"Both/And" (sermon)

Two Rivers Pastoral Charge
Sunday May 26, 2024 – Trinity Sunday
Scripture: Isaiah 6:1-8


When was the last time you experienced awe?  Where were you?  What were you doing in that moment when awe or reverence made you take a step back, either literally or metaphorically, and need to catch your breath?  How did it feel?  How did you respond? Does awe give you goosebumps or run a chill up your spine?  Does awe cause you to pause and stay in that moment, or does it overwhelm you so you have to turn away.  Does it strike you silent, or does it make you sing out?

 

For me, I call these my “Oh. Wow.” moments.  They are usually unexpected – I can’t predict when they are going to happen.  They tend to take my breath away.  They fill me with a sense of my insignificance in the big picture; they make me feel as though I am in the presence of something so much bigger than myself; and yet they also fill me with gratitude that I have the opportunity to be where I am in that moment.

 

There is a spot on the road from Kenora to Wabasemoong in northwestern Ontario, where the road curves around a lake on the left-hand side of the road and a cliff towers over the right-hand side of the road that usually brings me one of these “Oh. Wow.” moments.  I experienced it many times when I was living in Tanzania, but one moment in particular stands out, when I was worshipping in a house church on Christmas morning looking out over the rolling hills.  Oh. Wow. I can’t believe I am in this place at this time.

 

Awe is a heavy word, even though it’s meaning has been trivialized by how we use it.  If something is good, we call it “awesome” or containing some awe.  If something is really bad, we call it “awful” or full of awe.  But we don’t often think about awe itself.  To me, it’s a word that carries both reverence and fear that comes with being in the presence of someone or something that is so much more or so much greater.  Awe on its own is so much more than either awesome or awful.

 

And to me, the reading from Isaiah that _____ shared with us is a reading that is full of awe.  I don’t know about you, but I can’t imagine what it would have been like to have been in that moment.  The author uses imperfect human words to try and describe what is happening. The room is filled with choking, blinding smoke. Six-winged seraphs are flying around the room – I heard one commentator describe seraphs as being like giant snakes with wings, and we’re told that two wings covered their faces, two wings covered their feet, and two wings were used to fly around the room.  The seraphs are singing, and who knows what language they were using, but they are singing praise to God.  And then the room begins to shake, like an earthquake is trying to shake it loose from its foundations.  And then God is there, sitting on a throne, surrounded by all of these unworldly creatures and occurrences.

 

I don’t know about Isaiah, but I think that I would have been absolutely terrified in this moment.  Nothing that is happening in this moment can be made sense of using logic or reason or even past experiences.

 

This passage is a description of the prophet Isaiah’s call story – the moment when God called Isaiah to go to the people of Ancient Israel and point them back towards God and back towards living the way that God wanted them to live, loving and honouring God, and loving and living well with their neighbours.

 

And if this was the only description of God that we were ever given, it would be a pretty terrifying God that we follow.  But fortunately this image or depiction of God isn’t the only one we are given.

 

We have to hold this picture of God up beside a picture of a vulnerable baby lying in a manger.  Because the same God who sits on a throne in that smoke-filled room where Isaiah was called – this same God chose to become human in the person of Jesus, and as a red and wrinkled newborn was wrapped tightly in a blanket and placed in a stone trough where animals feed.  As the person of Jesus, God felt what it is to be hungry, knew what it is to be tired, experienced both love and betrayal.  This same God who inspires awe and praises in that moment of Isaiah’s vision emptied themself of all of their power and allowed themself to be nailed to a cross and left there to die.

 

We have to hold the picture of God that Jesus shows us – a God who chooses to become vulnerable – beside the picture of God that Isaiah paints for us.

 

And we are given more depictions of God.  As well as the awe-inspiring God of Isaiah, and the vulnerable God in Jesus, we also have images of the ever-present God.  Here I think of God as depicted in the story of Noah, when God and Noah used to walk together, and God gave Noah detailed building instructions for an ark.

 

Last Sunday, with Pentecost, we celebrated the very present nature of God in the Holy Spirit.  The Holy Spirit is God working in the world.  God is working in you, working in me, working in all people, working in the river and the trees and the rocks and the wind, transforming us all into who and what God created us to be.  In the Holy Spirit, God is always closer to you than your very breath; God is holding you in love; God is lighting a fire under your behind when you need to act; God is empowering you to do the hard work of loving all of your neighbours, the hard work of forgiveness, the hard work of doing justice.

 

We have been given all of these different pictures of who God is, and to me, that is what the Trinity is all about.  Today is Trinity Sunday when we get to talk about who God is; and because we can see God as Trinity, we can see God as all of these things.  It’s not an either/or situation, God is a both/and.  God is all of these, and more.  We don’t have to choose which of these pictures of God is the “right one.”  On the flip side, we don’t get to choose which of these pictures of God is the one we want.  God simply is.

 

God is the awe-inspiring presence in Isaiah, surrounded by smoke and flying seraphim.  God is the vulnerable baby born at Christmas who would later be nailed to the cross.  God is the Holy Presence that surrounds you and works in your life.  All of these are the same God who reveals God-self to us in these different ways.  This is who God is; the one-in-three and the three-in-one.

 

My favourite image for the Trinity is a trio of dancers holding hands, or maybe with their arms around each others’ shoulders. Sometimes one of them is leading, sometimes another one. Each of the dancers is distinct from the other, but they can never be separated from each other and they are always dancing to the same music.

 

And my favourite part of this image is that we are invited to join the dance, to become part of the swirling energy and beauty of God.  The Holy Spirit who is God working in each one of us is drawing us into the divine dance.  And just thinking about this fills my heart with awe and brings goosebumps out on my arms.

 

And so the question that I want to leave with you today is, how are you going to dance with God this week?  Where is the divine music going to lead you?

 

And may it be so.  Amen.

 

 

Trinity Sunday

"Fire and Wind and Doves" (sermon)

Two Rivers Pastoral Charge
Sunday May 19, 2024 – Pentecost
Scripture:  Acts 2:1-21


I want to begin today where we ended last Sunday. If you were worshipping with us last week, you might remember that we read the story of Jesus’s ascension – 40 days after his resurrection, Jesus ascended into heaven as his disciples watched on.  Last Sunday I talked about this strange period of 10 days that followed that holy moment of the ascension as the disciples waited for their “what next.”

 

Jesus had told them to wait in Jerusalem and so after witnessing the ascension, that is where the disciples go to wait. I also mentioned last week that their “what next” was worth waiting for, and that is where today’s story comes in.

 

Pentecost falls on the 50^th day of Easter – the “pente” at the beginning of the name comes from the Greek word for 50. This is the Jewish feast day of Shavuot, falling seven weeks after Passover.  It is a feast that celebrates the giving of the Torah, the biblical books of the law. It is a festival closely tied to the harvest, a time when the first fruits of the harvest are offered to God.  And in the time of the bible, it was also a pilgrimage festival when Jewish people would make a pilgrimage to the temple in Jerusalem.

 

So just like at the feast of Passover when Jesus was crucified, at the time of Shavuot the city of Jerusalem would have been crowded with people from all over the known world, having come to make their festival pilgrimage.  The streets would have been packed with a cacophony of languages filling the air.

 

And so it came to be that 10 days into their period of waiting, Jesus’s disciples gather together to celebrate the festival.  And what happened there was the beginning of their “what next” that they had been waiting for.

 

Last week, I also talked about the stories in the bible when God’s presence is more immediately felt, like in Jesus’s baptism, or the story of the transfiguration. Today’s story may be the most dramatic example of these.  A sound like a mighty wind filled the room where they had gathered, drowning out any other noise. What appeared to be tongues of fire seemed to rest on the heads of each of the disciples. And then this collection of uneducated fishermen from Galilee found themselves able to speak the different languages of all of the pilgrims who were gathered in Jerusalem for the festival, so that the good news of Jesus could be heard by everyone.

 

It is a powerful and awe-filled story.  I can’t help but wonder what it would have been like to have been there in that room that day.  What were the disciples feeling as they heard the wind and saw the fire and found themselves able to speak languages that they had never studied?

 

Pentecost and the coming of the Holy Spirit in power is sometimes referred to as the birthday of the church. If we were to read on ahead, 3000 people asked to be baptized that day, and the message of Jesus began to travel beyond Jerusalem, beyond Galilee, to reach far-flung corners of the world.

 

And it would be very easy to focus on the spectacle of Pentecost – on the wind and the flames and the languages.  But the Holy Spirit is about so much more than spectacle.

 

When I was a student at AST, one of the classes I took was on the Holy Spirit; and for our final evaluation in that class we had the option to choose to create a piece of art that would express the theology that we had been learning using whatever artistic medium we chose.  I chose music, but one of my friends did a painting.

 

What she did was create a beautiful abstract work that incorporated all of the colours of the rainbow and movement, and since visual art isn’t the artistic language that I speak, I can’t tell you all of the technical details, but somehow her painting seemed to radiate love.  And then over top of the painting that she created, she laid a blank piece of paper, onto which she had made a bunch of little doors, a bit like an Advent Calendar.  On one of the doors she had a picture of a dove descending from heaven, like the Holy Spirit at Jesus’s baptism.  On another of the doors, she had a picture of flames.  On another of the doors she had a picture of a waterfall, living water.  On yet another door she had a picture of a tornado, or rushing wind.  You could open each of the doors, and they would give you a glimpse of the abstract reality underneath, but you could only ever catch a glimpse.

 

Last week, I talked about the challenge of trying to depict the Holy, whether with words or with pictures, which is how we have ended up with humourous pictures of the Ascension with Jesus’s feet dangling down from a cloud.  It is the same with the Holy Spirit.  The Holy Spirit isn’t a literal bird that drops feathers and might poop on your head.  The Holy Spirit isn’t flames dancing in an enclosed room.  The Holy Spirit isn’t a hurricane force wind filling your ears with the pressure of sound.  And yet each and every one of these symbols reveals something about the Holy Spirit.

 

She is unpredictable and untamed like a dove.  She is powerful and maybe a little bit dangerous like the flames.  She is impossible to ignore and urgent like the sound of a mighty wind.  And yet the Holy Spirit is so much more than all of this, even when we add all of the symbols together.

 

The Holy Spirit is the aspect of God who is working in and through all of creation.  She is transforming all of us, alongside all of creation, into who and what God created us and calls us to be.  She gives all of us unique gifts, just as those first disciples were given the gift of speaking in foreign languages, and then she nudges us into situations where we can use those gifts to share God’s love with the world.

 

Today is the moment when those disciples leapt into their “what next.”  They might have longed to go back to those days after the resurrection when Jesus was with them in Jerusalem, teaching them directly about God’s kingdom.  They might have longed to go back to the good old days when they were with Jesus in Galilee, watching him walk on water and heal lepers and feed crowds of thousands of people with a couple of loaves of bread.  But they couldn’t go back – we can’t go back – we can only go forward into our “what next.”

 

Pentecost marks their jumping-off point into the unknown.  They could have hidden in the room as all of this was happening.  Maybe it would have been easier, at least in the short term, to hide away.  But they trusted that God was with them, they trusted that God was putting words on their lips, and Peter stepped out into the crowd and began telling them about how God’s love was made known in Jesus.  And nothing in the world would ever be the same again… but in the best possible way.

 

Last week, I asked about our “what nexts” both as individuals and as a church.  What gifts has the Holy Spirit given to us; and where are we being called to use them?  For we don’t need tongues of fire and a rush of mighty wind to let us know that the Holy Spirit is here, in this place, working in and through all of us as the church.  And so I ask, what is our “what next” going to be?

 

And may the Holy Spirit inspire us, equip us, and guide us along the way.  Amen.

 

 

One image/symbol of the Holy Spirit (descending like a dove)

Stained glass window in the chapel of the Panacea Museum,
Bedford, UK

What is your favourite symbol for the Holy Spirit?

"What Next?" - Sermon

Two Rivers Pastoral Charge
Sunday May 12, 2024
Scripture:  Acts 1:1-11


It is good to be back here!  It was strange for me this year, to travel through Holy Week and most of the season of Easter as a worshipping member of a congregation, with no worship leadership or music responsibilities – something that I haven’t done in more than 20 years.

But here we are, on the 7^th and final Sunday in the season of Easter, on the threshold of Pentecost, the next major festival in the church year.

 

Last Thursday was the feast of the Ascension, and that is the story that Chris read for us this morning. Last Thursday was 40 days since Easter Morning. Jesus had spent 40 days after his resurrection in deep conversation with his disciples, giving them final teachings and instructions, knowing that this time of deep intimacy couldn’t last forever. As compared with the time before Jesus’s death, they don’t seem to have been traveling around, Jesus isn’t teaching large crowds, Jesus isn’t healing anyone or working miracles. Instead they are staying in Jerusalem and Jesus is teaching his closest friends and followers about the Kingdom of God and the coming of the Holy Spirit.

 

And then we come to today’s curious story.  Jesus and his disciples travel about a day’s journey outside of Jerusalem – if we read on a couple of verses from what we read today, we’d see that this story takes place on a hill called Olivet. And then the disciples watch as Jesus rises up off the ground and is carried away into the sky.

 

(Side note:  if you do a Google image search for the Ascension, there are some very entertaining pictures out there, like these, that show Jesus’s feet dangling from a cloud in the sky.)

 

The Ascension of Christ – Hans Süss von Kulmbach

Public Domain

 

The Ascension of Christ – Adriaen van Overbeke

Public Domain

 

But humour aside, this is another story where something is happening that the disciples don’t quite understand; another story where something mysterious is happening; another story where the mystery and holiness of God draws a little bit closer.  I read this story alongside stories like the story of the transfiguration where Peter, James, and John encountered God’s holiness when Jesus’s physical body was transformed on top of a mountain. I read this story alongside stories like Jesus’s baptism, when the Holy Spirit descended like a dove, and God’s voice spoke to Jesus. I read this story alongside stories like Moses conversing with God on top of a mountain in the desert.  All of these stories bring a sense of other-ness; they bring a sense of mystery; they bring a sense of the holiness and the immediacy of God’s presence.

 

And here we have another one of these stories, and because the holiness of God as encountered in stories like these can be hard to depict with non-abstract art, you end up with pictures of Jesus’s feet dangling down from the clouds.

 

After any encounter with God, there is always a feeling of “what next?” that lingers. Moses encounters God on the mountaintop – all well and good, but what next? Moses then had to come down the mountain and lead the people through the wilderness for 40 years towards the Promised Land.  Jesus hears God’s voice as he rises out of the water of baptism, naming him as a beloved child – a beautiful story, but what next? Jesus then goes into the desert for 40 days to fast and pray and then begins his public ministry.  Peter, James, and John witness an awe-inspiring transfiguration on top of the mountain – how do you move on from that?  They came down the mountain, and accompanied Jesus on his final journey to Jerusalem, to the cross, and then on to the resurrection.

 

And here we have the disciples watching Jesus ascend into heaven, they encounter a couple of messengers from God, or angels.  What next?

 

Stepping outside of today’s story, I can tell you that their “what next” is going to come next Sunday, 10 days after they witnessed the ascension.  (If you want to read ahead this week, you can check out chapter 2 in the book of Acts.) But for now, all that they know is that Jesus has told them to stay in Jerusalem and wait for their what next.  Again, stepping outside of the story, we know that their “what next” is worth waiting for, but for those disciples, they had no idea of what was coming.  God is about to do a new thing in their lives, and in the lives of the world, but they can’t quite see it clearly yet.

 

I don’t know exactly where each of you is on your faith journey, but I suspect that if I took a survey, some of us are vibrating with excitement at the nearness of God, some of us are in that in-between waiting stage of wondering “what next?”; and some of us are tumbling into the Pentecost excitement of that new thing.

 

For me, coming back from 3 months away on Sabbatical, the story of the Ascension really resonates with me this year.  Despite the sadness of yesterday’s funeral, my heart has been smiling since Wednesday as I’ve seen and heard about everything that has gone on around Two Rivers Pastoral Charge since I’ve been away – from PIE Day celebrations to 1400 Sandwiches for Romero House to Spirit-filled worship services led by members of our Two Rivers Pastoral Charge church family to a new garden going in to augment Ida’s Cupboard.  I’m not surprised that all of this has happened, but it is making my heart smile.  And I get a very strong sense of being right on the threshold of the “what next.”  I feel as though we are right at the edge of a Pentecost moment of newness of energy and revitalization and equipping in our call to be the church.

 

Even if the disciples longed for the “good old days” when they could see Jesus, when they could reach out and touch him, they couldn’t go back in time – they could only go forward.  They had to trust that the new ways that God would be with them would be just as important, just as good as the old ways that were gone.

 

And it’s the same for us, 2000 years later. We can’t go back to the way that things were, but we can eagerly anticipate our “what next” as we journey together, trusting that God’s got plans for us!

 

And may it be so.  Amen.

Lessons from Sabbatical - Final Reflections

Today is my last day of Sabbatical, and I’m spending some time yesterday and today preparing for my re-entry back to the church. (Technically my Sabbatical ended on April 30, but this first week of May has been Study Leave as I took a course on Rural Ministry last week.)

I spent 11 days in the UK at the end of my time off – a combination of visiting friends, doing the tourist thing, and taking the aforementioned Rural Ministry course. It was good to re-connect with friends that I haven’t seen in 5, 7, or 20 years, and in my conversations with them I had opportunities to reflect back on my Sabbatical – how it has felt to be off, and how I am going to carry the things that I have learned forward with me.  Because if I don’t carry these lessons with me, it will be a long 5 years before I have the opportunity to do another reset!

 

So… what do I need to do differently?

·      I need to make sure that I maintain my better sleep habits. In March of 2020, I let myself slip into some atrocious sleep habits – because I didn’t need to get up in the morning, there was no point in going to bed early, but when I did need to start getting up in the morning again, I kept staying up far too late. It took a couple of months to get there, but I feel well-rested for the first time since 2020. I’ve put a couple of practical things in place that will hopefully help this – setting up a “time to get ready for bed” alarm on my phone, figuring out the things that stop me from going to bed early (eg procrastinating on washing the dishes) and doing something to change them, and changing my morning routine to motivate myself to get out of bed on schedule.

·      I need to make sure that I take time to mourn myself after every funeral. Bottling up my grief without a chance to release it leads to emotional fatigue. And I have recognized that this is important not just when it is the funeral for someone whom I cared deeply for, but also for funerals when I didn’t know the person but I end up carrying the grief of their loved ones. My post-funeral self-care is going to look different.

·      I also need to be more intentional about nurturing my spirit (again, another bad habit that developed in March 2020). In the past 10 days, I’ve heard two different sermons that felt like they were preached right at me, reminding me of the importance of this! And when I get bogged down in the things that do the opposite of this (budgets, buildings…) I need to remind myself of the heart of my calling.

·      Finally, I’ve had some conversations about ministry that have helped me to remember that the ministry is the ministry of the whole church and not just the minister. Maybe I need to remember my own sermon from right before my sabbatical, that the church will keep on churching, regardless of the presence of the minister. Because it truly is God’s church.

 

These are the heart of my reflections over the past couple of weeks. And tomorrow I jump back in to ministry with both feet (and it is looking like a busy re-entry, with both a funeral and a wedding, as well as Sunday services, scheduled for my first 8 days back!) so I will have a good chance to keep practicing these things right away.

 

 

A stained glass window I encountered in England