the story was true. Jesse had overcome racism to achieve something no one else had done before him. And Tom did crash his plan, and risked the chance never to get home again, to try to save him.

Now, I know Remembrance Day has passed, freeing up all the stores to haul out the Christmas decorations – so why tell this story now? When I read the second lesson, I knew why I wanted to put it in the sermon. These verses from 2 Thessalonians are about a group of people who stop working and stop trying. They believe Jesus is about to return, so they decide to sit down and wait. And yet, they are chastised for doing so, and we are reminded: “Brothers and sisters, do not be weary in doing what is right.”

The second lesson isn’t about laziness; it’s about complacency. And complacency, I’d argue, its much worse than laziness. People, I have found, often don’t act out of laziness, but rather because they have been told for so long that they can’t do something, that they stop trying. Perhaps anxiety paralyzes them, and they are just too afraid they will fail.

But complacency – well that’s people’s being lazy who have the skills and ability and privilege to work for what is right. When we recognize an old problem but assume it can’t be fixed with a new solution, that’s complacency. When we see someone more vulnerable and don’t work to change ourselves or our community or our country to help them, that’s complacency. And it also seems to me that if we honour Canadian soldiers – and men like Jesse and Tom – for only one Sunday service or one hour at a war memorial, well, that’s also complacency.

Tom and Jesse were the opposite of complacent. At that time, segregation still existed in much of the country, but the Civil Rights Movement was growing quickly, empowering some to fight for their rights, turning others into violent thugs and murderers to stop those rights from coming to pass. Indeed, Tom and Jesse lived in a time like that described in our gospel – a time when people were rising up against people, and neighbors against neighbors. When the foundations of a society based on discrimination and oppression were being shaken and rattled, like an earthquake created by people working and fighting for change. And just as in the gospel, people working on the side of change were thrown into prison, persecuted, and beaten. They were betrayed by relatives and friends who stood on the other side; and some of them, as the gospel also warns, were tragically murdered.

In this world, Tom wasn’t even supposed to be Jesse’s friend, let alone risk his life for him. And yet neither sat around waiting for the world to correct itself, for others to fight for change, for the gospel to magically gets things done. They didn’t know how the war would end, or what direction their communities would take, but they went to work. The consequences of their labour were significant; enough to win them both medals and to be portrayed as heroes in a movie decades later. At the end of that movie you learned that the Brown and Hudner families remained lifelong friends. And if that is all their work had accomplished – an unusual friendship in defiance of racism – that would have been enough. Because our work doesn’t need to produce medals and movies; it just has to be an example of what is right in a world once terribly wrong.

Jesus doesn’t mince words; there’s nothing gentle about the image he is painting. He’s saying that the work is hard and the risk is large. But have no fear he says, no hair on your head will be harmed. By your endurance you will gain your souls.”

“By your endurance you will gain your souls.” What a great line that is. What an important message from Jesus. Because, “the hair on your head” phrase, is really a metaphor; Jesus was not promising that the disciples would be saved every time they got into trouble, every time they faced an angry mob. No, the real promise is the next line: “by your endurance you will gain your souls.” What restores the centre of our very being? We already know. Doing what’s right by our families and the next generation. Leaving the world a little better than we found it. Being remembered by those who follow after us.

Now, let’s not forget. We don’t have to work. Our relationship with the gospel – and God – is not transactional, as Martin Luther recently reminded us. But Jesse and Tom didn’t have to enlist; they volunteered to wear the uniform. Tom didn’t have to try to save Jesse – in fact, he broke the rules to do so. And no one made the Browns and Hudners remain friends, they chose that path together.

So, let us not be complacent, in the lazy ways of the relatively privileged. Let us be active. Let us get to work. Incidentally, if you’d like to watch it, the movie about Jesse Brown and Tom Judner is called Devotion. Which is fitting, because isn’t devotion the opposite of complacency? What is devotion but the work of persevering, of loving what is imperfect, of standing firm and trying to help, or not getting distracted and wandering away from the place we need to be. Let this be us: persevering, loving, and steady -- disciples of devotion.  Amen

November 9th ~ Remembrance Day / Aim as High as Heaven... to Make Life Better on Earth

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Job 19:23-27a

Psalm 17:1-9

2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17

Luke 20:27-38

Sermon by Pastor Joel

The Levirate marriage that is described in the gospel this morning has a long history across religion. In this tradition, as it is laid out in the Old Testament, a widow marries her husband’s brother. In part, it was meant as protection, since women could not inherit property, and widows were often left in poverty with the death of a husband. If there were no children, the first son born in the new marriage would become the heir to the first husband – thus securing the family inheritance.

There was an out: the couple could perform the Halitza ceremony, in which the widow would remove the brother’s shoe, and spit in his face before the people of their community, as a sign that he was choosing not to marry his deceased brother’s wife. But choice was gender specific: whether the marriage went ahead was determined by the brother and not the widow. 

So that is the context for the scenario that is brought before Jesus – a riddle from skeptics to get him to clarify how the resurrection works. Jesus is presented with an unlikely scenario: a woman loses her husband, and by tradition, the dead man’s brother agrees to marry her. He dies, and his living brother does the same. It happens seven times. The question put to Jesus is this: in heaven who is the woman’s husband?

Now, when I first read this gospel, believe me, it was not lost on me how sexist this story is – that a widow would be passed from brother to brother by marriage. But we also have to add the historical framework – that in that time, without the support of a male family member, a widow would be cast off, without social and financial support. But how far have we truly come? In patriarchal parts of the world, where women have no property rights, it is still practiced. And even here in Canada, we tend to forget how recently our own laws changed. Until the late1960s – that is, about 60 years ago – women who wanted to divorce their husbands had to meet a high bar of proof – abuse or rape, for instance – and even if it was accepted, there was no guarantee that they would receive a fair share of the household assets, or future support. It wasn’t until 1968, that the reasons required for divorce were made the same for men and women. And it took at least another decade, for women – the one still most likely to be at home with the kids – to have a legal guarantee of a fair share of the household wealth, and support. Even so, relationship break-ups typically result in women’s being worse off than men. Single mothers are more likely to live in poverty than any other segment of the population. So, in the sweep of history, it’s been a fairly short period of time since the law changed - even here in a progressive country. And, for many women --  widows and mothers -- , there is still inequity.

We need to remember that. 

But look at the answer Jesus gives. On first glance he appears to dodge the question.  He says: “Those who belong to this age – that is, this life -  marry and are given in marriage. But those who are considered worthy of a place in that age – that is, heaven – and in the resurrection from the dead – neither marry now nor are given in marriage.” That’s a bold statement. Jesus is saying that in God’s world, people are not caught by earthly law and tradition -- they are set free to be individuals in their own right. And isn’t that a tacit rejection of the laws as they are designed on earth? 

It is subtle, to be sure: why doesn’t Jesus just come out and challenge the law itself?   I think there is a lot of evidence that Jesus was a feminist ahead of his time – but in this case the story is a riddle, one based in law but meant to challenge the idea of the resurrection. Jesus uses the question to make a different point. His response is, inherently, a statement of value for the widow in question – that in God’s eyes, it doesn’t matter what happened on earth. Those rules don’t apply. Why, he asks indirectly, should they exist on earth? 

Perhaps one of the most seemingly backward stories also has a most modern resonance.  Because what is our position as Christians—as followers of the gospel – but to try to recreate God’s vision of our own humanity on earth? If God, as Jesus says, sees everyone as individuals, valued in their own right – then it is also our job to aim for a society that does the same. We certainly aren’t there yet. We are actually living in a time that is becoming more unequal, where the gap between rich and poor around the world, and in our own cities, is growing. 

We must also remember the past to live in the present and change the future. 

This week especially, the week we remember those who sacrificed for our freedom, is a good moment to take stock. We cannot forget what came before, how recently times were different, and the struggles of so many. The men and women who fought in uniform against tyranny so that others could work in our streets and our parliaments to change the law to grant individuals value in their own right. 

We must remember this when we consider the freedom we now enjoy, because of the sacrifices and choices of those who came before us.  This freedom is not ours to claim like some personal victory.  Freedom is something for which to be thankful.  It is ours to help others experience. Freedom is the gift we need to protect.

The gospel reminds us, even in our outrage for the widow’s plight, how recently our own world was not so very different. And it reminds us, as well, to aim as high as heaven to make life better. The gospel represents a freedom beyond our understanding, to live in community and feel supported, to believe and debate and feel safe, to be ourselves and to be loved. This is the freedom that so many people throughout history have fought for and have been willing to die for.  It the freedom that Jesus stood for.  May we remember to stand firm and fight for it.   Amen

November 2nd ~ Remembering Wise and Loving Saints, With Wise and Loving Actions

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Daniel 7:1-3, 15-18

Psalm 149

Ephesians 1:11-23

Luke 6:20-31

Sermon by Pastor Joel

If you are present in my house these days, you hear a lot of happy news. This is the side benefit of living with The Globe and Mail’s happiness reporter. But there is also a lot of talk about the state and definition of happiness. And on that front, Canada isn’t doing all that well. In the most recent standings in The World Happiness Report, we had a poor report, falling out of the top ten and placing 18th out of 134 countries. The World Happiness Report is based on an international survey that asks people around the world about trust, and community, and life satisfaction. But when you slice the numbers a different way, you suddenly see what’s driving that unhappiness. If you count only Canadians over 65, the country jumps right back up to 6th place. If you count only those under 30, we slide all the way down to 58th. And when researchers looked at how much happiness had changed among Canadian young people, we tumbled almost to the very bottom.

Young people are having a hard time, and we can see it. In our kids, trying to figure out what to study with AI. Or sending off resumes and never hearing anything back. Or not being able to afford a house. This week, I read about a new study that found one million Canadians now experience climate anxiety so severely they have trouble getting through their day – and anxiety at any level is highest among young people.

And yet, if you read the comments on The Globe story about unhappy findings, you will see all kinds of readers suggesting that young people are babies, or that everybody has it hard, or that, even more inexplicably, climate change does not exist. Scattered throughout are occasional notes of compassion. But the tone overall is nitpicking, defensive, and judgemental.

Is that anything like what we hear from Jesus today? I don’t want to be a downer – and this will turn around by the end, I promise you. But today is All Saints Sunday, when we remember the loved ones who died and what they mean to us and what we learned from them. The lessons I hold dear from the people I remember today are compassion, curiosity, and other-centredness. These were the people who reminded me that I wasn’t alone, that God loved me, that people loved me, and that community was the essence of life. If you are grieving today for someone in your life who died, I hope you are finding your laughter, as Jesus suggests, in the stories of those happy, comforting lessons.

Do we talk about those lessons enough? Do we remind ourselves of them when we need to? Jesus teaches us today that life is full of emotions that flip from one day to the next, that good fortune can follow bad, that pleasure can follow pain, and vice versa. Those who think they are on the top can fall to the bottom, and those at the bottom may find themselves at the top. Our enemies may suffer. They may also, with kindness, become our friends.

The inevitable fluctuations of life are not meant to frighten us. They are meant to bring us together, to reassure and unite us. Change comes for better or worse, and we get through it. We don’t lose the emotion that came before: it becomes part of us. We don’t grieve and then stop; that grief become part of who we are, how we feel and see the rest of life. To do that we need one another, to listen to and comfort us, to provide a deeper understanding, and to help us work through the more difficult moments of life. The neighbors of a community need this from one another. So do the citizens of a country, the members of generations.

And so collective unhappiness is a collective responsibility. We all share in it; we are all affected by it. The community of the wise and loving saints we remember today must be reflected here in wise and loving actions here – otherwise what is the point of remembering them at all?

In today’s gospel, Jesus, who loved a good parable, leaves us some of his most specific instructions: Love your enemy. Pray for those who hurt you. Turn the other cheek. Those ones are pretty tough. But even harder, perhaps are the next on the list: to be giving to anyone who asks, and most memorably, to do for others what you would want them to do for you.

This statement isn’t perfect, but it’s a good guide. If we are struggling and afraid of the future, what would we want to hear from our elders? I doubt judgement is high on that list. If we are old, and need help, what would we want to hear from those younger? I doubt scorn is up there. We would want to be loved, to look for a deeper understanding together, to see ourselves as one community.

We can start with what we want, but we cannot assume that the other person wants what we would want. A Boomer may not know what a Gen Z needs, if they have forgotten the memory of being 20. And a 20-something may not recognize the true needs of their grandparents, having never been old. That is where we must talk and ask questions and create community from a place of curiosity. Every person I remember today, whose wisdom I still seek even though they are no longer with me in the same way, taught me the power of a curious community. One day we will all be joined together. But until that day, let us be that community living with lives of complexity, with all the changing emotions, treating others as we want to be treated and then asking them what they need—seeing happiness not as an individual goal but as a collective one. I hope you have a wise Saint or two stored in your heart and saved in your memory, to guide you. Amen