A Reflection: "The Faith That Sees"

by Rev. James Farrell

It is said of Abraham, that his faith was credited to him as righteousness…Abram as started life, later to be called Abraham, was the father of nations and a pillar of the Christian, Jewish and Muslim faiths. I hope we have learned something from being in the presence of Jesus. The faith that is credited "as righteousness" can be a faith that doesn't smack of the high profile of Abraham but, perhaps the faith of an unschooled, unprivileged person seeking God as the light of the world…in the words of such a one I share her faith story that it may inspire our faith. It comes from the oral tradition of the south and I share it in the language of its intent because sometimes the confusing mysteries of faith come most alive, in the simple.

Some folks may not think that love is much of nothing. But I do. I think that love is God, and you can't say that God is much of nothing. Least ways you can't say it, if you know Him. I know him. Oh, I ain't never seen Him. Or I ain't never hear his big voice come out of the clouds, but I know Him.

It's a feeling. Well, no maybe not a feeling, maybe it's a thing in my heart, or gut or head. Maybe it's my spirit that gits a glance or a hearing of His Spirit. Whatever it is, it's way beyond what I can tell about.

The first time I knowed I knowed Him, I was eleven. I was sitting on an old log down by Cherrylog Creek watching minnows scooting like tiny silver flashes around a pine branch that had fallen into the water. Dozens of them. Scoot and circle and gather up, then separate to scoot and circle some more. A brown water snake was snoozing on a limb not far from my head, and Under, our hound dog that daddy named, Under, 'cause he's always under something, was laying there sniffing at a turtle that didn't pay him no mind.

Then I heard the soft crunching of an animal walking close stepping slow on the dead leaves and pine straw. Under, raised one ear and I glanced across the creek to see a doe ambling toward us.

I didn't blink an eye and whispered to Under, to stay down. Deer can sense a movement in a flash. She stopped to drink a dozen or so feet from us and I could of cried with the joy of it. I guess I love deer more than any other animal, nearly.

The doe didn't glance our way and then when she was done drinking, I crossed my fingers that she wouldn't go off right then. And she didn't. She twisted her neck back and forth, then she moved from behind a clump of cattails and I could see her sides was all swole. She moved only a few steps and my heart raced as I watched her body tighten. She twisted her neck back and forth some more and then she sank into the mossy bank.

I set froze to that stump as she laid there heaving with the movements of birthing. Under, showed no interest at all and didn't even notice the turtle slide into the water. In a minute he was snoozing away.

Tears run down my face and dropped down on my dress and I didn't move a twitch. I never been so still in all my life. It seemed like hours passed, or years or lifetimes and every muscle in me hurt. My stomach knotted up every time the doe's did. Then I seen the head come out. Wet and slick and limp. I waited and strained inside as though I could help her. The longer I watched the agony of the doe the more I panicked. How long does it take, O how long?

Finally the doe laid its head down. Its eyes closed. I thought it was dead. I raced across the creek, slipping on the slick rocks. The doe's head jerked up and for a second or two she looked like she was gonna try to stand. But then her body convulsed nearly like Alice's does when she is having them fits and in a minute it was there. A gooey, slippery slob that was all skinny legs. The cutest, sweetest little thing I'd ever seen. I had to drop to my knees, I got so weak.

That's when it happened. I looked right into the eyes of that doe and my life ain't never been the same since.

How can I tell you what it was like?

How can I tell you about the end of lightening?

How can I tell you about the stopping of rivers or the turning off of the night? What's to say? Right then in them big liquid, sad, wise, dark eyes was the story of Life. And the story of God and the story of love.

I seen a picture of Jesus once. He had blue eyes and I remember thinking it just wasn't right. Them eyes was blank and pale and they didn't move nothing. And just then, looking on them quiet gentle eyes with the gentle sounds of calm all around me I knowed if I would paint the eyes of Jesus they would be just like the doe.        

And then the quiet and the calm overcame me, like pouring sweet, warm peace into the top of my head and it flowing oh so slowly into my face and neck and shoulders and all the way down, till the peace left me as limp as the baby deer.

I didn't touch that doe. All I done was squat there on my knees and stare in them eyes. I had to touch my own face to see if I was still there. Then I whispered to the doe and the baby. To the trees and the bushes and to the creature. I whispered, "Thank you"

I told mamma about it as best I could. She hugged me close and called Daddy and I tried to tell him and he got right misty‑eyes and patted my head. And when mamma had diphtheria later on, and all of a sudden took a turn for the worse, she held my hand and said it right, as she laid there, while Daddy was going over the mountain to get Doc Murphy, she said it. I knowed she was dying and she did too. She held hard on to my hand and she said, "Remember the doe Lowellen. Always remember the doe. Don't ever forget about love. Don't never." And I never did. Amen. (I believe this was from a book written by Tex Sample.)
 

A Message:

By Rev. James Farrell

Today is annual meeting day… a time to think about where we have been in ministry over the past year…and a time to think about where we might like to go in 2006. Everyone has their own favourite part of the reports that I hope you have had a chance to take home or will take home…some like to see the narratives of the work of committees…others, who are more balance-sheet minded, will like to look at how we have carried out ministry and consider questions like: "have we managed to fund all the work we intended to?"

I hope you will find things of interest in all respects as you look back at the work of 2005 and I hope you may be inspired about the work, the challenges, the opportunities that face us for 2006.

The church is a spiritual place, a place of mission, a place of business when it tries to fund its spiritual and mission enterprises…it is a 'home' place where generations of family gather to be family before God…it is a social place with singles and doubles and in betweens…in many ways it is a microcosm of society but, that part of society that is seeking to live faithfully before God.

We are fortunate to be gathering this day having done ministry to the best of our ability throughout 2005 and doing so with the integrity of all who support and offer energy to the work and mission of Westminster.  Much of what we do is routine in some ways and that is just part of being involved in the ongoing ministry of being the church in society.

Our biblical ancestors often encountered God when they were doing the ordinary tasks of daily living—fishing, sweeping the floor, working in the garden or minding sheep. At such moments many realized that the time was now for them to live out their faith.

When do we hear God calling us? How do we respond to the urgency of "the time is now"?

We are all called to be faithful to God, often at times when we least expect it. At those moments we may be like Jonah—trying to avoid God's summons. Or we may be like the four fishers, ready to drop what we are doing and follow Jesus.

Whatever response we make, God does not give up on us. Like the prodigal's father…like the family from which the sons of thunder came and from which Mrs.  Zebedee ventured out to support the band of followers taken up with the cause of the traveling preacher from Nazareth…in all of these as with our mission and ministry, God does not give up on us but calls us into the mission of the now.

What is God's "the time is now" message to us, and to our faith community at this moment in our lives? Steep yourself in some of those implications for a moment.

Jonah was called to a ministry that completely went against everything he believed in. The call of God to head to Nineveh was out of step with everything that he believed …everything he was brought up to believe …everything his generation believed.

As places go, Nineveh was really not a lot different from other cities of the time…morally speaking that is. It's size is mentioned with emphasis so 'to be sure' that was something that people thought of when they thought of Nineveh.

It was located on the Tigris River in what is now Iraq about as far from Baghdad as Medicine Hat is from Calgary. If biblical historians are to be believed, in Jonah's day the city was perhaps about the size of Calgary 20 years ago.

According to the call of God that Jonah was reporting, it was his job to get the people to repent and things would go better for them. If not, they would perish. Now remember, this history was recorded by the winners. Jonah being one of them.

Miracle of miracles they did clean up their act and for that generation at least, no destruction befell them.

Perhaps the biggest miracle here is that Jonah heard the call of God upon his life…and acted out of that call. God hasn't stopped calling us to turn from one place and to turn to another but I think we don't listen as well as Jonah did.

Jonah would have been just as happy to allow God to do God's mightiest against Nineveh but that was not what was being laid on his heart. And by following his heart and not his head, the record shows that big change happened there, in that time…amid the efforts of his ministry.

Many people, according to Jonah's biographers, were brought to a place of new understanding…life in the region changed for the better with an awareness of God in the picture.

Now things weren't perpetually rosy and a history of the area is no less coloured with conflict than anywhere else in the Middle East…in fact, within the 200 years that followed this story Nineveh had ceased to be, but for Jonah's generation at least, things were pretty good.

If we are to learn anything from the Jonah story, it is that God casts a flood light into places we would rather not look…God does it with people of surprise…such was Jonah's experience… and such was the experience of those who encountered Jonah.

When Jesus called the brothers to embark on a journey that was a departure from their father's life & lifestyle I'm sure they wondered what would become of their work.

Yet from their small beginning came a world-religion and evidence of the wasteful love of God was lived out into not only their early community but into communities for two thousand years.

From little things come big things if we will let them grow…and small uncertain voices do make a difference.

Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge. The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child.

The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbour was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there.

When his mother asked him what he had said to the neighbour, the little boy said, "Nothing, I just helped him cry."

Whether we help people laugh or cry or find ways to build a future or denounce war-cries or contribute to mission needs anywhere in the world, including over the fence right next door… in all these things we are making a difference. We are being Jonah, we are being Simon and Andrew … we are answering God's call to make a difference.

I hope in the call of Jesus we struggle to live out as a community and we find strength not only to help someone else cry…but also to help someone else live. Amen.

A Message: "Cherishing or Worshipping the Memories?"

This past week I shared in a funeral service for a woman who, at the time of her death, was the longest serving member of Westminster United Church. In fact she told me how her father was instrumental in building the original structure on this block in 1914.

For some it may feel like ancient history to talk about things from 1914…(take out the baptismal font and show that there is an inscription…better yet, walk into the congregation with it…showing it to people and asking them to think about the history that it has seen…the lives that have been baptized by water collected in it…those who went off to war, WW1 & WW2 etc…those still young in the congregation etc)

Ask the question: "is it fitting that we should build a box to house this font? To protect it? To preserve it for sacred use?

I think so!

Peter often gets a bum rap…people remember Jesus saying, "get behind me satan" others remember him denying Jesus… a story that we will be coming up on soon enough…we retell this story of the transfiguration and of course highlight Peter's central role in it. His desire to lock it down.

But Peter isn't some misguided monster. He is all of us…probably more than we want to admit.  We want to hold on to our special histories while at the same time we long to forget the stuff that haunts us.

That Peter was bent on preserving the moment is wonderful…it says it captured his spirit in ways that few other things did…good for him to say, in essence…I'm so excited, and just can't help it…let's build stuff to mark this moment.

He had seen Jesus shape shift from normal man to radiant angel of sorts…what do you do with that?

What would you do with that?

Have you ever had something happen that was so magnanimous in your life that it left you transfigured? What did you want to do with the experience?

Repeat it, no doubt…preserve it, I suspect. Revisit it I'm sure! Time and time again.

I've had some of those experiences and because you are here today, I trust you have too…at least you believe in the possibility. It's part of what has you connected with this moment of worship. So our connection with Peter is more solid than we may think.

We have much to learn from him.

Some people, when they don't know what to say, say nothing. Not Peter. In Mark's account of the transfiguration, in response to the extraordinary events that he and the other two disciples have witnessed, he says aloud the first thing to come into his head.

He had the unstoppable urge to organize, to manage, perhaps to control what seemed to be getting out of hand. Peter got the urge to build something. I believe that folks throughout history who have known a special or unexplainable touch of God that has left them changed have also had that urge.

The churches that dot Europe and the Middle East are testimony to such movement of the spirit in the lives of persons and their concrete response that has grown out of that spiritual movement—one often shared with others.

Is it sin to build or is it faith?

Concerning the question of special gifts in the face of a starving world, Jesus said, "the poor you will always have with you but what has been done here will be spoken of through every generation."

When we get "building bound" and unable to move about in ministry we might well want to ask about the wisdom, in fact, the faith that would have us pour resources into structures.

But nothing is that simple, is it? Like this baptismal font and the little rose window in Memorial Hall mounted high above our communities sharing space, the elements of history speak to us from beyond the years of our memory and invite us to remember where we came from and at what price we have this life of faith.

The cross that stands central in our church is exactly such an emblem, such a symbol, and we have it there so that we don't forget who we are and where we have been.

I think that's where poor Peter was coming from…and good on him for being open enough to say so. This is special let's not forget it!

But Peter followed a man with no address, Jesus like so many folks today, was homeless…he was always on the move, in fact he had a totally different concept of home.

The idea of a conventional response to what Peter had witnessed was, at one and the same time understandable, and absurd. Fortunately, his faintly embarrassing suggestion seems to be pushed aside by an even more extraordinary event; God spoke!

If Jesus' miraculous appearance with two towering pillars of Israel's' history in the persons of Elijah and Moses were not enough to answer the question in the previous chapter of Mark [8:27], "Who do people say that I am?" …now, even the most ignorant reader of the gospel is left with no doubt about Jesus' identity.

He is he of whom God speaks! It doesn't get any bigger than that! If the event needed any punctuation to solidify its purpose it just happened!

I was a bit sad when I realized that I would likely never be able to say again what I did at Dorothy's funeral this week. That this woman's father was instrumental in building the original structure that began the life of Westminster Church in Medicine Hat. Sure in 1914 it was not a United Church but a Presbyterian church. It would be another 11 years before the Untied Church of Canada would be formed.

But that link to the start is really something important and personally connecting to a story that dates back nearly a hundred years to Mr.William Cousley's dream and having that dream reflected in Dorothy's life…a person who literally for the last 94 years grew up in this church…all this served to make me feel connected to something and someone that I will never again have the opportunity to directly celebrate.

Dorothy's death means that, as far as I know, there is no more surviving persons whose parents sought to start the first church on this block…if I'm wrong, please let me know.

But in the end it is not about William Cousley or Dorothy Crane but about everyone touched by the spirit of God throughout the years and their connection one with another and their common reach back in time to that special touch of grace that made them desire to do something with their faith... to acknowledge it, to celebrate it, to mark it as worthy of remembrance.

It is a "common connection" with a hope for the future of one's children and grandchildren and links to one's special touch and hope for yet another special touch of God to transform other lives and give them gifts that endure.

(lift the baptismal font again)

Yes there is a connection with that history, with that God who was pleased and is pleased to be known among us. And we do well to remember it, to celebrate it as a way to point us back to help strengthen us to move ahead.

Even Jesus didn't stay up on the Mount of Transfiguration. Jesus had to come down and get busy, do stuff in the world. The glory that shone through him had to shine further through others…even us.

Next week we begin the journey of Lent when Jesus is preparing to turn towards Jerusalem where the hard stuff is going to happen.

Perhaps the message is that it's in the valley that we work out our salvation and we can reflect back on those times when we've been touched by an angel. And that's the way life is.

Like Jesus, James, John, and Peter on Mount Tabor, we too can experience moments of ecstasy when the light of God shines through so brightly it almost blinds us. We feel so close to God it's almost as if we can reach out and touch God. I've heard some of you share these stories.

On the other hand, like Jesus, we must move on to the Mount of Olives; we, too, will experience moments of agony. During those moments, life is miserable. We feel that no one loves us. We find fault with everyone and everything. We may doubt whether God actually exists.

When these moments happen, the agony and ecstasy help us recall that Jesus also experienced these same high and low points in his life. And like Jesus on Mount Tabor, on the Mount of Olives, and in the tomb, God's healing hand will touch us. [Jim Vargo]

So, we have to cherish the experiences…the memories that give us a connection to something greater than ourselves…we have also to be careful not to worship the experiences and to try to pigeonhole them into something that we can hold onto for ever…it is a very fine line and one that we need to look at often…are we cherishing for sustained strength and hope in our low places or are we trying to cement our memories into a place of worship that sticks and never breathes with life but becomes instead a faith museum to the past…there is no question that it is a dance that we do … but a necessary dance just the same because God is known in the action and the honesty of the dance. Amen.

Message: "A Tribute to Families on Christian Family Sunday"

by Rev. James K. Farrell

A little church in the suburbs suddenly stopped buying from its regular office supply dealer. So, the dealer telephoned Deacon Brown to ask why.

"I'll tell you why," said Deacon Brown. "Our church ordered some pencils from you to be used in the pews for visitors to register."

"Well," interrupted the dealer, "didn't you receive them yet?"

"Oh, we received them all right," replied Deacon Brown.

"However, you sent us some golf pencils...each stamped with the words, 'Play Golf Next Sunday'."

Our world is full of images and messages about why people shouldn't be connected with a worshipping community …those pew pencils represent only one of those messages.

Some years ago, Ralph Milton wrote about Bev, his partner in life and a United Church minister, and himself spending a weekend with friends connected to a church community that was in trauma.

Details are not relevant here, but there was struggle and disharmony with a pastor who was encouraged to leave, and in the wake of that departure there was pain and distrust. And some cut themselves off—or perhaps felt they had been cut off—as a result.

Ralph said, 'It's proved a costly rupture, both financially and otherwise, and it brought that community to its knees.'

Which is not a bad thing.

On your knees is not a bad position from which to wonder where your strength comes from—where you are connected to the source of life.

A dysfunctional family, or a dysfunctional church, or a dysfunctional individual often needs to come right down to bedrock before the healing can begin. The folks at AA know this. That church community knows this and they have seen the power and the Spirit break forth.

Which brings us back to the pruning metaphor.

A grapevine that has not been pruned for a number of years grows branches all over the place. It will sprout in every direction and produce great quantities of leaves, but very little fruit. And the fruit you can find among all the foliage is sour, because it takes sunlight to sweeten the grapes, and one of the reasons for pruning (especially mid-summer pruning when the growth is most vigorous) is to get the sunlight to that fruit.

But then look more closely at the vine, especially the old vine that's been pruned year after year. It is gnarled and twisted and covered with the scars of pruning. But the central stock is thick and strong and if you could see below the soil you'd find deep, vigorous roots that know where the nourishment is.

It's a fragile metaphor, but a rich one and one the church has often clung to... it can be summed up with the thought that 'what doesn't kill you will make you stronger.'

As I approached my study time for this Christian family Sunday the media was heralding stories of a Calgary woman who partied while her two young children were left to die in her apartment… a woman who is now being deported back to her native Japan from which she arrived in Canada as a student. Rie Fujii had left her children—one-year-old Domenic and three-month old Gemini—behind for what she said was supposed to be one night.

But when she missed the bus the next day, one day turned into two and then into more than a week as she said she kept thinking the kids would be OK.

She placed Gemini in a garbage bag and put her in a dumpster. Her body has never been found. She wrapped Domenic in a blanket and left his body in the apartment and returned to Cochrane.

Other news accounts of a baby being found in a dumpster in Vancouver where police Const. Tim Fanning said there was no trauma to the newborn's body and police are treating the discovery of the body as infanticide.

A 12 year old child in our fair city is charged with the murder of her family, an act which has shocked the whole community … It seems to me that the reasons to connect with a worshipping community—the reasons that encourage us to be a part of a vine relationship with God and one another—are more numerous than we can ever appropriately articulate.

Families are not easy stuff…the church family is not easy stuff…but connection to and the embrace of family and church family and community is by far the more sustainable journey than the journey of broken relationships—for it is a journey that invites people to embrace God and meet God in the family unit.

In light of the struggles that most parents experience at one level or another, I would like to share this tribute that I received via the information highway this week and you may have too. If you have, please listen one more time and if you haven't I hope it is a blessing to you this Christian family Sunday.

"This is for the mothers and fathers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, "It's okay honey, I'm here."

The parents who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end soothing crying babies who can't be comforted.

This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.

For all the mothers who run car-pools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.

This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.

This is for the persons whose priceless art collections are hanging on their refrigerator doors.

And for all the moms & dads who froze their buns on metal bleachers at football or soccer games instead of watching from the warmth of their cars, so that when their kids asked, "Did you see me?" they could say, "Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world," and mean it.

This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair when they stomp their feet and scream for ice cream before dinner. And for all the mothers who count to ten instead, but realize how child abuse happens.

This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the (grand) mothers who wanted to, but just couldn't find the words.

This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat.

For all the moms & dads who read "Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for a year. And then read it again. "Just one more time."

This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.

This is for all the folks who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.

This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home—or even away at college.

This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with stomach aches assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right away.

This is for parents whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words to reach them.

For all the mothers who bite their lips when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.

For all the families of the victims of school shootings, and the families of those who did the shooting.

For the parents of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.

This is for all the parents who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.

What makes a good parent anyway?

Is it patience?

Compassion?

Broad hips? …or Shoulders?

The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time?

Or is it in the heart?

Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time?

The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby?

The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when you just want to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in your home?

Or the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?

The emotions of parenthood are universal and so our thoughts are for young mothers and fathers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation...

And mature mothers & fathers learning to let go…For working parents and stay-at-home parents.

Single parents and married parents.

Those with money, those without.

This is for you all. For all of us who care about family. Hang in there. In the end we can only do the best we can.

"Tell" them that we love them. And pray because "Home is what catches you when you fall - and we all fall."

I woke Thursday morning to the story on Canada AM of a 17 year old boy…Wesley Doig, who was where he needed to be to be able to catch the 18 month old baby girl of his life-long neighbour as she was dropped from a second story window to escape the flames of near certain death. Of course he was hailed a hero but really he was lucky …lucky to be there, to be able to do what his heart would have wanted to do—if asked.

"LOVE is what catches you when you fall - and we all fall."

The picture on your bulletin cover this morning is of a friend of ours who has stayed with us many times over our years here in Medicine Hat…she has gone through a marriage breakup…the birth of a new child at a difficult time in her life, a move that has taken her away from two of her children and placed her in the struggles of finding her way in a new relationship…through that, her love and commitment to her children has been the piece that gives her strength. In her fractured family context, and looking at that picture…I can ask, "Does God love her?" Does God love the child she holds in her arms? Does God love the children that live apart from her?

Of course!

"God's LOVE is what catches us when we fall - and we all fall." Whether that love is felt through the arms of a mother, the support of a friend, the embrace of a sibling, the hope or help of the church, or the outreach of a community, it is what keeps us connected to the vine that is our strength, our support, our encouragement and our sustaining love this Christian family Sunday and always. Amen

A Message

by Taylor Croissant

Acts begins by recounting where the Gospel of Luke had left off:  Jesus had returned to the Apostles as the Risen Christ.  We are told that Jesus stayed with them forty days after the resurrection on Easter.  What Jesus and the Apostles did during that time is for the most part a mystery.  Jesus is said to have proved to them several times that he was indeed physically alive, and spent his final earthly days teaching the disciples about the Kingdom of God.  The Disciples asked Jesus if this would be the time in which he would re-establish the Davidic monarchy and become the King of a United Judah and Israel.  We know that this was not the calling of Jesus Christ; we know that he would become the Prince of Peace to whom rulers of every nation would bow.  So we can sing triumphalistic Easter hymns like ‘Thine is the Glory’ and ‘Crown Him with Many Crowns’.

The Day of Ascension can be seen as the fulfillment of the Advent promise told to us by the prophet Isaiah: For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.  Jesus tells his disciples to stay in Jerusalem and wait for the promise of the Father.  With that Jesus left the Apostles and returned to heaven.  Now of course people in the first century believed that heaven was just beyond the sky, Jesus just needed to fly up past the clouds, so we are told Jesus jumped on a cloud and was whisked away not much unlike an elevator.  We in the 21^st century have the advantage of men like Copernicus and Galileo who tell us that there is an entire universe beyond the clouds.  I think then that in saying Christ literally did fly up into the sky, Luke may have taken some creative license in telling the story.  However this occurred though, the important part of the story is that Jesus was no longer physically with the disciples.

I’m sure many of you know that this past Friday the movie based on the Da Vinci Code came out in theatres.  This book has been fairly controversial in that its plot deals with doubt of the divinity of Christ and denies the resurrection. These aren’t exactly new ideas.  But because of the format they are delivered in, a captivating page turner and now block-buster movie, many have been quick to defend these fundamentals of the Christian faith.  I don’t really see it as a vicious assault against the faith, even though I’m convinced of Christ’s Divinity and the truth of the Resurrection, it’s just a book after all, a piece of fiction.  Dan Brown, the author of The Da Vinci Code, has many times asserted that his book is a piece of fiction, but the plot does borrow on the belief that Jesus escaped Crucifixion and left the Disciples.  He and his wife, Mary Magdalene, fled to France where they started a family who would later become the French Royal Family.  This is certainly not a new idea.  The origins of that story to the best of my understanding are that a few hundred years ago, a man in France owned an inn and claimed that buried underneath were the bones of Christ.  Another man purchased the inn from him and circulated the legend of Christ being the founder of the French monarchy.  This story is as untrue today as it was then.  The disciples asked Jesus if he was to become the King of Israel.  Jesus said that God alone knows such things.  I think that we can fairly comfortably say that if Jesus did not become the King of Israel, he definitely did not become the King of France.

Ascension, however it occurred was the final stage of the Resurrection.  Christ was raised three days after his death on the cross, the gospel accounts differ on how often he visited his Apostles in bodily form after this, but forty days after the resurrection he ascended, he was no longer of this earth.  There were no bones of Christ, his resurrection body did not die again, he was eternally raised and is a mystery we will never understand, Christ left this earth in a physical way, promising to return founding a new heaven and a new earth.  Ascension is the fulfillment of the Advent name sake Emmanuel: God with us.  In this event we see Jesus as he is and has always been even if we were blind to it: The Christ, the Messiah, God’s anointed one, the King of Kings.

Having their beloved teacher leave them, the Apostles are thrown into disarray.  They freeze when faced with reality that it is up to them to now do the work of Jesus, to fulfill the great commission.  So they wait, filled with fear that they will be killed by Herod.  So they wait, unsure of themselves and afraid of failure. So they wait.

What can this story mean for us today?  When do we wait for the Holy Spirit to stir us from placidness?  All of us know what it is Christ calls us to do: Feed the hungry, clothe the naked, comfort the ill, love’s God’s people.  But how often do we make excuses to not do these things?  “I’d like to volunteer someday… someday but not today.” “I don’t have time I’m so busy.”  Why even when we know what we should be doing, we don’t do it?  We all know that we should eat healthy and stay in shape, but it takes a doctor telling you you’re about to get diabetes before we change our diet and exercise. It takes a disaster sometimes before we react, before we get our act in gear, before we slow down and examine life.  Perhaps we need the Spirit to push us into what we need to do, that may be the human condition.  The Spirit may be calling but maybe we are not listening? Or maybe ignoring?

We are a fairly healthy congregation at Westminster.  But even healthy people need to have an annual physical at the doctor.  Are we at risk of becoming an unhealthy congregation?  Are we close to a disaster we don’t see coming?  I don’t know.  I know that we are an established church, and as the church matures, the people lose their enthusiasm.  I feel us becoming a bit apathetic.  Now remember that I say this as a member of this church, who grew up in this church. Don’t get me wrong there are very committed people here at Westminster.  But I am challenging everyone here; the Spirit is calling just as it did to the Apostles.  What more can we do at Westminster?  We are a healthy congregation, what is our ministry?  I’m not going to suggest anything, that’s up to you.  There are many committees in this church that keep the work of Christ ongoing.  Don’t wait for the Spirit to push you, because the Spirit is already pushing.  Join a committee and share your gifts.  What projects can we undertake as a church? Not what to we do already.  What new things can we do?  Once again I’ll suggest nothing, that’s up to you.

We heard in the Gospel, Christ left his disciples saying “love one another as I have loved you.”  How shall we show our love?  Let us not be afraid of failure, or of what others might think or say.  Let us not wait, let us do the work of the ascended Christ, the King of Kings.  Amen.

My Year at St. Andrew’s

By Taylor Croissant

Nothing says that Matthias was better suited to being an apostle than Barsabbas.  They were both around from the time of Jesus’ Baptism, Peter and the other Apostles had just spun a bottle, pulled a name out of a hat, chose a number between one and ten and Matthias became the replacement Apostle for Judas.  I’ve gone to Westminster United since I was 8 years old, 14 years, in fact Pentecost next week will make 7 years since my confirmation.  And during that time I have had many peers also go to this church, some of them have left the church feeling that it does not satisfy what they want out of life; others have faithfully continued to be a blessing in our church community and remained active within it.  But among all us young people I was called to be a clergyperson in Christ’s Church.  Their certainly are smarter, more handsome, harder working, taller, more friendly people who God could have chosen, but God called me to the ordered ministry.  This church’s other young people have equally ambitious goals, Med school or law school, Mike McOuat went out to become a teacher, he did and also became a youth pastor here.  I’ll tell you right now if I wanted someone I’d have picked Drew Weiss, he’s much smarter than me, I’d say he could do anything he puts his mind to.  But God had other plans for Drew, just as he made plans for me, to shepherd God’s people.

The story of Matthias is a good one for College Sunday.  For any of you who have a UCW calendar you may have seen as I did that two weeks ago was actually St. Matthias Day on the 15th.  Tradition has it that Matthias went out and was martyred for the Gospel, in fact he was beheaded.  I’m not too excited to compare myself with St. Matthias now knowing he had his head chopped off with an axe.

So I began my theological education last year at St. Andrew’s Theological College in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan.  An absolutely gorgeous building, as you enter the University of Saskatchewan campus through the Memorial Gates we are the very first building on Campus.  This is a testament to the enormous influence Seminaries once held in universities, as St. Andrew’s and Emmanuel College were the first two buildings of the University of Saskatchewan.  It literally seems like orientation was 3 weeks ago.  All three seminaries in the STU, that’s the Saskatoon Theological Union comprised of St. Andrew’s, Emmanuel and St. Chad’s the Anglican College and the Lutheran Seminary LTS, we all took a retreat the first weekend of school and stayed at a Benedictine Monastery in Muenster, Saskatchewan.  The highlight of this trip was without question the founding of the Seminary’s hockey team, the STU X-Men, whom I proudly say I am the Captain of, even though I am the goalie.  We didn’t win a single game all year, but we did win some fights, our professors were torn about whether or not we should be fighting. 

I have been in post-secondary education for four years now, and I can say without question that the four professors at St. Andrew’s are the four best professors I have ever had, and all for different reasons.  They keep that place running despite over-whelming odds.  Over the Christmas break the President of our College was let go by our Board, one would think this would throw the College into havoc, but Laura Balas was hired to be our temporary President while things were sorted out and with the faculty’s care we came out on top.  Then the next crisis came, St. Andrew’s was amalgamated six year ago with St. Steven’s College in Edmonton.  We were at risk of losing our ATS, that’s the American Theological Schools, accreditation because St. Stephen’s was not able to gain ATS accreditation on their own.  So realizing it wasn’t going to work out, the two colleges parted ways and de-amalgamated.  This was the best for these two institutions as both fulfill different roles in Spiritual and Theological education. 

Seminary is so bizarre compared to the regular university.  At university when I’m done my class I go home or eat lunch.  In seminary after Christian Scriptures Class its time for chapel.  I loved chapel, three times a week, throughout the entire year I didn’t miss one chapel service.  My mood for the rest of the day depended solely on what hymns we sung in chapel that day.  There was no singing involved in any other part of my university education, (Jordan and) I never went to the cafeteria after economics and belted out some “Make a Joyful Noise.”  It’s not just chapel though, afterwards everyone ate lunch together in the Great Hall, the whole College.  Eating and laughing under the giant coat of arms of St. Andrew’s on the equally giant fireplace.  It’s a very impressive room.  I never ate my meals with my professors in university or with all the political science students at the same time either 

I am the youngest student at St. Andrew’s; there aren’t very many young people in seminary.  Apparently this was quite an extraordinary year though; there were four of us under thirty, this after there being only around four people under thirty in the last twenty years.  So I definitely am the baby, I certainly feel like it.  Although I love everyone there, sometimes I feel like I’m being mothered. 

St. Andrew’s has two hobby horses of discussion in the classroom and in chapel.  Peace making and Feminism, but mostly feminism.  The things I cooked up were in retrospect pretty dumb, such as “would Jesus use his gift of healing to cure himself of a cold?”  Don, my theology professor always had an answer though.  “Well that’s a good question, Paul Tillich would say… Dietrich Bonhoffer would say…” then he’d quote them from one of their books totally by memory.

I’d feel bad if I didn’t mention this guy Jeff.  Adam and I one day wrote a list of the top ten funniest quotes of Jeff’s.  I have to share with you the top one.  We were sitting and having lunch and Jeff is telling Adam and me about this new board game he got.  “Have you ever played boggle, I just got it the other day.” Christine, our Hebrew Bible professor was sitting beside us and overheard and remarked, “oh yeah boggle, I played that when I was a kid.” Jeff says “I didn’t know that game was so old!” His jaw drops after realizing what he just said, the best part is that she is only 5 years older than Jeff.

Seminary was unreal, I learnt so much in just a year, a year that flew by.  I know that I am being groomed into a pastor, slowly.  My professors work to shape us, to fulfill the words of the first Psalm:

But their delight is in the law of God,

and on that law they meditate day and night.

They are like trees planted beside streams of water,

yielding their fruit in due season.

            Their leaves do not wither,

            and whatever they produce shall prosper

A Message: "Sharing the Light"

By Rev. James Farrell

[This message was prepared by Elizabeth Brown for use on Conference Sunday, 2006. It has been modified for this Christian Family Sunday and for the Westminster context.]

I'd like to begin today by asking you to think back to when you were a child in school – first in elementary school and then, perhaps, as you were older, in middle or high school. Remember when games were played either outside at recess or lunchtime or during gym class? Do you recall how the teams were chosen?

Often the process involved having two leaders or captains who systematically named certain individuals to their teams. As the names were called out and kids rushed to their captain's side, the choosing group became smaller and smaller until there were only a few kids left – who were then divided up equally to take their place on the two teams.

Does this bring back any memories? If you were small and awkward or considered a geek, you were probably one of the last chosen. If you were big, strong, athletic and popular, you were most likely among the first. Each scenario has its own pitfalls.

If one experienced the humiliation of being among the last to be chosen, those feelings may have remained with that person for years – even to adulthood. The pressure of having to perform the best for those chosen first, can affect one's self esteem for years as well. Thankfully, in our day and time, most teachers have a more sane and fair way of choosing kids for teams. But for many who had to endure this process, it can be a painful memory indeed.

I can't help but think of this kind of ritual as we listened to the story of the choosing of Saul in the first reading this morning. All the tribes of Israel were brought together first and the tribe of Benjamin was singled out. Then all the families of the tribe of Benjamin were gathered, and the Matrite family was picked. Finally, all the men of the Matrite family were gathered, and Saul was chosen.

But rather than shouting in victory and running to Samuel's side (to be on his team), Saul is found hiding in the baggage. It's not that Saul was a weakling or clumsy; the story states that he stood head and shoulders above the rest. It's not that he was a geek or unpopular; we hear that when he was found, the people cheered, "Long live the king!" So what was it that caused Saul to hide among the baggage? Did he feel the great and awesome pressure of the rights and duties of being king and wasn't sure he could live up to this title?

Did he fear that he might be the object of neighbouring nations anger? Was he a solitary fellow who didn't like the limelight despite being chosen? Or was he afraid because others might laugh at him because they didn't think he'd do a good job?

Apparently most folks felt that Samuel had picked the right man for the job because they did cheer him on. But there were some – not many, but enough – who the story identifies as "worthless fellows", who despised him and didn't bring him a present as tradition dictated.

Perhaps that's what Saul was afraid of…this agitating brood of worthless fellows.

Being chosen – first or last – has its benefits and costs.

It's always a struggle in the church and the world to celebrate our God-given gifts. It's a fine balancing act that not many of us do well. We're taught from a young age to be humble and not to brag about the gifts and talents that make us who we are. But we're also encouraged and invited to celebrate those same gifts when we hear the gospel message about "letting our light shine" as we serve God and develop our gifts. I'm sure we can all remember saying, in response to an announcement or invitation to share our gifts and talents, something like, "I'm not smart enough" or "I'm not very good at that" or "someone else can do it better" or "I couldn't possibly do that."

Whenever there's an opportunity to serve the church at any level, from the Pastoral Charge to the Presbytery, Conference or General Council, these phrases are often repeated (or something similar).

When Alberta Northwest Conference met in Lethbridge a few years ago, about 25 members of a local church were asked to be stewards at the meeting. Their task was to attend to the needs of delegates throughout the course of the meeting. They were assigned a table group, wore bright blue t-shirts and good walking shoes, and kept everyone supplied with water, coffee, cookies and muffins, while passing out papers and collecting assorted items as needed.

They worked long hours while the delegates worshipped, debated at microphones, made decisions, and socialized. When they weren't needed, they gathered at one end of the arena to rest and chat.

A colleague mentioned that they happened to be close to this group while many of them were at rest and overheard one of them remark to a friend, "You know, these people are just like the people at our church. Some are nice and kind, others are grumpy no matter what you do for them. Some are grateful for all you do, others just ignore you. I never realized that Conference was made up of ordinary people like us! I always thought they were something special!"

Well, our faith communities ARE made up of ordinary people who are also something special, who are diverse and unique and who have some amazing talents and gifts that they willingly share. The work of the church happens when we have the courage to share our gifts from God in spite of, or in celebration of our ordinariness.

On a Sunday morning in Calgary, a few weeks back, during the Celebration of Ministry Worship Service, the meeting of Alberta Northwest Conference gathered to do what Conference has the power to do: to ordain, commission, recognize and admit from other denominations, people for ministry in the United Church of Canada. This year there were three candidates: one for ordination and two admitted from another denomination. They made their way through the United Church process to be honoured and recognized at that service and in-so-doing they have become Ministry Personnel within our wider church.

 I wonder if any of them felt like hiding in the baggage as their name was called?

What is certain is that they would have felt that blend of fear and grace that always accompanies such a ceremony. They have been encouraged by the people of the United Church to follow their particular call of God to ministry – to let their light shine in the words of the gospel.

But they're also embarking on a new path in their journey of faith – and that can be scary. They have worked long and hard to get to this place. They are ordinary people who are called to do something special and from time to time others may identify them as doing just that. But they are also no different than anyone else and in that reality is the assurance that God calls in various ways the people that carry out God's ministry.

This week Jane graduated from the 3 year residential component of the National Lay Pastoral Minister in Training Program…the Moderator presided and spoke and presented gifts to those who had completed their 3 yearly visits to an intensive working environment in Montreal at United Theological College of McGill University.

We can all be proud of the work that she has done to this point in her journey…you may want to tell her how pleased you are for her when you gather in Memorial Hall today to enjoy some cake and liquid refreshment.

Her work is not over, however, as Academic graduation is only one part of being designated a worker in the church in a particular area. For Jane, that "recognition" will come at a meeting of conference…either a regional meeting or the whole meeting of conference which takes place at the end of the month of May each year. The church always makes a distinction between academics and conferring upon a person a designated authority to carry out the duties of a specific ministry.

In the church it is important for us to realize that we don't have to be at the centre of the celebration of ministry service to feel that we are following God's call. In the work of our own churches, in the work of Presbytery and Conference and General Council, there are countless folks who give tirelessly to serve God with their gifts and talents.

Whenever anyone has bravely volunteered to "let their light shine," they also have to deal with the feelings of fear and grace…they are some of the feelings that help us live balanced lives.

Within our church, there are a wide variety of opportunities to celebrate our gifts and talents. Thank goodness we have a wide variety of courageous people ready to answer that call from God. There will always be those "worthless fellows" who despise anyone else who is chosen. But there will also always be many, many folks who are grateful and celebrate the gifts and talents of those brave individuals who, amid the fear and grace, present themselves for service.  

Fortunately, it's not our job to call people into service – we only issue the invitation. The task of call belongs to God. Our task is to ask another, "could God be calling you?" and to ask ourselves "how is God calling me?"  

May we be among the group who celebrates, who supports, and who helps those around us serve the church with their gifts and talents. And perhaps that experience will remain with us and powerfully affect our living and loving for years to come as only life emanating from the spirit of God can. Amen.

"Contemporary Reflections on John Chapter 3"

By Rev. James Farrell

An Aggadah looking at Mark 5:21 ff

By Rev. James Farrell

Aggadah is a tradition of story telling that …^{continued at x1}

[(Aramaic אגדה: tales, lore; pl. Aggadot ) refers to the homiletic and non-legalistic exegetical texts in classical rabbinic literature - particularly as recorded in the Talmud and Midrash. Other terms for this body of teachings are Aggadata (אגדתא) lit.“the” aggada, and the Hebrew Haggadah (הגדה; pl. Haggadot).]

^x1…is presented as folklore and historical anecdotes most often used as moral exhortations, a part of story culture thousands of years old yet fresh and popular today as we see in the works of Stuart McLean and his Vinyl Café and others like Garrison Keeler & Robert Fulghum and others who put their own spin on this kind of literature.

Today I want to share with you an Aggadah written by The Rev. Neil Parker, a military chaplain with the Canadian Forces. It stretches me to share it, as I’m sure it did him to write it and I hope it will you to hear it.

I Begin: Once again, the bitter disappointment washed over her as she saw the familiar stains on the bed sheets. Her morning ritual; wake with the first light and then lie, unmoving in her bed, praying that this morning, she would find the sheets miraculously clean.

Barely breathing, softly praying, until there was enough light through the window to check the sheets and her nightgown. Yet every morning it was the same thing. There was always the mark of dried blood, sometimes a flow and sometimes merely spotting. But always there, always a reminder that nothing had changed, nothing would change, and she had not changed.

She sighed as she rose and bundled up clothes to hurriedly wash at the well before too many gathered there. She could hardly bear to see their faces and hear their voices.

It was not that they were unkind. Far from it. They were, if anything, too kind. Pitying the poor woman who would not stop bleeding. The one who was never free of the uncleanness that was part of every woman's life cycle.

The women knew each other's cycle, knew their mothers' and sisters' cycles, knew of hers. It was part of life, and it could be celebrated - the first flow marked the coming of age of a young girl and set her apart as a woman, with the creative power that meant that she could give birth.

Her monthly flow, regular as the moon, was a constant reminder of that power, a power so great that it could draw power from others, making them unclean if they so much as touched these sheets under her arm, or touched her bed or her seat at the table. It was the power of Eve, and though the young women chafed at the cramping and the moods and the confinement following each flow, it took little to remind a girl that this was a blessing and a reminder of who she was and was meant to be.

They did not like to see her and be filled with pity for her. Not only childless and practically unmarriageable, but already in her middle 20s with no hope of ever having a family. Twelve years she had endured this betrayal of her body against her.

Periodically, especially at the beginning, she had gone through a few days without any bleeding. But never for long, and never for the required seven days that had to elapse before she could be declared clean again. She had not been clean since she was 12. Half a lifetime ago.

If she rushed to the well, she would not have to endure those other faces, the ones at home. Her mother, always anxious for her daughter, had finally stopped asking her quiet question in the morning, “Has it stopped?” She had given up, worn down by the inevitable disappointment.

Her father (awkwardly of course when dealing with “women's problems”) had set himself to solve the problem of her unmarried status. All it would take would be a man who was unconcerned with the problem of living with a wife who would always make him unclean, unable to participate in sacrifice or to associate with any others who were concerned about their purity.

The best solution, her father decided, was to find a husband who could never be considered pure himself, someone like a tax-collector, perhaps, or a swineherd.

Maybe a shepherd, he suggested one night to his daughter, “someone who spends his time away from others, living rough in the wild with his animals, someone who is usually soiled with the birthing of lambs or the skinning and slaughtering of sheep for the market.”

The horrified look in her eyes must have been answer enough, as he never spoke of it again, only muttering once or twice, “David was a shepherd, nothing wrong with that.  And Moses ...”

And yet, sometimes she thought to herself, that might not be so bad. It would be, at least, normal. If she were able to marry and have a family like every other woman in town seemed to have ... if she could be clean and whole, and could talk with other women without having to endure their looks of worry and concern.

She could rise in the morning and bake or mend clothes or care for children, and not have to run to get water to clean and clean unceasingly. But in all likelihood, this body of hers had betrayed her by making her unable to have the children she longed for. The blood would not stay in her long enough to make a bed for the seed that could become a child. It was hopeless.

For years she had gone to doctors. It seemed as if she did nothing else. There was always some glimmer of hope, as she explained her problem to a new doctor. It seemed such a simple thing, really. All women bleed. It's just that their flow stops from time to time, and mine doesn't. Surely there is something I can do, something I can take, that will take this small difficulty of timing and make me normal, once and for all.

Despite the continual disappointments, she was excited by each new doctor who expressed confidence that he would be able to find a cure. She was addicted to that look on each doctor's face, the look of certainty and the calm assurance.

Yet time and again she had to endure seeing those faces shift from assurance to confusion, and then to frustration and sometimes anger ... anger at her for presenting such an obstinate affliction, frustrated with themselves for not being able to find a simple cure, confusion at the realization that, perhaps, their confidence in their art and their skill had been misplaced.

It was never a happy outcome, since she was always made to feel the cause of the problem. She felt ashamed and paid the fees they demanded, until she had barely enough to live on. Yet she remained unhealed.

These were the thoughts running through her head as she approached the well in the middle of the town square. Fortunately it was not yet crowded, although at any early hour it was unthinkable to be alone at the village well. She knew the women there - she knew their glances when they saw her familiar load, and felt their eyes as she drew water and moved off a distance.

She stood apart, close enough to listen at the edge of the conversation, but not quite close enough to easily speak. So she listened to the early morning chatter of the women, only half paying attention, until the word “healer” caught her attention.

They were speaking of an itinerant preacher from Nazareth who not only spoke with power but had the power of healing. A rabbi, he was, and a prophet ... not one of these worthless physicians with their imported ointments and strange foods, but a man who knew first the law of God.

It wouldn't hurt to at least ask for a healing, she thought to herself. I have nothing to lose.

It also appeared that she would have no time to lose. From the women's conversation, it appeared that this Jesus had arrived only yesterday and was already being called away to a sickbed. If she hesitated, there may not be a second chance.

Was there time to race home and leave these sheets, and then race back to find him? Possibly not. It must be done quickly. Gathering her clothes under her arm, she headed in to the center of town, searching for the stranger. At first she had no idea of where to go, but gradually she realized that the crowds in town were not milling about in all directions but were steadily heading towards a single location.

She followed the crowd, trying as hard as she could not to touch anybody on either side. She managed for a while, but as the crowd thickened, it was harder and harder to do so, and before she knew it she was squeezed in between two men, who glared at her before stepping back to let her pass. She was contaminating innocent strangers in this fruitless and selfish quest. Yet she could not stop, no matter what.

As she took a deep breath and surged forward, she heard snatches of conversation around her. The crowd was buzzing with the excitement of this teacher's arrival, and the possibilities of being present when something really exciting was to happen. Jesus, apparently, was on his way to the sickbed of the little daughter of Jairus, one of the synagogue rulers.

She began to hesitate, as she thought things through. Jesus was on the way to heal a little girl, and the little girl of an important man in town. Why did she think he would have time for her and her spotted sheets? Jarius’ daughter was dying. She was not.

She slowed to a walk, and instead of pushing through crowds let them drift around her, like a river splitting at a rock. She felt silly, and selfish. Imagine, running through the streets for the chance to throw away some more money, money she didn't have, on yet another doctor. He wouldn't have time for her. Even if he did, he couldn't touch her or examine her, because it would make him, a rabbi, unclean and powerless. Then he could never heal that little girl.

No, some healing should wait.

She stood there for a few minutes, collecting her thoughts. She could see him now, approaching the intersection where she stood. He would pass by in a few moments. If only she could ask him for healing now! If only his shadow as it passed by might heal her. Then the healing power would not have to choose between a little girl dying at 12 years old and a girl whose life had been dead for 12 long years.

Twelve-years-old in the balance with 12 years' bondage. Suddenly, she could take it no more. This would be her last chance. “Perhaps if I just touch the hem of his garment,” she thought. “Even if it means choosing between her and me.”

With a sob, she pushed her way through the crowd, and reached out. And touched.

The Rev. Neil Parker is a military chaplain with the Canadian Forces in Ottawa, studying in the field of ethics. He is a frequent contributor to Word and Witness.

“What Kind of King?”

By Rev. James Farrell

I like James Taylor’s writing, the past editor of the United Church Observer, not the subject of Carly Simon’s song, “You're So Vain”.

You’ve heard me say that before and I’m sure I will say it again. In his online column recently he wrote about his tricycle…not what I expected to find, but there it was. He wrote of how he loved it and enjoyed it and eventually how he had to move on from it.

After some conversation about those early years, he began to comment about the transition to a larger bike. He wrote: “Then one day, I got a two-wheeler of my own. And I left the old blue tricycle behind.

We all understand that process at the childhood level. You leave the old teddy bear, so that you can lace on skates for hockey. You give up the girl next door for the blonde bombshell, and you give up the bombshell for the girl who becomes your wife. Or for the guy who becomes your husband.

You give up roving for fidelity.

It’s part of growing up. We call it maturity.

So why do we have so much difficulty applying the same lesson to spiritual growth?

All too often, we feel as if we’re betraying the truth if we give up ideas taught to us when we were children. I don’t mean to belittle children, but children aren’t adults. They can’t ride adult bicycles yet, and they can’t handle adult understandings of faith yet. So we teach them a simplified version. Hopefully, these simplified versions won’t prevent them from absorbing a bigger and broader perception of God.”

In fact, that is one of the reasons we need to keep at our study and our sharing with our growing children—so they don’t get stuck.

“Adults have never -- from the beginning of time -- told their children everything they know. About Santa Claus or the tooth fairy. About sex, work, or money.

So why should we assume that what we we're told about God, way back in Sunday School, was the ultimate truth? It was a beginning, a launching pad, a stepping stone. To move ahead means leaving that stepping stone behind.

He continues to say, “A friend described some of the crises in her family. “I don’t have any faith any more,” she said, sounding almost guilty about it. He writes, “I must have looked skeptical. She doesn’t act like a woman floundering about trying to find meaning and purpose in her life.

She explained: “I can’t—no, I won’t—believe in a God who does these things to us.”

Good for her. The God she doesn’t believe in is the beginner God she was taught about in her childhood. She’s finally leaving her tricycle behind.”

I appreciated that bit because it speaks to me, too.

When I became a Christian …when I consciously chose to engage Jesus as influential in my life, my thoughts, my actions…it was back in the late 70’s and I was drawn inexorably into a period that brought me to awareness of Jesus’ Jewish roots…I had traveled in Europe, remember this was about 30 years after Israel had become a nation …I thought I understood good and evil…it was certainly evil what had happened to the Jews in Europe not long before my life began and it was good that they finally had a homeland and the commitment of most of the world that such atrocities should never happen to them again…and this commitment was good.

Just one year into working on my Bachelor of Theology degree, Jane and I traveled with the college president to Israel and toured the Holy Land and my fond feelings for Israel were increased. I had, in studying Hebrew Scriptures, courses that taught me about Israel’s history and David’s place in it and I was as strong a supporter of Israel as anyone.

That was also early in my infancy as a committed Christian albeit a Christian on an educational pilgrimage…and this connection with Israel caused me to support the work of the Knesset all the more. The Knesset is modern Israel’s ruling body and these are the contemporary people entrusted with steering the vessel that had really set sail three thousand years ago under King David and under the banner of “the people of God”.

My eschatological teaching—the study of end times—had taught me that Israel would again play a major role in the economy of God and that Christians aught to support Israel for everything that has come to us from Jewish experience, not the least of which was Jesus, and our common links to this history of God’s revelation to the world past, present, and future connecting us in a special and undeniable way.

That doesn’t mean that I have always agreed with Israel’s choices…just mostly!

I understood that if modern Israel retaliated for an offense with what seemed to me to be more than a measured response…or even excessive response…I had to remember that it was Israel’s way…a way to insure their survival…being weak in history only ever brought them to the place of near destruction—a place they were committed never to be again.

Difficult as it was for me, I generally accepted these responses as the way things needed to be.

Fast forward to today and the hot water that the United Church is in with comments and choices it has made in regard to current Israeli practices and again, my theology, my world-view, and my own often blind allegiance to the direction of Israel’s Knesset finds itself being challenged big-time.

It is summer and I wanted to be able to keep summer messages “light” but the comments I have heard from some of you, compel me to head down this uncomfortable road …it’s a good journey for us, though not light, and it’s a good journey for me too.

So I try to offer a bit of perspective. Palestinian Muslims have been the vast majority in Palestine for over 1,000 years, living with Christian and Jewish minorities. In 1948 Israel declared itself a state and in 1949, claimed the territory up to the United Nation’s armistice or “green” line which gave it 78% of historic Palestine. Following the Six Day War in 1967, while many of us were celebrating Expo 67, Israel occupied the remaining Palestinian territory—the West Bank, East Jerusalem and Gaza.

The Fourth Geneva Convention, which Israel signed, protects the human and property rights of civilians under occupation and forbids an occupying force from annexing land or from transferring it's citizens. The Govt. of Israel has refused to respect this international law as a basis for peace.

Since 2002, the Govt. of Israel has unilaterally initiated it “disengagement plan”. The completion of the Wall and the taking of 46% of the West Bank (an area far greater than Gaza), this action will leave Palestinians on small, isolated reservations with few resources. As a result of the violation of their rights, including the theft and destruction of their property, Palestinians are:

    - at grave risk from a lack of access to adequate food, water and medical care

    -    subjected to severe mobility restrictions and endless humiliation at ever-changing check points that block access to medical care, education, and employment,

    -    experiencing massive psychological trauma as a result of the perpetual violence from an hostile military force; and

    -    hindered administratively by the intentional destruction of their civil records.

So, our fellow United Church folks in Toronto conference have asked, “What are Canada’s obligations in this situation?” 

Despite official Canadian Government policy that affirms the right of the State of Israel to exist, and that opposes Israel’s Wall or its “Security Barrier” into Palestinian territory, the Canadian Government position also opposes the unilateral annexation of East Jerusalem, and opposes the transfer of Israeli citizens into the West Bank and calls for Israel to live up to the requirements of international and humanitarian law, and yet, Canada has not supported recent United Nations’ motions to condemn Israel for violations of human rights and international law or call for an immediate end to the occupation.

Quoting from a brochure printed by the Toronto Conference of the Untied Church of Canada, “The United Church of Canada has a distinguished history of pursuing justice through morally responsible, educational economic campaigns. Boycott and divestment have been used successfully for justice in South Africa, with Nestlé's infant formula, and to end the unjust treatment of California grape labor.

At its May, 2003 AGM, The Toronto Conference of the United Church of Canada, with the support of both Israeli and Palestinian peace organizations, called for a boycott and divestment campaign to work for a just and lasting peace that:

    -    affirms the right of both Israelis and Palestinians to live in peace and security within internationally-recognized borders and

    -    calls for an end to the Israeli occupation of Palestinian territories and a withdrawal of all Israeli settlements from the West Bank, Gaza, and East Jerusalem.

There are hawks and doves, of course on both sides of the debate, and the hawks often have more money to promote their view so careful reading and digesting is required for us to be clear of the goings on in that important and tiny part of the world. We need to listen to many voices to be informed.

More than any other figure, King David symbolizes ancient Israel.

Second Samuel reminds us that David began to feel like a king when the other kings of the region began to honor him and pay homage to him.

Quoting from 2 Samuel 5:11-12, “King Hiram of Tyre sent messengers to David, along with cedar trees and carpenters and masons who built David a house. David then perceived that the LORD had established him king over Israel”.

The people had named him king. God had named him king. But when he felt that surge of power from the honor and adulation of other kings, that's when he felt like a real king.

Power ... isn't that what makes a king a king? Not the trust of the people. Power...

The promise of God when David was a boy was nice; the voice of the people asking him to be king was wonderful; the oil of anointing smelled sweet, but when the neighboring king came to build him a palace of cedar, then he felt like a king...a king like all the other kings.

The storyteller goes on to say that no sooner did David start feeling like a real king than he began behaving like all the other kings: “In Jerusalem, after he came from Hebron, David took more concubines and wives.”  He took women to be his, uh, “perfumers and cooks and bakers,” and anything else a king might like. David acts like a real king.  Real kings have enormous harems in cedar palaces.

Funny that the storyteller should even mention the cedar.  That's not the sort of detail we hear in these stories - unless, of course, the detail is significant.

Look through the history of the kings. Cedar?

Hiram of Tyre came a second time to Jerusalem, to visit David's son Solomon. In exchange for a gift of cedar, Solomon began a forced conscription of laborers, sending them off to Lebanon to work for Hiram.

Does cedar make you a king? 

In the Hebrew scriptures, "cedar" is a code word for a king closed in on himself and his own desires. From the cedar-paneled walls of the palace he cannot see out, cannot recognize human need and misery, and certainly he does not want to invite the common folk in, for they might soil or stain the lovely cedar paneling. The palace is for royalty alone.

In this episode David arrives at a crisis moment in his story. He has been crowned King of Judah and Israel, king of all the tribes, and stands poised between two alternative visions of kingly rule, between two alternative visions of leadership, between two alternative visions of government. 

Will David be the shepherd of Israel or will David be content to make himself at home in a palace of cedar? There are rulers who can live in palaces of cedar and never forget what they are there for.  There are rulers who, even from a palace, can see the homeless and hear the cries of the hungry and feel the pain of the wounded and know the lost ness of the lonely. And there are rulers who insulate themselves with cedar against the storms of human need.

At this point in 2^nd Samuel what kind of king David will be remains to be seen.

From our reading we know of David, 40 years a man of God…yet his mistakes and deviations from the heart of God are well documented…in those chronicles are the stories of other voices, prophetic voices coming before him to help him find the strength to rule in Israel as God had intended him to.

The symbol of David continues in the nation state of modern Israel and there are still prophetic voices clamoring to be heard that would empower the modern David to be who God would have David be…a Just ruler for all people. The shouts of these prophets are sometimes not heard through the Cedar clad walls of the Israel Knesset so, maybe, that voice can be heard in the work of the World Council of Churches and the Toronto Conference of the United Church of Canada as people of faith invite a modern David to be the kind of king God called him to be. Amen

(material on “cedar” from Patrick Willson, Presbyterian Church USA, Williamsburg, VA.)

The Message: “From the Window”

By Rev. James Farrell

It is Tour de France time again. Back in February, cycling mega star Lance Armstrong and Grammy Award-winning singer Sheryl Crow issued a statement announcing the end of their engagement. “After much thought we have made the very tough decision to split up. We both have a deep love and respect for each other and we ask that everyone respect our privacy during this very difficult time.”

It is difficult for most of us to grasp the challenges of living constantly in the public eye.

You don't have to agree with or condone the lifestyle of celebrities to empathize with the pressure of constant scrutiny in addition to the demands for autographs, appearances, photographs, and endorsements. We can emotionally dismiss their challenges, quipping, "It comes with the territory." Yet, I wonder if most who find themselves in the spotlight of the paparazzi ever really anticipated the magnitude of the intrusion.

Michal, the daughter of King Saul and the wife of King David, lived her entire life in a glass house. She grew up in the house of power and her marriage retained the status. The narrative of Second Samuel 6 reveals the contrast between Michal's concern for appearances and David's lack thereof. In the midst of their story ‘we discover’ a call to unbridled worship.

By contrast, David grew up on the hillsides of Palestine. He was raised far from the public eye, tending Jesse's flocks and herds. His entrance into the feverish world of fame came as an errand boy serving his older brothers. The older brothers were serving in a military campaign of King Saul, battling the Philistines. In an example of representative warfare, the confident young defender of sheep from wild animals, slew the intimidating Goliath.

His life was never the same after that. Immediately his fame spread. His public status grew exponentially with each succeeding conquest. He became a personal aide to the king and married into the King's family.  He became the best friend of Jonathan, the king's son and apparent heir to the throne.  His rising popularity gave rise to jealousy in the heart of the king, and their relationship deteriorated even as his relationships with the king's family deepened.

In the end, David became king following the death of Saul and Jonathan. Scripture says, it was God's will, revealed long before by the prophetic vision and anointing by Nathan. It was also politically concretized through marriage into the bloodline of Saul.

David, the second King of Israel, was a complex individual. David had unrivaled leadership skills. He was a fearless warrior, a brilliant military strategist and his winsome personality fostered deep loyalty. Coupled with his leadership abilities, David possessed musical and poetic gifts. He played the harp with distinction and his songs of faith were embraced by the community of faith and incorporated into public worship.

David was a man of passion and his passion seeped out of his pores, colored all his activities and was evident in all of his complexities.

His passion unnerved his wife Michal.  In this reading, David's heart for God and natural expression of worship is on display. After years of struggle, exile, scavenging and a myriad of battles, he ascended to the pinnacle of Hebrew life. He was the king, giving all of Israel direction and providing for her national defense.

Through all of the challenges that could have calloused his heart to worshipful expression, the heart of praise born on the quiet hillsides and green pastures of solitary expression only grew. He longed to build a house for the God who had sustained him through every valley and shadow of death.

The Ark of the Covenant, the symbol of divine presence, rested in a tent while the king rested in splendor. For Saul, the Ark had been employed as a weapon for battle. David viewed the Ark as the throne of God here on earth. The disparity between God's residence and the residence of the king deeply concerned him. In David's heart, the Ark of the Covenant belonged in Jerusalem, the seat of power in Israel and he longed for that presence to reside where he and the Hebrew nation could never lose sight of it.

The biblical narrative describes a magnificent scene as the Ark is brought home. David summons the aid of 30,000 chosen men for the task of transporting the Ark. David became the lead worshiper as the company made its way from the house of Abinadab toward Jerusalem.  

It was a massive celebration of singing and accompaniment utilizing a host of instruments. It also portrays the passion of the king and the whole house of Israel as they rejoiced with all of their might.

The energy and vitality of Israel's worship that day does not dictate the tempo of worship in our day. However, the example of wholehearted worship is compelling. The King summoned the aid of a multitude to experience the joy of the moment. The singer/poet poured out his heart as he endeavored to put God in God's rightful place of prominence in their lives.

The passage highlights the truth that corporate praise is a contagious energy. David's worship spurs our own. It calls us from across the millennia to make certain that God’s place is one of prominence in our hearts. Only then can we find a proper perspective for the balance of daily living.

Interestingly, the journey took place in two parts. The first leg, was the trip from the House of Abinadab to the House of Obed Edom. The second leg, covers the transport from Obed Edom to Jerusalem. There is a time span of several months between each leg. This interruption was caused by a lack of proper preparation for worship. God had given specific instructions for the transport of the Ark. It was to be borne on the shoulders of the Levitical priesthood (Exodus 25). David chose to construct a wheeled cart instead. In the course of transport the oxen stumbled and Uzzah, one of Abinadab's sons and one of the Ark's handlers, reached his hand out to steady the Ark and Uzzah was struck dead for his irreverent treatment of the Ark of God. This was not some common load of grain; this was the symbol of God's presence. The incident speaks to us concerning the necessity for proper preparation for true worship.

Our worship ought to exemplify a sense of reverence and awe for the otherness of God while not forgetting God’s closeness. Worship prep is always a dance that seeks to uphold a flow of reflection that is not void of reverence yet fresh enough to express our delight in the freshness of God.

David wanted things right for God and so he parked the Ark at the home of Obed Edom and three months passed as he sorted through the experience of his guilt and fear. There would not be a repeat of the Uzzah tragedy.  

The Ark would be “carried” into Jerusalem as God had instructed. Again the depiction of a great host of worshipers gathering to celebrate the joy of the occasion. With sacrifices every six paces, no one could doubt David’s fervor before God and no one would ever forget the sight of what they witnessed.

With shouts and accompanying trumpets, David led the procession of praise adorned only in a linen ephod (the garment of a priest) and did so dancing before the Lord with all of his might (6:14-15).  Perhaps David's example speaks to us of our nakedness before God. Perhaps it is a call for a lack of pretense in worship, a stripping of the trappings of external mechanical action, and a call to genuine encounter. You can’t ponder these things and evaluate David’s love of God without appreciating the lasting moniker, “a man after God’s own heart.” 

There is another truth that emerges as we walk alongside the procession. At the conclusion of the journey, when the Ark of God is safely in its new residence, David turns to the people of God and blesses them. From the king's storehouse, David gifted each worshiper with a loaf of bread, a cake of dates and a cake of raisins. His act proclaims that true worship translates into ministry and a heart of generous activity.

For in the act of true worship we recognize with the Psalmist, “The earth is the Lord's, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it; my neighbor is in the heart of God and when I encounter God in spirit and in truth I cannot view her otherwise. I am compelled to share every good thing God has provided.” 

Unfortunately, some who count themselves among God's people never get beyond religious activity to real connectivity with God. There is a tendency to reduce spirituality to a rote exercise of religious action. Worship attendance, Bible study participation, even acts of ministry can be performed quite easily without an engaged heart and generosity of spirit is lost. Michal, David’s wife, chose that day to watch the worship of others from a distant window (6:16). She had become so concerned with the opinions of others that she refused participation in the celebration of joy. Instead, she stood judging the actions of others, her husband's in particular.

Have you ever met a Michal? Have you ever been one?

On a day when life covenant partners could have sat down together to reminisce and relive a joint experience of praise, Michal chose instead to condemn her husband for defiling himself in the public eye.

Interestingly, it is not the king's advisors or other politically powerful people about whom Michal expresses concern. Michal condemns David for acting as a commoner in front of her servant girls. At the heart, Michal is consumed with public perception and more concerned with the opinion of these than the approval of God. 

If we continue reading beyond the lection, we discover David's response. David refuses to allow his public life to invade or change his private worship. He explains that his worship was intended for God and not for the scrutiny of others. Concern for his own dignity has no place, no quarter when offering praise to God.

To some extent we all live life in the public eye. Our struggle is how we allow that to impact our expression of worship. Amen.

This message has borrowed much from the work of Lonny Poe who is the pastor of Sunset Canyon Baptist Church located in the Hill Country of Central Texas, just outside of Austin.  Lonny is married to Deanne and they have four children.

Sabbath Rest

By Jane Clarke

It has been interesting these past weeks walking with King David.  We have heard many stories of him beginning with his childhood when he used his sling shot on Goliath.  We have walked with him while he has been king.  Last week we heard about how he was bringing the ark to rest in the city of David and how he was dancing and celebrating bringing God to live in his city.  Today we are hearing about David resting and thinking.  He was thinking about building a house of cedar for God to live in.

David felt that if he lived in such a house then surely God ought to as well.

Where do we say that God lives?   What kinds of places have we built for God? 

We come to church to join as a community and search for who God is and where God is.  And how we learn to live with God and each other.

If I asked each of you where God is and where God lives what would you answer?  I would like you to think of that and answer that for yourselves.

Do we have God in a box?  Does your God live in the sky? in heaven? In this building?  In your heart?

If we are believers and followers of Jesus then he has taught us that God is wherever we meet together, wherever we are even if we are alone.  If we believe that we are born in the image of God what does that mean?  For me it means that my soul or my spirit is God’s image.  The divine within God is present always.

When we look at the Gospel and why people followed Jesus and wanted him to touch them I ask the question what is it about Jesus that people saw?  Why did they want to be near him?  My answer to that is that the divine within him was so much a part of him that people could see God.  They could see the love and the compassion that is God.

How do we strive to become the face of God for others to see? 

While I was in Montreal this year we were talking about theology and who Jesus is for us and how do we see the divine in him.  There was a comment made “to be fully human is to be fully divine”.  That made a lot of sense to me.  To be fully human, to know exactly who we are, to accept ourselves for who we are and to love ourselves is to be fully human.  I believe that when we achieve that we then become so attuned to ourselves that we allow the divine within to show us how to love God with our whole being.

That is who Jesus is to me.  A human that knew exactly who he was and what he was to do for other and was so full of love for himself that he could completely love others.   People saw that in him and wanted to be near him, to touch him to be healed by him.

The Gospel reading also talks about resting and thinking.  Jesus and the disciples were wondering how they were going to be able to rest.  They were tired they had been working overtime with their ministries.  Everyone wanted to be healed everyone wanted to talk to them.  Jesus and the disciples were becoming so recognizable that they were never left alone.

Jesus recognized the fact that they needed to rest in order to be affective in their ministries.  Jesus knew they all needed to rest. For to be fully human is also to know when we have to look after ourselves.  If we don’t take time for ourselves and the bodies that we have been given how then can we continue the work of God?

We all need rest.  How often do we ask someone how they are and the reply is “too busy”.  Is that caring for ourselves?  To what end are we serving God and what good do we do for God if we don’t rest and renew ourselves?

Our lives today seem so hectic.  There are so many activities we are involved in.  There are so many demands made on our lives.  When do we take time for rest?  When do we take time for our Sabbath rest?  By Sabbath rest I don’t mean just on Sunday.  We can take our rest when we are able.  Take time to be with God to be with the spirit within us.  For sure our time  on Sunday mornings is special and we worship together in community but if we don’t take time to be with God any other time it would seem to me that we have God in a box like David did. 

How do we take our Sabbath rest?  When do we take it?  I work every Sunday so Sunday is not my Sabbath rest time.  Does it have to be a whole day?  Could it be a portion of a day?  How often do we just sit and rest and allow our bodies and our spirits to rest together?  Do we make it a priority in our lives? 

There is a quote from Rabbi Abraham Heschel that says, Sabbath is not a day or date, but an atmosphere.  Sabbath is to enter the space and time of the holy and to be renewed there.  I love that, “Sabbath is an atmosphere”.

I like that because I then don’t have to choose a day and decide that I will force myself to make it my Sabbath.  I can choose a time and space and enter into an atmosphere.  That may be a portion of every day that I take for meditation.  Maybe I sleep in because my body is tired.  Any number of ways I can take to renew and revitalize myself.

I think it is fabulous that we don’t have church meetings during the summer.  We take that time to rest and enjoy our vacation times.  Maybe some decide that some weekends during the summer are family times and we go camping for the weekend.  Maybe for others Sunday’s are the only time the whole family has a day off and they go for a picnic.  I believe that is an atmosphere of Sabbath.

Any time we enjoy our families or nature or any of God’s creation it is Sabbath rest.  We create the atmosphere for being in God’s presence.

We do need to meet in community to learn and to join together with others so corporately we can uphold each other.  Jesus did that for the disciples, he said “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.”  We join together to take care of one another.  We say “take time to look after yourselves” 

We join together to teach our young people in Sunday School.  That is why we have 3 teachers per class so we don’t burn them out.  That is why we need so many volunteers to help with the work of the church so a few people don’t get too tired.  That is why we have a term for how long people stay on the Board of Elders.  We in the church value all of our disciples and encourage a time of rest.

We all need to take a vacation from our jobs whatever they may be.  We need to get away from the busyness of life so that when we do meet here together we feel refreshed and ready to look after one another. 

We all need Sabbath rest.  We do need a place as community to come together for our Sabbath we don’t need that to be ornate or to use all our resources.  We need some resources for our outreach for those who come to us who are in need in this community and beyond.

When we allow ourselves to take time to rest.  Time to allow our own bodies to heal and become strong we can then be God to those who are in need of healing.

We are the body of Christ on this earth and have been commissioned to carry on his ministry. 

Frederick Buechner has a wonderful description of a certain class that he held one winter day. A beautiful sunset was taking place as he entered the classroom and he had the impulse to turn the classroom lights off.  He said that he was not sure that he ever had a happier impulse.  The room faced west so as soon as it went dark, everything disappeared except what he and his students could see through the windows, and there it was- the entire sky on fire by then, as he says "like the end of the world or the beginning of the world".  He goes on to say:

“For over twenty minutes nobody spoke a word. Nobody did anything. We just sat there in the near-dark and watched one day of our lives come to an end, and it is no immodesty to say that it was a great class because my only contribution was to snap off the lights and then hold my tongue. And I am not being sentimental about sunsets when I say that it was a great class because in a way the sunset was the least of it. What was great was the unbusy-ness of it. It was taking unlabeled, unallotted time just to look with maybe more than our eyes at what was wonderfully there to be looked at without any obligation to think any constructive thoughts about it or turn it to any useful purpose later.” 

So then in the busyness of our lives I encourage us all to take time to watch the sunsets, to listen to our selves, to rest and rejuvenate so that when we join together here in this place we can continue our ministry.  The ministry that Jesus encouraged us to continue for him. 

Let us take care of one other and ourselves that the work can continue.  We are the hands and feet of God here on this earth and the crowds will always be waiting for us just as they were for the disciples in our reading from Mark.  Amen

“How much is Enough”

By Jane Clarke

Last week I talked about Sabbath rest and how important that is for us.  We need that rest so we can refresh ourselves.  We need that so that we can take time to listen to the divine within and carry on God’s work here on earth.

Today we are hearing about doing that work.  Today we are being called back into action after our rest. To continue being the disciples Jesus called us to be as his followers.

We are being called into action to share.  We are being called to share so there will be enough for everyone.  Many read this story and think wow what a miracle Jesus performed to have only 5 loaves and 2 fish to feed more than 5,000 people!  So then this story is about just how great Jesus is and what a magician he is.  See what a great guy he is!  That is wonderful but what does that mean for us?  I doubt Jesus wanted to be recorded as a miracle worker.  He had so much more to teach us than that.

Yes Jesus is wonderful.  Yes, this is a miracle for sure but what is the miracle? I believe the miracle to be that a young boy is sharing all that he has to help feed others.  I believe that is what Jesus is telling us.

These 5,000 people had been following Jesus and walking with him.  Don’t you think many would have packed some provisions to bring along?  I doubt there was a MacDonald’s or a Burger King close by to get something to eat. 

By this young boy sharing what he had encouraged others to share what they had with those who may not have brought food with them.  The miracle is that of sharing the food.  The miracle is that people were willing to give what they had and when it was all shared there was still much left.

I have said this before about this passage … I think it is the first recorded pot luck.  When ever I have brought food to a pot luck I always wonder if I have enough made.  I have never been to a pot luck when there wasn’t enough to eat.  I often hear people say it’s like feeding the 5,000 there is always some left over.

Crowds.  The crowds keep following him, we hear.  A large crowd is coming towards Jesus and the disciples and Jesus asks Philip, “Where are we going to buy bread for these people to eat?”  It’s a panicky moment.

This is a question every congregation asks – “How do we assemble the resources to attend to all the hungers of the world?”  Poverty, spiritual bankruptcy, people crying out for justice.  The image of an approaching crowd with an insistent need that will not be easily met.

How does Jesus equip us to respond?  With confidence in Jesus, we reach out knowing that we can meet the need, not only with enough, but with resources left over which we carefully shepherd for another day.

These are questions we ask often.  What can I do?  How can I make a difference?  We as a church participate in the Canadian Food Grain Bank.  Farmers grow crops which are given to CIDA, matched 3 or 4 to one by the government and distributed in areas of need around the world.  The multiplying of the loaves and fishes in our day.

I receive a weekly newsletter by email called Rumours.  It’s written by Ralph Milton, who has written a number of excellent books.  Each week, he takes the lectionary readings and comments on them.  This week he titled his comments “What if”. 

I believe I have used this before but it is worth hearing again.

What if. . .

The miracle