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wild flowers inside old work boots, we are called to put ourselves in the shoes of others

Sermon by Pastor Joel Crouse

Second Sunday after Epiphany

January 14, 2024


1 Samuel 3:1-10

1 Corinthians 6:12-20

John 1:43-51

We don't know much about Nathanael.  Other than this story, we know only that he was privileged to see the risen Christ.  In this first encounter with Nathanael, Jesus said, "Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree?  You will see greater things than these."

Jesus said, "Very truly, I tell you, you will see heaven opened -- and the angels of God ascending and descending."  That might seem like strange language to us, but it would not have been strange to Nathanael.

Because way back in the beginnings of the Jewish people, God made a covenant with Abraham.  God promised to make a great nation of Abraham's descendents and to bless the whole world through him (Gen 12:1-3). Then later, God renewed that covenant through Jacob -- Abraham's grandson.  God gave Jacob a vision -- a vision of angels ascending and descending on a ladder from heaven to earth—what we have now come to know as the story of Jacob’s Ladder.

A ladder from heaven might seem strange to us, but Jacob understood it.  He knew that the ladder meant that the heavens, where God dwelled, had broken open so that God could visit earth.  Jacob named the place Bethel, which means, "dwelling place of God."

When Jesus told Nathanael that he would see angels ascending and descending, Nathanael would think immediately of Jacob's ladder.  Nathanael would know that Jesus was promising that, just as Jacob experienced God's presence, so would Nathanael.

There is an odd thing about this story.  In the original Greek when Jesus says, "You will see greater things than these," he uses "you" singular, indicating that he is talking to Nathanael.  However, when he says, "You will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending," Jesus uses "you" plural.

In other words, Jesus was talking to Nathanael, but then he begins to talk to the disciples -- perhaps to all disciples -- even to us.  It is not just Nathanael, but all of us who will see great things -- heaven opened -- angels ascending and descending.

And that is exactly what happened.  After the resurrection, the disciples gathered at Jerusalem on the Day of Pentecost.  There, amidst tongues of fire and sounds of a windstorm, Peter preached and three thousand people walked down the aisle to be baptized.  It was an amazing day!  Heaven opened!  Angels of God ascending and descending!

And then a crippled beggar asked Peter for alms.  Peter said, "I have no silver or gold, but what I have I give to you; in the name of Christ, stand up and walk." And the man got up and started walking. Amazing!  Heaven opened!  Angels of God ascending and descending!

And then Saul went to Damascus to persecute Christians, but Jesus blinded him with a great light -- and dropped him to his knees -- and Saul became Paul, the great Christian missionary.  How amazing!  Heaven opened!  Angels of God ascending and descending!

You might say, that’s great, but it was two thousand years ago.  We haven't seen heaven or angels for a long time now. (put on glasses from Christmas Eve)

But we have!  Do you remember these from Christmas Eve.  It has only been a few weeks.  Have we forgotten already?  We do see angels ascending and decending.  With the eyes of faith we can see all that is good and just and right.  With the eyes of faith we can follow hope without stumbling.  With the eyes of faith we see the gift of God coming to us at Christmas, at Easter, in life, in death, in everything.

The heavens that opened when Jesus came have been open ever since.  Some people couldn't see it while Jesus was here on earth, and some still can't.  But eyes of faith see wondrous things happen all the time. Heaven opened!  Angels of God ascending and descending!

Now let’s not confuse this moment with a Romper Room Majic Mirrow.  When I look out into the world with the eyes of faith that were given to me at my baptism I see people caring for each other in times of all sorts of need.  I see people present for each other in illness, grief, and loss.  I see parents nurturing each other and their children.  I see quilts and sandwiches and used furniture and chilli gathered to help those less fortunate than ourselves.  I see justice.  I see love.  I see hope.  I see those things even in this city as we approach this week of prayer for Christian unity as Christians from every walk of life put aside their doctrinal differences for the sake of the unity we share in Christ Jesus.  I see those things through our church dollars that help in significant ways to heal the brokenness of this world. Heaven opened!  Angels ascending and descending!

God breaks through even in the most unlikely places.  We are only weeks away from our Annual Congregational meetings when we look over the past year and move into the coming year.  It is true that we are careful to listen to what God wants for the world and the direction that Jesus is calling us to.  And God blesses our community of faith because of it.  Our calling is to listen, respond and be transformed by those angelic and grace-filled moments! 

But it is only with eyes of faith that we can see the angels and the heavens. Nathanael had been a skeptic.  When first told of Jesus, he asked, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?"  But Philip invited him to come and see, and Nathanael came.  This time, it is Jesus who is doing the calling, not by command, but by recognizing his good character. Nathaniel is amazed that Jesus saw him under the fig tree before meeting him officially. He answers Jesus call. But Jesus chides him gently: “Do you believe because I said I saw you first?.” He tells Nathaniel: You will see greater things than this.  And Nathaniel did!

We too will see greater things.  Christ asks only that we come and see -- that we deal with Christ honestly -- that we give Christ a chance -- that we step out in faith.  If we will do that, we have no alternative but to see wondrous things. Heaven opened!  Angels ascending and descending!  And so, by the grace of God, we will. Amen.


 

wild flowers inside old work boots, we are called to put ourselves in the shoes of others

Sermon by Pastor Joel Crouse

Baptism of Our Lord

January 7, 2024


Genesis 1:1-5

Acts 19:1-7

Mark 1:4-11

This past week while we were in Nova Scotia, my father told me a story about an old family friend and classmate of his named David Corkum. Mr. Corkum has always had a raspy voice. He was definitely not a member of any choir. Dad described to me what had happened to David Corkum’s voice. Once, during Christmas break, when he and David and a group of other Lunenburg teenagers were fooling around on the shore by a wharf, one of them fell through the ice and couldn’t find his way back to the opening. His winter clothing began to absorb the icy water, and he started sinking into the frigid waters.. There was yelling and scrambling, but none of that was stopping what they could see happening through the ice. In the middle of the chaos, David stripped off his coat and boots, dove through the hole in the ice, and retrieved their friend Robert from the icy deep, saving his life. As a result, David Corkum became very ill for months, albeit recovering, but left with a damaged voice. He had saved a friend’s life while risking his own - certainly an act deserving of legendary heroism.

I have known Mr. Corkum my entire life but had never heard this story before. When I asked him why he had never told me about it, Mr. Corkum was reluctant to talk about it and squirmed at the title of “hero.” He reminded me that Lunenburgers have never been raised to be bystanders. He mentioned a documentary he had seen years earlier as a teacher about the “bystander effect” - which has been used to explain how dictators rise unchallenged to power and how victims of crime are not rescued - and his long-held hope that he would never be such a bystander. His actions proved his goal had been achieved. And that is why my father - rightfully proud of his friend - told his story.

What Mr. Corkum did was to bring order to chaos with an act of compassion. That is how our first lesson puts the act of God, and what God has done for us with Christmas. Into a disordered scene, God brought a person - an idea, a vision of the world - around which we can all organize. God did not do this with law and rules. Jesus is an earthly representation for us of compassion. Is there a better response to chaos?

Let’s consider for a moment what we mean by compassion, and how it is interpreted in the gospel. A word that we often use in its place is empathy. That is the ability to see and even feel how another person is feeling and what they are seeing. There have been plenty of books written about the value of emotional intelligence, which, distilled down, is also the ability to have empathy - to experience the world beyond us. But empathy has its shortfalls. It can be interpreted as a neutral act, neither good nor evil, and even both. For instance, if we consider the conversation that Jesus goes on to have with the Devil in the desert, we might certainly say that the Devil character demonstrates empathy - he sees inside Jesus, and uses those weaknesses, those gaps of faith, to tempt him. The shortfall of empathy is that it doesn’t require action. (Indeed, it even suggests that we need to have a connection first to those we help, which is obviously limiting.) Empathy is like crying at a sad movie: we feel the pain of the characters, but an hour later we go home to our own lives.

Compassion, however, requires the next step. It can be defined as the act of our seeing someone’s need and trying to help them - at a cost to ourselves. Compassion requires sight and recognition, and then action. The cost doesn’t have to be risking our life through a hole in the ice. It might mean the inconvenience of buying a coffee for a stranger on the street. It could mean a few extra dollars for a charity, or just saying hello on the elevator when you’d rather be texting.

But suddenly you can see how compassion is the ordered response to chaos. A lonely person feels supported. A poverty-stricken person receives a gift. Someone in danger - the ultimate human chaos - is saved.

The gospel that we hear every Sunday defines Jesus by the compassion he shows, and the compassion he teaches. He doesn’t just feel sympathy for the widow at the well; he goes and speaks to her. He doesn’t tell us to feel sad for the injured Samaritan; he tells us to help him. He doesn’t sympathize with the prodigal son; he urges us to welcome him.

Of course, our gospel lesson today features John the Baptist, a master of chaos, and certainly a concrete example - he precedes Jesus, stirring things up, and Jesus, who follows, soothes, and guides. John the Baptist reminds us that chaos can be healthy - the kind of chaos that challenges social norms and rejects the way things have always been. And Jesus shows us that the next step - the healing act - is compassion.

Here’s some bad news: plenty of studies have shown that the more money we have relative to society, the more power we hold, the more status we claim, the harder it is to show compassion. We see this all the time when people in power take from others without consideration. And in some ways, this is just human nature: the more power we hold, the less we need community to help us. But this is a big problem for society - it means that the people most able to help - with their influence, their talent, their treasure - may also be the least likely to do so. The gospel is constantly waking us up to this tendency. If it is good enough for Jesus, the Son of God, it is good enough for us.

Perhaps you made some New Year’s resolutions. To lose weight. Or stop smoking. To binge less on television. Apparently, one of the most popular resolutions is: to be happier. But perhaps there is one resolution we might all make - one tied to happiness and self-worth: to demonstrate more compassion. To respond to chaos with the gospel’s idea of order. To be the kind of people in our everyday lives, in the moments that appear to us, who, as Mr. Corkum put it, would save a person from the icy deep. Amen.


 

wild flowers inside old work boots, we are called to put ourselves in the shoes of others

Sermon by Pastor Nelson

First Sunday of Christmas

December 31, 2023


Isaiah 61:10-62:3

Galatians 4:4-7

Luke 2:22-40

Because I am preaching this sermon at St. Peters, Ottawa, Ontario and the three lessons, in the lectionary I follow, other than the gospel for this Sunday, seem to vary so much I will try to stick with just Luke 2:22-40. If you have read or heard my sermons before you know that is against my DNA but…In many ways, Luke 2:22-40 is the after story that is rarely shared during the advent season.

For many churches the dramatic presentations of the nativity, [such as at a bus stop presented by St. Peters.] Stop at the scene of baby Jesus in the manger surrounded by angels declaring, “glory to God in the highest.”

We all take pictures and beam with pride and sometimes laugh in delight, the play ends and everyone disburses. But today’s lesson reminds us that there is more to share about the birth and purpose of Jesus in the world than simply the nativity scene, no matter how creative we have been in showing it.

Our gospel today, reminds us that there is yet more to share about the birth and the purpose of Jesus in the world, than simply the nativity scene. In Luke we encounter features in a story-line that are not in Mark, Matthew, or John.

We find similarities between John’s birth announcement to Zechariah and Elizabeth, Jesus’ birth announcement to Mary and Joseph, and Simeon and Anna’s reactions in today’s gospel. There is no marital connection between Simeon and Anna but they have parallel responses. The gospel of Luke forms most of the theology for our church year and here we get part two with circumcision and presentation being interpreted by Simeon and Anna.

This story is unique to Luke. This story and Luke 2:40-47 portray Jesus as a person of Israel. There leaves no doubt that this Jesus is an observant Jew, even at his birth and into his youth, indeed his Jewish identity is reinforced even by his mother’s observance of purity laws related to childbirth. How “good” Christians can ignore all this and become “Jew haters” is beyond me. Luke also makes clear where Jesus’ identity and origins of piety are at. Yes, Jesus’ family exists among the poor. When Jesus talks about the poor, he is talking about himself. Jesus was a part of that economic margin in his own community.

If we are honest, we have to ask ourselves, where did we decide to glorify Jesus with our exorbitant buildings, stain glass windows and the like? Where did the idea of golden creche’s come from? How many of you grew up on a farm with real animals and all the dirt and smells that went with it. Not the sterile hog farms or dairy cows of today. Did I open another “can of worms?” Now Luke’s gospel does not dwell on the issue of poverty for Jesus’ family but let us always keep it in the back of our minds.

Luke now has Simeon and Anna serve as external interpreters of the significance of Jesus’ birth. Zechariah and Elizabeth, Mary and Joseph were insiders, now we have outsiders, Simeon and Anna added to the witnessing. Simeon spoke of Jesus as destined to be the glory of God’s people, Israel.

We have moved beyond angels now.

We now must move beyond the manger as well.

We now must make room for women and men, young and old, poor, disappointed, and unsuspecting.

The good news of Jesus’ birth is that insiders and outsiders of our immediate communities and families can carry the good news of God’s salvation, liberation, and acceptance, not just to others in the world, but to us as well.

Like Mary pondered the words of Simeon we need to be reminded of what else God can do. This is again what the rest of the church year will do, beginning with epiphany and then the Sundays in ordinary time.

Yes, this holy family is the ideal family, if we understand there is no such thing as an ideal family. The stories of Jesus in the temple, the birth stories of John and Jesus, enable Luke to provide constant reversal of expectations of what a “holy family” is like. I have to confess I grew up in that “ideal family.” One mother, one father, one sister and me.

But Luke uses his stories of the “holy family” to do away with those stereotypes even though the church in some circles continues to peddle it. In a few verses Luke shows a disconnection for Jesus from his earthly parents. Not in a disobedient way but in fact Jesus does not abandon his parents’ teaching, but fulfills all that is required of the law.

We hear many criticisms that Jesus lays against the empty traditions practiced by religious leaders and the empty rituals they held in high regard. When Jesus, as an adult, evaluates the practices of the religious leaders, he assumes reciprocal expressions of love of neighbour and love of God.

The tension that Jesus had with the law was never that as an outsider, but as one who had faithfully observed the rituals and figured out which ones did not work.

When I went to St. Paul’s, NFO, I had some credibility because I had 20 years in ministry, with 12 of those in my last parish. The pastor before me in NFO had been there 40 years. He had been a tremendous mission pastor but he had never taken them beyond “kindergarten.”

Dare I say, “a few years ago,” “I think here at St. Peter’s you had some of the same struggles.”

Anyone who ever raises a child has the same issue. How do we allow them to grow up and still protect them? Basically we can learn from Jesus that the practices of the law that subvert the command to love are unacceptable. Jesus repeatedly condemned those who attempted to flaunt their holiness before God, without hospitality toward neighbour.

Yes, Luke, some 2000 years ago, depicted a temple open to all that seek the presence of God, distinguishing between pausing to worship and honour God from practices that oppress and dishonour others. We in the church have continually struggled with the same issues.

I had the pleasure of starting my ministry when John the 23rd was doing something. Now Pope Francis seems to be stretching the boundaries again.

May we, as a group called Lutherans, always be open to love over law.

As we sift through all the early stories of Jesus, may we always realize what the stories tell us of the fulfillment of the promise is that God is indeed with us.

The bottom line in our gospels is that they are not meant to be biographies but they are seeking to undergird and strengthen our faith in God.

Both Simeon and Anna in our story today, reveal to Joseph and Mary theirs and Jesus’ future legacy. In doing so they are revealing ours.

Jesus was to be the hope of Israel – the Messiah and the long-awaited one—but as Simeon pointed out, Jesus was destined for the fall and rise of many in Israel and was a sign that would be contradicted again and again.

Furthermore Mary and Joseph suffered terribly because of their son’s mission. I would hope and pray that we, as parents, will never have to suffer for or over our children as Mary and Joseph did. But we know it happens to parents every day.

For Joseph, Mary and Jesus, joy, conflict, and pain laid ahead as a result of those who accepted or resisted God’s saving initiatives through Jesus’ mission and ministry.

Such is the legacy bequeathed to all who dare embody life through our lives,

Those of us who are willing to live as a part of “God’s family.” If we choose to live in love with one another, please do not feel that you will not suffer. Living as/in families, in fact, just living life, is and will always be a challenge. Though life had many different cultural values, then versus now, we realize that life interwoven with faith is never easy.

We do not know much about Jesus’ family, but we hear that they followed the laws of the day. We tend to think of them as very different from our own lives, from our own families, but just like us, they would have struggled to understand what they were called to be and to do.

In the face of all this mystery the human heart can only sing with gratitude. We live in the presence of God, and this sustains us through whatever seems impossible.

Let us live in thanksgiving which will open us to receive God’s promise and God’s gifts.

Let us pray,

God of life, we are all members of families, often struggling and imperfect.

Help us to remember Mary, and Joseph, and Jesus who lived together in faith and love.

Show us how to love, accept, and be grateful for our own families.

Teach us how to forgive family members who have wounded us.

And finally, grant us the grace to be the people you call us to be.

[...]

Amen.


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