WHAT AM I NOT SEEING?

Sermon, by Pastor Joel

Third Sunday After Pentecost

June 9, 2024

Genesis 3:8-15

Psalm 130

2 Corinthians 4:13—5:1

Mark 3:20-35

This morning our first lesson takes us back to the beginning, to the story of Adam and Eve. We find our human pair already having snacked on the apple of the Tree of Life. Adam, at least, is hiding from God, who has come looking for them. Did you eat the apple, God asks? And Adam, our noble hero, points the finger at Eve: she made me do it, he says – a line that becomes the beginning of another belief, one we must believe was unintended by God. Eve, for her part, also shifts blame: It was the serpent, she says to God; the snake tricked me. For this the serpent is cursed, to crawl on his belly, and nip at human heels and be bashed on the head. And Adam and Eve are sent outside the Garden and into the world, aware of both God and their humanness. As meet-cutes go, to use the parlance of romantic comedy, it’s definitely on the bleaker side. Or is it?

Of course, there are all sorts of theological debates about the Adam and Eve story. Some contend that it is strictly metaphor, and that Adam and Eve were two tribes, who came together. How, after all, could two humans be the beginning of humanity? The more misogynistic of scholars throughout history have taken Adam’s view: were it not for Eve and her duplicitous ways, we would all still be frolicking in that perfect Garden, and so women must be viewed with suspicion, and their voices must be suppressed lest they wreak more havoc. Less often is it observed that Adam made his own choice to eat the apple, and yet was quick to throw his companion under the bus – an act of cowardice that has been repeated by humans ever since. What, in fact, was Eve’s crime? Curiosity – the quality that has driven human invention ever since. The curiosity to know and understand is hardly the worse attribute of humanity, and far more often one of the best.

And so, the story of the garden becomes a matter of perspective. God made a rule God knew humans would inevitably break. Eve and Adam both tried to make excuses to get out of trouble, but it is Eve’s daring choice that leads to their shared act of eating the apple, which might also be considered the first act of community – they took the risk together. The serpent remains ever-present, sneaking into our lives today, the voice of temptation, for worse, and better.

It’s a matter of perspective, as I say.

The story of what happened in the Garden is often problematic because it appears to make Eve subservient, or second to Adam. Eve is created by God, we are told, from Adam’s rib. Eve is named “woman” by Adam. Eve is described as a helper for Adam. But again, we might see it all differently: we might say that God improved, on the second time around, that Eve was created because Adam clearly required her help, and Adam, understanding this, made clear with the name that she was like him, and not like any other creature in the garden. And so we might also see Adam from a different perspective.

And what of Eve herself, whose act of eating the apple began the events that led to humanity’s leaving the garden? If we are to believe in God’s plan, then surely this was part of it – an act of free will that was expected to happen, because a world existed outside the garden and we were called to live in it, for better and for worse.

I say all these things because our perspective is a powerful tool, one we often fail to use. It opens our eyes, it is curious, it enables free will. There is one version: Adam was happy in the garden, until Eve wrecked things by eating the apple. There is also this version: Adam was a bit of an apple-eating dud and Eve created humanity by sending us into the fullness of the world. And there’s this version: Adam and Eve, both wanting to eat the apple and experience what else life offered, did so together, and set out from the garden together. And the rest is history, or faithful mythology.

There is a line at the end of our gospel that relates to this idea of opening ourselves up to many perspectives. Jesus is preaching about the importance of unity, and the weakness of a house that gives in to division. He is told that his mother and brothers and sisters are outside. And he looks at the crowd and says, my mothers and brothers and sisters are here. And we understand that he is not rejecting his family but widening his care and concern beyond his own relational circle. His perspective is that every person is to be valued and treated as if they were family; that is a perspective, that if held, filters into every word and deed.

To live in community is to see life through the eyes of another person. To feel empathy and compassion, we must truly see another side. We must view the story from all angles. How do we gain that perspective? We listen, we ask questions, we ponder the answers. What do you mean? How do you feel? What is your interpretation of this problem or this experience? What do you need? What am I not seeing?

Stories are rarely simple, and people are almost always complicated. That is the truth that the apple told, and the human journey that Eve and Adam began.

Amen

WE ARE CALLED TO BE WHAT WE RECEIVE

Sermon, by Pastor Nelson

Body and Blood of Christ Sunday

Corpus Christi Sunday

June 2, 2024

Exodus 24:3-8

Psalm 116

Hebrews 9:11-15

Mark 14:12-26

I begin by saying, sad to say, you will not find this Sunday listed in the Lutheran proper’s. That is the lessons and prayers for Sundays and festivals.

I find it strange, that even though we say, we think the Eucharist is very important, we only directly say anything about it on Maundy Thursday. It was only when I started to look at the Roman Lectionary that I realized there was such a Sunday devoted to the Eucharist. I was surprised to hear that this celebration was started because people of the Roman Catholic community were not participating in communion. They would go to church but leave at the beginning of communion. Rc Bishop Frank Murphy said in 1964, to about-to-be-ordained priests, “your main task during Eucharist is not just to say the right words or make the right gestures; it is to help form the participants into the body of Christ.” We “protestants” often had communion only four times a year, and even then, I remember people who did not participate in communion. I guess, we really are not much different from one another. By not having communion this morning, I thought it would be a good time to see what we are missing. I recently attended “the Festival of Homiletics” at Pittsburgh, PA. by zoom, just like today and I heard, Otis Moss iii, a preacher at Trinity United Church of Christ, Chicago, IL. say; “when we do right theology, it will change our anthropology, shift to a new psychology, move us to a new sociology, give us a new ecology, and will change our biology.” Well, I am not sure if that will all happen this morning, but here we go.

Something unique happened at the last supper. Just look at all the ”paint by number” paintings that have evolved. I think at least one member gave me one at each parish I was at. But seriously, I believe something happens whenever we share the Eucharist. Jesus initiated a new covenant. The covenant between God and us means that we are deeply connected not only to God, but to one another. Our connections, and the commitments they imply, extend to all people everywhere. Participating in the Eucharist may be the most challenging thing we are invited to do. Remember Alice Munro said, “one foot in front of the other gets you where you are going, but it is the detours that make the journey worth it.” Friar Scott Surrency wrote a poem called; “Can You Drink This Cup?”

Drink not survey, or analyze,

Ponder or scrutinize –

From a distance.

But drink – imbibe, ingest,

Take into you so that it becomes a piece of your inmost self.”

This poem creates a question from the challenge Augustine gave his people when he preached on the Sacrament of the Eucharist in the fourth century. Now that is a long time ago but remember Luther was an Augustinian monk. When Augustine spoke of the body and blood of Christ in the Eucharist, he said, “they are called Sacraments because in them one thing is seen, while another is grasped, … what is grasped bears spiritual fruit.” Today’s liturgy of the word guides us through the religious developments that led to the Eucharist. We begin with the first lesson from exodus as Moses leads his people in a liturgy of sacrifice. It was theatre at its ‘best’ or its ‘worst’? The people renewed their covenant with God, who they believed, led them out of slavery and gave them commandments to assure them a good life. The people listened and then they were sprinkled with blood (Word and Sacrament).

Now I have no explanation for the act of sprinkling blood other than that they looked at blood as life giving and thus, they believed they were given life with the act of sprinkling blood. Thank goodness we have gotten away from that and even gotten away from the idea we have to use red wine at communion, “because it looks like blood!” This early celebration evolved into the temple liturgies that kept the Israelites conscious of their covenant relationship with God. We get some of the story of a High Priest in our second lesson from Hebrews, showing that Jesus the Christ has become the final High Priest.

Again, we get the mixed metaphors of animal blood and Jesus’ blood and someway that gives us salvation. In fact, Robert Zimmerman wrote, “never could learn to drink that blood and call it wine.” Is that not interesting? [Bob Dylan was really Robert Zimmerman, from Minnesota.]

In my favourite gospel, Marks’ account of Jesus’ last supper with his disciples brings this theology down to earth through a poignant story, we have today. When the disciples talked to Jesus about the Passover, He reminded them that eating this meal together, pledged them to share the same commitment and fate that was waiting for him. Jesus thanked God for the saving actions of the past and then he added himself to the mix, “my body, my blood.” He was telling them/us that this is the symbol of losing their/our lives for one another and in doing that we will be “saved.” The version from Mark of the good news is a theological and Christological jewel, representing the insights, inspirations, and beliefs of the Christian community of the late sixties C.E. This covenant is ratified in two ways; by the actions of Jesus, and our sharing of this Passover-Last supper meal. At every Eucharistic gathering, we are renewed by the continuing blessings of Jesus’, once-and-for-all, Passover, and as well as the eternal covenant.

In Marty Haugen’s hymn “Gather Us In” we say,

“give us to drink the wine of compassion,

Give us to eat the bread that is you,

Nourish us well,

And teach us to fashion lives

That are holy and hearts that are true.”

When Jesus took the cup of the Passover that they were accustomed to sharing, Jesus explained that it was the cup that he had promised to share with them. No matter how we understand the story of Jesus on the cross, when we receive the bread and wine, we are entering into a blank cheque of solidarity with Jesus and his cause. Namely the salvation of the people, one person at a time. They/we pledge to have full Communion with one another. In the account from Mark, we are really learning how the community celebrated the Eucharist, rather than what precisely Jesus did and said at the supper. The community derived this from what the disciples told of their experience with Jesus in the upper room.

Today we are asked again to ponder Jesus’ question: “can you drink this cup? Do you want this Communion with me?” We can too easily say, yes? Remember the disciples were looking for glory. But Augustine through Fr. Surrency said; “drink not to survey or analyze, ponder or scrutinize – but drink – imbibe, ingest, take into you so that it becomes a piece of your inmost self.” We must say “Amen” to what we are in God and our response must be a personal signature, affirming our faith, being a member of this community and then and only then can we truly say, “Amen.” When we again take our place in a communion procession, we must realize that beyond our hymns of praise we will grasp what God offers to us and we will offer that love to others. We must not wrestle with, “how the bread and wine becomes the Body and Blood of Christ.” Remember the way the world works is not the way we should work in the world. We must hear what God says to us;

“Receive what you are and become what you receive, be flesh and blood given for the life of the world.”

• Body and Blood of Christ, incarnate word of God, come to live among us…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, broken and poured out for the salvation of humankind…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, broken and shared with sinners who hunger for forgiveness…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, risen in glory as the pledge of our eternal inheritance…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, broken and suffering from hunger and malnutrition…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, children broken and died alone…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, wounded, maimed and slaughtered by war…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, whose helpless members are abused and neglected…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, whose civil rights are denied by unjust governments…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, denied freedom to immigrate in search of a better life…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, suffering from the burden of illness and the added burden of ignorant and judgemental attitudes of others…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, from whose pleading eyes and outstretched hands I avert my eyes and close my wallet and my heart….Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, belittled by ethnic jokes and racial slurs…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, addicted to drugs of all sorts…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, punished but not rehabilitated within the prison system…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, denied child support by negligent parents and/or the system as a whole…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, suffering the loss of memory, mind and personality because of disease…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, whose mental and physical challenges are misunderstood or ignored…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, affronted by media and others peddling false values, brutal violence and perverted sexuality…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, who because of a corrupt social system, have inadequate medical care, pensions, food, welfare, housing and the list goes on…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, people who are lonely and isolated, and whose pains and tears, whose needs and fears are my responsibility…Amen!
  

[And one that should have been first but it took the Ontario

legislature last Wednesday to remind me,]

• Body and Blood of Christ, Government, along with help from catholic and protestant churches, ripped first nation children from their homes and punished the children when they spoke their own languages…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, beloved children…Amen!

• Body and Blood of Christ, who is saviour and Lord, mother and father, sister and brother, friend, and neighbour, to me and to you… Amen! Amen! Amen!

Quite simply the community in Mark celebrated the Eucharist at the conclusion of their common meal. Their sharing appeared to be structured around seven actions and three words spoken by Jesus.

Those 7 actions were: Jesus took, blessed, broke and gave bread, then he took, gave thanks, and gave the cup.

The 3 words were given: over the bread, over the cup, and the reign of God.

This continues to be the structure of the Christian community’s Eucharistic sharing even to this day. At each Eucharist we enter once again into the evolving experience of our history. Each sharing of the bread and the cup traces its roots to the exodus covenant. But because we have broken that covenant again and again, we need to re-establish that covenant with God through the Eucharist. I do not know how all of this happens, so I will quote two Lutherans smarter than me.

Dr. Harvey Kwiyani said, “to realize the fullness of the holy spirit, we must come together in spaces and communities that allow people to bring their authentic gifts and to celebrate expressions of faith that reach across our differences.”

Dr. Gail Ramshaw said, “we as faithful God’s people will at our end go with Christ to God. This is how I taught my daughters about death: when we die, we go to God. And where is God? Well, besides everywhere, God is in the assembly at the Eucharist each week.”

Yes, I believe with death defeated and sin held at bay, all who participate in this new and everlasting covenant can anticipate, at every sharing of the Eucharist that there is a promise of good things yet to come…As we celebrate this feast, a reprise of Holy Thursday, we are invited to join with the disciples, once again, in hearing Jesus’ invitation to receive the bread of communion and to drink of the new covenant with God. Quite simply, as Augustine would tell us; we are called to be what we receive - the body of Christ. When we dare say “Amen!” we proclaim “yes, we will receive what we are and be what we eat.”

Amen! Amen! Amen!

Thank you to, Patricia Datchuck Sanchez, for the idea and many of the

words of the body and blood litany.

For God so loved the world

Re-posted Sermon

by Pastor Joel

Holy Trinity

May 30, 2021

Isaiah 6:1-8

Romans 8:12-17

John 3:1-17

In Nova Scotia, my home province, the wind sets the direction of our sails, both literally and metaphorically. When you are sailing, you use the wind to your best advantage by the position of your mainsail and your jib. A good wind carries us to shore; a vanishing wind leaves us floating directionless. News comes on the wind, the saying goes, both good and bad. An old story tells of the mothers and sisters picking blueberries on the hills above Lunenburg; when a strong wind would come up, they would pray for the safe return of their husbands, brothers, and sons caught out at sea. The wind brings death – in hurricanes that sink ships and flood shores. And it brings life, by spreading nature’s bounty. It blows away the fog and brings clarity. We cannot change the wind; we can only try to adapt to its direction and harness its power.

Yet the wind is invisible; we cannot see it – we can only see the change that it brings. The waves building on th3e sea. Leaves rustling. Fog lifting.

The wind is invisible, and yet it touches everything in its path. It is a power for change.

As our gospel says: The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes.

Jesus is offering us a metaphor for the Holy Spirit, this aspect of God which we can never truly understand. The original text used the Greek word “pneuma” – which means either wind or Spirit. And in the gospel, Jesus seeks to differentiate the Spirit from the Flesh. The spirit exists outside our earthly needs, our human wants and desires. It cannot be contained by us or controlled; and yet we may adapt to its direction and harness its power. It lifts the fog and brings clarity. We cannot see the Spirit; we can see only the difference it makes.

Jesus is also giving us a metaphor for how we view our lives and the way we interact with our environment. We have our flesh, which includes the physical side of it: our basic needs – food, water, housing. It also includes our wants: the material items we desire, the personal recognition we seek. Our wants may get out of control, driven by greed and envy and power and selfishness. We struggle to keep those wants in check.

The Spirit, however, brings meaning and purpose to life. It’s described in our gospel as an invisible force that we can hear but never fully understand. The wind never bends one tree just like another: it touches everything in its own unique way. And when the wind changes, those same trees bend with it in an equally unique way. So it is with us – we are, each of us, uniquely bent and moved by the Spirit. And from one day to the next, how we experience the Spirit may also change.

So how do we truly hear the sound of this invisible wind of God in a way that matters? We know what happens when the wind blows too hard against a rigid thing: it doesn’t bend, it breaks. To harness the wind, we must move in its direction rather than try to change its course.

And so what Jesus is telling Nicodemus, in answer to all his questions, is that the key to harnessing the Spirit, is openness. If we think we have all the answers, we cannot bend. If we sit in judgement of others, we cannot move in the direction the wind wants to take us. If we cannot be freed up to hear the word of God, we cannot harness the power of the wind.

I think we forget this mystery of God sometimes, perhaps especially right now, when we are so focused on rules and regulations and how to get out of this pandemic. We want to know what will happen to our community, to our families, to our churches. We want to solve the problems we face – and so we have meetings and memos and emails and brainstorming sessions. And yet, where is God in all those meetings? Where is Jesus in our plotting? Where is the Spirit in our brainstorming? We so desperately want to control the future, to know the future, that we close ourselves off to the spirit. We want control, and so we don’t bend to the wind.

And yet, Jesus says, we do not know where it comes from, or where it goes. In other words, we must be patient. We must accede control. We stop plotting every point on the path. We must wait for the wind to take us where we need to go.

My wife can tell you that one of my favourite sayings is: “Everything always works out.” Much like it did for my mother, who was equally perturbed by my use of this phrase, I think it both frustrates Erin and soothes her. But it is not naïve; I am not being the fool when I say this. I have experienced and seen enough in this world to know that things do work out. Not the way I had thought. Not always the way I had planned. But I wake up one day and realize that life has set me a new course. I realize that the wind has bent and moved me, and it will be okay.

That takes faith. It takes patience. It requires that we accept a mystery that we cannot solve; a riddle we cannot answer. We just know that the wind – the Spirit - is with us. We cannot know from which direction it comes, or where it goes – although we do know who sends it. We must wait, and listen, and be open to where it may take us. Amen