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Saturday, December 10, 2011
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Sunday, December 4
Poor Joseph. As Andrew said at
the beginning of the sermon, Joseph often gets short shrift at
Christmas time. And yet, as Andrew went on to point out, Joseph has
a key part in the story. Although he had set out to leave Mary, he
acts – with much faith – on the advice of the angel in his dream.
He sticks with Mary, and with Jesus. Andrew said that Joseph
“becomes part of God's unfolding purposes of humanity”(or something along those lines...) :).
Andrew went on to describe how we are
like Joseph. We have received messages from God, through Jesus, that
seem crazy and sometimes even impossible. But, like Joseph, we are
called to have faith and to pursue good always.... To think of faith
as a verb so that God can work for the good of others through us.
I found myself thinking about how pursuing good can be difficult, exhausting and overwhelming. In the Prayers of Thanksgiving and Intercession, right after the sermon, we prayed for the community of Attawapiskat, for world leaders discussing climate change in Durban this week, and for the election taking place in Egypt. It can be overwhelming, in these types of situations, to think of listening to God's call to work for the good of others, to pursue good always. How do we answer God's call to care for our sisters and brothers in Attawapiskat, for example?
I liked the connection that Andrew made with the Communion part of the service – we take the bread and wine to give us strength to continue pursuing good in the midst of darkness, in the midst of being overwhelmed or being shown an easier way. I tend to see worship in general this way. Throughout the week, we try to live as God instructed us through Jesus... even though it is can be difficult. On Sunday, we come together for encouragement so that we are renewed in our commitment to pursue good.
Huda's Prayer of Approach this morning started the service with “Come, Lord Jesus,” praying that God would be present in our midst as we worshipped. The last verse of the final hymn, “Lo! Christ comes with clouds descending,” repeated over and over - “Come, Lord Jesus.” We want God to be with us not only in our worship, but as we go out from worship – out to live in the world, to pursue good, to play our parts in God's unfolding purposes of humanity.
Laura
I found myself thinking about how pursuing good can be difficult, exhausting and overwhelming. In the Prayers of Thanksgiving and Intercession, right after the sermon, we prayed for the community of Attawapiskat, for world leaders discussing climate change in Durban this week, and for the election taking place in Egypt. It can be overwhelming, in these types of situations, to think of listening to God's call to work for the good of others, to pursue good always. How do we answer God's call to care for our sisters and brothers in Attawapiskat, for example?
I liked the connection that Andrew made with the Communion part of the service – we take the bread and wine to give us strength to continue pursuing good in the midst of darkness, in the midst of being overwhelmed or being shown an easier way. I tend to see worship in general this way. Throughout the week, we try to live as God instructed us through Jesus... even though it is can be difficult. On Sunday, we come together for encouragement so that we are renewed in our commitment to pursue good.
Huda's Prayer of Approach this morning started the service with “Come, Lord Jesus,” praying that God would be present in our midst as we worshipped. The last verse of the final hymn, “Lo! Christ comes with clouds descending,” repeated over and over - “Come, Lord Jesus.” We want God to be with us not only in our worship, but as we go out from worship – out to live in the world, to pursue good, to play our parts in God's unfolding purposes of humanity.
Laura
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Sunday, November 27
Wow! We've looped right back to advent again!
For me, the seasons never fail to amaze. I am, to some extent, locked in perpetual wonder. This year, advent is particularly meaningful because my church school class is exploring what knowledge and meaning can be gleaned from various elements within the Christmas story. Over the years, we've taken many different approaches to that story, but one that focuses on each element - lingering, asking, seeking - can be quite illuminating.
Over the course of the story, we get to ponder the various and, in some cases, multiple roles of Mary, the manger, the Magi, the star, Herod, the killing of innocents, a donkey, Egypt, the Christ-child, and so on. Of course, in a classroom, there are no fully canned approaches, no pre-determined responses. Where one student sees meaning, another seeks it, and through the sharing of perspectives, faith is deepened.
Advent is a season of hope, a season that invites us to look forward to the coming of His kingdom. As a Church, that hope is strengthened with every young mind that ponders meaning within the Christmas story, that seeks Christ within and beyond the season. Bring all those minds together, as additions to the Church, and surely as we loop back and back to this season of Emmanuel, our hope grows, advent grows, and in our time and space, His kingdom comes.
For me, the seasons never fail to amaze. I am, to some extent, locked in perpetual wonder. This year, advent is particularly meaningful because my church school class is exploring what knowledge and meaning can be gleaned from various elements within the Christmas story. Over the years, we've taken many different approaches to that story, but one that focuses on each element - lingering, asking, seeking - can be quite illuminating.
Over the course of the story, we get to ponder the various and, in some cases, multiple roles of Mary, the manger, the Magi, the star, Herod, the killing of innocents, a donkey, Egypt, the Christ-child, and so on. Of course, in a classroom, there are no fully canned approaches, no pre-determined responses. Where one student sees meaning, another seeks it, and through the sharing of perspectives, faith is deepened.
Advent is a season of hope, a season that invites us to look forward to the coming of His kingdom. As a Church, that hope is strengthened with every young mind that ponders meaning within the Christmas story, that seeks Christ within and beyond the season. Bring all those minds together, as additions to the Church, and surely as we loop back and back to this season of Emmanuel, our hope grows, advent grows, and in our time and space, His kingdom comes.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Sunday, November 20
The focus of today's worship on restorative justice resonated very
clearly with the work I undertake in my life. I was very grateful in
particular for a chance to reflect on the story of Jesus' healing of
Jarius' daughter and of the other woman in the story. The story
surprised me: it made me realize how little I know of Jesus' work on
earth and how much more often I should read the Bible. There is so much
in the narrative but it spoke to me in particular as a wonderful
affirmation of:
1. the equal value of women to men and of people notwithstanding their social position.
2. the separation between God's law and human laws and social hierarchies: Jesus did not prioritize one person over the other dependant upon their social position; he did not see the woman as unclean or unworthy
3. the fundamentally iconoclastic and un-patriarchal relation of Jesus to the woman: she is defined as "daughter", and not, as patriarchal social structures would posit, by virtue of her relationships to powerful or powerless men. It is also un-patriarchal that she did not wait for rescue but worked her own redemption in faith and through Jesus.
4.the redemptive power of faith
5. The story speaks to the contingency of moments and the importance of self-help: Jesus did not scorn the woman for taking action. She needed to take action; faith did not involve passivity. I was also very grateful that Andrew shared the story of his maternal grandfather, which is a very sad story, but has strong and important resonances for our own times. We are always navigating, when social systems intersect with out lives, between complicity and resistance: it is not a zero sum question. Just as this man was both a member of Germany's state church under a Nazi regime and a member of a resistance to it, so do we at all times have rolese where we resist and roles where we participate in oppressive structure simultaneously.
1. the equal value of women to men and of people notwithstanding their social position.
2. the separation between God's law and human laws and social hierarchies: Jesus did not prioritize one person over the other dependant upon their social position; he did not see the woman as unclean or unworthy
3. the fundamentally iconoclastic and un-patriarchal relation of Jesus to the woman: she is defined as "daughter", and not, as patriarchal social structures would posit, by virtue of her relationships to powerful or powerless men. It is also un-patriarchal that she did not wait for rescue but worked her own redemption in faith and through Jesus.
4.the redemptive power of faith
5. The story speaks to the contingency of moments and the importance of self-help: Jesus did not scorn the woman for taking action. She needed to take action; faith did not involve passivity. I was also very grateful that Andrew shared the story of his maternal grandfather, which is a very sad story, but has strong and important resonances for our own times. We are always navigating, when social systems intersect with out lives, between complicity and resistance: it is not a zero sum question. Just as this man was both a member of Germany's state church under a Nazi regime and a member of a resistance to it, so do we at all times have rolese where we resist and roles where we participate in oppressive structure simultaneously.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Sunday, November 13
What a privilege it is to write a blog about worship this morning!
It was a service filled with new things - most particularly with new members joining today and with Huda's first sermon being spoken from the pulpit. Especially salient for me was Huda's remark about "leaving the mystery intact" with respect to the question of scientific explanations and their presence or absence to account for the story in which Jesus and then Peter both walk on water. This touched on a fundamental point for me, in fact, precisely the point that brought me back to faith after many years of professed athiesm or at least agnosticism. Huda quoted Descartes for the oft-cited fundamental defining proposition of rationality "I think therefore I am." It was rationalism that led me away from my childhood's faith. For a long time, I had a great deal of difficulty reconciling the rationalist outlook of my secular education, particularly in science and social science: archaeology, anthropology and law, with a faith that could be logically compatible with rationality.
As Huda said this morning, faith is compatible even with doubt. What brought me back from years away from the church was actually Ludwig Wittgenstein, who wrote in his Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus:
The notions of mystery and journey resonated very strongly for me as our new members joined. They are each on their own journeys, as are we all, as am I. It is for the journey and the companionship on it that I am grateful.
Rebecca
It was a service filled with new things - most particularly with new members joining today and with Huda's first sermon being spoken from the pulpit. Especially salient for me was Huda's remark about "leaving the mystery intact" with respect to the question of scientific explanations and their presence or absence to account for the story in which Jesus and then Peter both walk on water. This touched on a fundamental point for me, in fact, precisely the point that brought me back to faith after many years of professed athiesm or at least agnosticism. Huda quoted Descartes for the oft-cited fundamental defining proposition of rationality "I think therefore I am." It was rationalism that led me away from my childhood's faith. For a long time, I had a great deal of difficulty reconciling the rationalist outlook of my secular education, particularly in science and social science: archaeology, anthropology and law, with a faith that could be logically compatible with rationality.
As Huda said this morning, faith is compatible even with doubt. What brought me back from years away from the church was actually Ludwig Wittgenstein, who wrote in his Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus:
...Even if all possible scientific questions be answered, the problems of life have still not been touched at all.Which is to say that, as far as I am concerned, were an archaeologist digging in the Middle East to find a mechanism proving beyond a doubt some sort of scientific explanation or even magical hoax behind Jesus walking on water, that would not explain away the mysteries of who he was, and what he said, what people heard when he was speaking, the power of God, and what that continues to mean for us in this far away land today.
The notions of mystery and journey resonated very strongly for me as our new members joined. They are each on their own journeys, as are we all, as am I. It is for the journey and the companionship on it that I am grateful.
Rebecca
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Sunday, November 6
Today was my first time back at service after a 3-week’s absence and how wonderful it
felt to be back worshipping and praying in our community!
As it is Remembrance Sunday, we spent some time reflecting on the sacrifice made by
so many so often to assure our freedom. This freedom from war and totalitarianism
that we enjoy in Canada was continued and expanded upon in Andrew’s sermon.
The text comes from our continuing study of the Gospel of Saint Mark – today was
chapter 5, 1-20 – the story of the Madman and Jesus’ healing. In our translation
the demon announces: “My name is Legion,” and in mine (The Message), it’s
rendered “My name is Mob. I’m a rioting mob.” This illustrates one of the reasons
that I really like The Message translation – it sounds much more immediate to my
ears.
As Andrew pointed out, this story is really all about Jesus and His power to heal, but
the other characters in the story are instructive as the reader (or at least this reader)
relates to them more easily.
I am not admitting here to multiple personality disorder, but there have been times
when I have felt like there is a rioting mob within – conflicting values, pressures,
priorities, etc. The resolution to these feelings is, of course, prayer and faith in
the healing power of Christ in our lives. Perhaps not as directly as the Madman
experienced, but the power of the everlasting means exactly this.
The other characters in the story are the farmers tending the pigs. When the demons
inhabit the pigs, freeing the Madman, they die, thus depriving the farmers of their
livelihood, or at least a part thereof. They react, to my mind, logically – they are angry
with Jesus and demand that He leave. They are afraid – of loss, of a terribly strange
occurrence, and perhaps most keenly, of having to adjust to the healed person “no
longer a walking madhouse of a man.”
The challenge that this story leaves with the reader is two-fold – how do we, after
having experienced the healing power of Christ, go forward; and how do others, in
the wake of changed circumstances, adjust. The answer in Mark is that the madman
preached and became “the talk of the town.” Mark does not provide an answer to
how the community reacted, but perhaps the answer is in Andrew’s exhortation to
generosity in all ways that we can.
It was a great day for me to return to service and I hope to work through the response
demanded by this story in the coming week.
Geoffrey
felt to be back worshipping and praying in our community!
As it is Remembrance Sunday, we spent some time reflecting on the sacrifice made by
so many so often to assure our freedom. This freedom from war and totalitarianism
that we enjoy in Canada was continued and expanded upon in Andrew’s sermon.
The text comes from our continuing study of the Gospel of Saint Mark – today was
chapter 5, 1-20 – the story of the Madman and Jesus’ healing. In our translation
the demon announces: “My name is Legion,” and in mine (The Message), it’s
rendered “My name is Mob. I’m a rioting mob.” This illustrates one of the reasons
that I really like The Message translation – it sounds much more immediate to my
ears.
As Andrew pointed out, this story is really all about Jesus and His power to heal, but
the other characters in the story are instructive as the reader (or at least this reader)
relates to them more easily.
I am not admitting here to multiple personality disorder, but there have been times
when I have felt like there is a rioting mob within – conflicting values, pressures,
priorities, etc. The resolution to these feelings is, of course, prayer and faith in
the healing power of Christ in our lives. Perhaps not as directly as the Madman
experienced, but the power of the everlasting means exactly this.
The other characters in the story are the farmers tending the pigs. When the demons
inhabit the pigs, freeing the Madman, they die, thus depriving the farmers of their
livelihood, or at least a part thereof. They react, to my mind, logically – they are angry
with Jesus and demand that He leave. They are afraid – of loss, of a terribly strange
occurrence, and perhaps most keenly, of having to adjust to the healed person “no
longer a walking madhouse of a man.”
The challenge that this story leaves with the reader is two-fold – how do we, after
having experienced the healing power of Christ, go forward; and how do others, in
the wake of changed circumstances, adjust. The answer in Mark is that the madman
preached and became “the talk of the town.” Mark does not provide an answer to
how the community reacted, but perhaps the answer is in Andrew’s exhortation to
generosity in all ways that we can.
It was a great day for me to return to service and I hope to work through the response
demanded by this story in the coming week.
Geoffrey
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Sunday, October 30
I attended the early service this morning and I was going down the church steps as some folks were arriving for the 11am service. I wanted to stop them and say, "Get ready, it's a great service you're in for!" This is surprising actually, since I started the morning not feeling very worshipful - and admittedly not very focused. But in his sermon, Andrew spoke on Mark 4, where Jesus talks about the mustard seed growing into a bush for the birds of the air to nest in, and Andrew compared it to the description of the noble cedar from Ezekiel 17.
A couple thoughts: This morning was a reminder to me that it's not our job to make things grow, in fact all we can do is sow the seeds and let the Lord do the work. It's not up to us to create results, but results will certainly happen. A necessary reminder.
But a new thought for me came this morning while considering the humble mustard bush in contrast to the noble cedar. The birds of the air were nesting in the mustard bush, just like they were in the cedar. We plan for and expect great things, but sometimes it's the simple things that get the job done. I think that often I get caught up in the results, looking for a giant cedar, when really I need to focus on doing my job - living my life and sowing the seeds.
Andrew told us the "birds of the air" is used as an expression in the bible to mean all the nations of the earth. In Mark and also in Ezekiel, the birds of the air find sanctuary in the shade of the tree. What a lovely and inclusive invitation. I'm so thankful we have the opportunity to build our nests in the shade of His tree, and humbled by the seeds he's given us to sow.
-Maureen.
A couple thoughts: This morning was a reminder to me that it's not our job to make things grow, in fact all we can do is sow the seeds and let the Lord do the work. It's not up to us to create results, but results will certainly happen. A necessary reminder.
But a new thought for me came this morning while considering the humble mustard bush in contrast to the noble cedar. The birds of the air were nesting in the mustard bush, just like they were in the cedar. We plan for and expect great things, but sometimes it's the simple things that get the job done. I think that often I get caught up in the results, looking for a giant cedar, when really I need to focus on doing my job - living my life and sowing the seeds.
Andrew told us the "birds of the air" is used as an expression in the bible to mean all the nations of the earth. In Mark and also in Ezekiel, the birds of the air find sanctuary in the shade of the tree. What a lovely and inclusive invitation. I'm so thankful we have the opportunity to build our nests in the shade of His tree, and humbled by the seeds he's given us to sow.
-Maureen.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Sunday, October 23
On this commitment Sunday, I have been thinking about challenges, growth and about light.
It is a season of challenge. Fall is at its height, which means of course that winter is approaching. Under blustery skies, we know as all Canadians do that winter is coming. As happens so often, recent events have presented challenges to many of us. Andrew's announcements this morning included references to several deaths and other illnesses. Health crises, legal and political inequities surround us and the world simply does not unfold as we think it should. Problems defy easy answers.
With its dramatic shadows, fall is a season of fascinating light. This morning, I loved how the colours of the fall, at their height in the trees, were echoed in the colours on the "flames" waved by our children as they all danced back into church. I loved the sunlight flooding through windows and doorframes, the sunshine a timeless reminder of the warm presence of light in our lives.
Somewhat paradoxically, fall is also a season of growth. Today's bible readings referred to growth, about planting seeds in all the soil, about cultivating and nurturing seeds of knowledge. In the car on the way home, our backseat was occupied by an intense debate about whether the burning bush was actually burning or whether this was, as my seven year old said, " a trick of the light from God's voice being in the bush." Four little voices chimed in their views on the subject and those elder of us in the front seat were amused by this, our children's first theological debate. It is exciting and also a relief to see our children growing, in body and in faith, and also a wonderful thing to see the numbers of children in the congregation of St. Andrews growing too.
The growing dusk of a fall Sunday seems to me a very appropriate time for commitment. Because, when there are no challenges, commitment isn't a challenging choice. But commitment to light is seems to be the only path to growth. And commitment is valuable precisely because it is a challenging choice to move forward on a path guided by meanings where, as Andrew noted, as Steve Jobs noticed, though he was so creatively blessed before his untimely end, things so often don't seem to go right.
Rebecca
It is a season of challenge. Fall is at its height, which means of course that winter is approaching. Under blustery skies, we know as all Canadians do that winter is coming. As happens so often, recent events have presented challenges to many of us. Andrew's announcements this morning included references to several deaths and other illnesses. Health crises, legal and political inequities surround us and the world simply does not unfold as we think it should. Problems defy easy answers.
With its dramatic shadows, fall is a season of fascinating light. This morning, I loved how the colours of the fall, at their height in the trees, were echoed in the colours on the "flames" waved by our children as they all danced back into church. I loved the sunlight flooding through windows and doorframes, the sunshine a timeless reminder of the warm presence of light in our lives.
Somewhat paradoxically, fall is also a season of growth. Today's bible readings referred to growth, about planting seeds in all the soil, about cultivating and nurturing seeds of knowledge. In the car on the way home, our backseat was occupied by an intense debate about whether the burning bush was actually burning or whether this was, as my seven year old said, " a trick of the light from God's voice being in the bush." Four little voices chimed in their views on the subject and those elder of us in the front seat were amused by this, our children's first theological debate. It is exciting and also a relief to see our children growing, in body and in faith, and also a wonderful thing to see the numbers of children in the congregation of St. Andrews growing too.
The growing dusk of a fall Sunday seems to me a very appropriate time for commitment. Because, when there are no challenges, commitment isn't a challenging choice. But commitment to light is seems to be the only path to growth. And commitment is valuable precisely because it is a challenging choice to move forward on a path guided by meanings where, as Andrew noted, as Steve Jobs noticed, though he was so creatively blessed before his untimely end, things so often don't seem to go right.
Rebecca
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Sunday October 16
Today is World Food Day, a worldwide day to remember that many do not have enough on their tables. Coming so soon after Thanksgiving, I found it particularly important for me to remember that not everyone has all the blessings I'm able to enjoy. As I listened to Andrew read the readings from Proverbs, (19:17, 22:9, 29:7) I realised it wasn't going to be a pleasant, relax-in-your-pew sort of morning. We were going to be called to action.
But listening to Andrew speak on Mark 3, it turns out that we don't have to be pushed or guilted into change. The truth is that we have the freedom to change. We don't have to be trapped by the old ways of doing things, the old institutions and the old traditions. We are free to follow the better way. Jesus has bound the "Strong Man" and he no longer controls us.
Right away, my mind was brought to the Occupy Wall Street movement. Now there are some people trying to change the old, unjust, unequal ways of doing things. These are exciting times when people are recognising that being the richest is not the best and only goal. And there's even more we can do - we've been freed, remember? What about some personal things that we've been called to change in our own lives? What about the gifts we've been given that we can share with those around us? We don't have to be afraid, we can choose to walk in the new way.
From the last hymn, Lord, you give the great commission:
Maureen.
But listening to Andrew speak on Mark 3, it turns out that we don't have to be pushed or guilted into change. The truth is that we have the freedom to change. We don't have to be trapped by the old ways of doing things, the old institutions and the old traditions. We are free to follow the better way. Jesus has bound the "Strong Man" and he no longer controls us.
Right away, my mind was brought to the Occupy Wall Street movement. Now there are some people trying to change the old, unjust, unequal ways of doing things. These are exciting times when people are recognising that being the richest is not the best and only goal. And there's even more we can do - we've been freed, remember? What about some personal things that we've been called to change in our own lives? What about the gifts we've been given that we can share with those around us? We don't have to be afraid, we can choose to walk in the new way.
From the last hymn, Lord, you give the great commission:
Lord, you show us love's true measure:
"Father, what they do, forgive."
Yet we hoard as private treasure
all that you so freely give.
May your care and mercy lead us to a just society;
with the Spirit's gifts empower us for the work of ministry.
Maureen.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Thanksgiving - Sunday, October 9
A joyful thanksgiving to us all! I am so glad that we celebrate the harvest,that we celebrate the great abundance of living foods the Lord gifts us from the earth. Not only is it an opportunity to thank God for all that we have been given but also a keen reminder that it is from the earth, from farms and those who work them, that we are kept fed and healthy. Thanks be to God, and thanks also to those who dedicate their living and working to harvesting food.
The hymn we sang immediately before the sermon made me pause, particularly the final verses:
The hymn we sang immediately before the sermon made me pause, particularly the final verses:
Give thanks, my soul, for richesI, like so many other people, have been following the current protest on Wall St. which has spurred protests in other cities as well. Talk has begun that Ottawa may soon see a similar protest in our downtown. While the sentiments and goals of those occupying Wall St. and elsewhere may be varied or even disorganized, the voice of dissatisfaction and discontent is clear. Many people are not happy with the way things are. As the we sang in the hymn, we are called as stewards to share the bounty of this world. Policy prescriptions aside, the crowds massing in cities across the continent suggests that we are failing to do so: something is very wrong.
of wood land, mine and hill
but know that gold and timber
are the Creator's still.
God lends to us, as stewards,
abundance we might share,
and thus provide earth's children
the blessing of God's care.
Give thanks, my soul, for labours,
that strength and days employ;
but know the Maker's purpose
brings toil as well as joy.
Show forth, O God, your purpose;
direct our will and hand,
to share your love and bounty,
with all in every land.
It leads me to wonder what we, as Christians can do to better fulfill our role as stewards. Are we playing things too safe, fearing that we will offend? Jesus was very clear with His disciples that the world would not always be kind or accepting to them. As Andrew noted this morning, Jesus was very honest and forthright about the cost that came with choosing The Way. In John 15 He said "I have chosen you out of the world—therefore the world hates you." Drawing the ire of the rest of the world has little appeal, but I find myself considering more and more if that is precisely what Jesus needs us to do in these days.
And then today we find ourselves at a time we have appointed for the specific purpose of celebrating and giving thanks for the bounty of another harvest. Andrew made the point this morning that our emotions can follow our actions: it need not always be the other way around. We live love and thus we feel love. We live thanksgiving and so we feel thanksgiving. In a time in which there is so much focus on what people lack, in a time of recession and war and discord, such a prescription seems more apt than ever. We need to live and embody thanksgiving. We need to reach out in the spirit of gratitude and generosity to remind not only those we encounter, but ourselves as well, that God is indeed gracious and we are truly, very blessed.
And then today we find ourselves at a time we have appointed for the specific purpose of celebrating and giving thanks for the bounty of another harvest. Andrew made the point this morning that our emotions can follow our actions: it need not always be the other way around. We live love and thus we feel love. We live thanksgiving and so we feel thanksgiving. In a time in which there is so much focus on what people lack, in a time of recession and war and discord, such a prescription seems more apt than ever. We need to live and embody thanksgiving. We need to reach out in the spirit of gratitude and generosity to remind not only those we encounter, but ourselves as well, that God is indeed gracious and we are truly, very blessed.
Darlene
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Sunday, October 2
As we celebrate the sacrament of the Lord ’s Supper today, it seems appropriate to pause to consider the idea of intentionality.
Micah’s minute for stewardship this morning at the 9:30 service started me thinking of this. His story about intentionally making a commitment and then accepting the unintended opportunities to give more was a great reminder that on commitment Sunday, we are making a minimum contribution of our time, money, talents and energy; but there is no rule against increasing them.
Our continuing study of the Gospel of St. Mark continued the theme of intentionality – Jesus made a choice to eat publicly with those who needed His presence the most. I found Andrew’s sermon on this story very challenging. Jesus was “eating publicly with the fallen” and if we are to live like Christ, then how do we do this in our daily lives? How often do our judgements create barriers that prevent us from a fuller embrace of our fuller society?
I know that it is far easier for me to look the other way or cross the street when presented with people who may or may not pose a perceived threat. It is easier to mail in a donation to the Mission or the Shepherds than it is to devote the time and the energy to work with these organisations. Perhaps this is the larger unintended contribution that Micah spoke about, or the ‘wilting from comfort” that Andrew mentioned in his prayer. If grace invites us all to share at the Lord’s Table, then our obligation is to invite others to share from our table.
Geoffrey
Micah’s minute for stewardship this morning at the 9:30 service started me thinking of this. His story about intentionally making a commitment and then accepting the unintended opportunities to give more was a great reminder that on commitment Sunday, we are making a minimum contribution of our time, money, talents and energy; but there is no rule against increasing them.
Our continuing study of the Gospel of St. Mark continued the theme of intentionality – Jesus made a choice to eat publicly with those who needed His presence the most. I found Andrew’s sermon on this story very challenging. Jesus was “eating publicly with the fallen” and if we are to live like Christ, then how do we do this in our daily lives? How often do our judgements create barriers that prevent us from a fuller embrace of our fuller society?
I know that it is far easier for me to look the other way or cross the street when presented with people who may or may not pose a perceived threat. It is easier to mail in a donation to the Mission or the Shepherds than it is to devote the time and the energy to work with these organisations. Perhaps this is the larger unintended contribution that Micah spoke about, or the ‘wilting from comfort” that Andrew mentioned in his prayer. If grace invites us all to share at the Lord’s Table, then our obligation is to invite others to share from our table.
Geoffrey
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Sunday, September 25
Today was a beautiful day!
Bright sunlight and warm wind filled the church and, as it often seems to at this time of year, light cast rainbow-coloured shadows on the pillars in the sanctuary. Looking at their colours made me think, as Andrew talked about the many years during which St. Andrews has been a church in the same place as the city has grown around it, about how the shadows have, do and will fall the same way each fall, and that the rainbows will most likely to appear each anniversary Sunday. Regardless of the advance of time, the season will bring the same direction of light. Coming to church this morning, after opening our daughter's birthday presents (because St. Andrew's birthday is her birthday too!) and watching the police memorial parade, especially when listening to Andrew talk to the children about lost gifts, lead me to reflect upon all of the imperfect and heartfelt contributions of those who have acted for the common good.
Ottawa's police, to whom I waved today, and to whom I feel a great deal of gratitude, are in a lot of trouble right now for a series of ostensibly unrelated assaults and misconduct allegations. These allegations speak to systemic problems. As a one time defence lawyer, I am both grateful to and wary of police. I am deeply ambivalent about the militaristic pomp of the police memorial. Thinking about my daughter's birthday made me wonder what my parents gave me on my seventh birthday: I don't remember. I have ambivalence about that too, thinking that everything I have done for my children, my parents worked hard to do for me. Hundreds of years of church history at St. Andrews are a legacy for which I feel deep gratitude, and with which I feel somewhat disconnected, being a relative newcomer to this city with no roots in Ottawa, with all of the family names celebrated on the church windows and walls that belong to another time also being unfamiliar to me.
It is a lot of things pulled together, like the wind rushing into the sanctuary when the doors opened after the service, like the rainbow patterns on the walls, a swirling of many things, and greatest among them for me today gratitude. I am grateful that others built this church: grateful that my family has been welcomed into St. Andrews' church family and hopeful we can for many years become part of its history. I am grateful for the contributions of the police to my safety and that of others. I am grateful for my own family. In the paradoxical way that it is possible, I am grateful for lost and forgotten gifts. They may be gone but a legacy is left by the intentions of justice, love and peace in their giving.
Rebecca.
Bright sunlight and warm wind filled the church and, as it often seems to at this time of year, light cast rainbow-coloured shadows on the pillars in the sanctuary. Looking at their colours made me think, as Andrew talked about the many years during which St. Andrews has been a church in the same place as the city has grown around it, about how the shadows have, do and will fall the same way each fall, and that the rainbows will most likely to appear each anniversary Sunday. Regardless of the advance of time, the season will bring the same direction of light. Coming to church this morning, after opening our daughter's birthday presents (because St. Andrew's birthday is her birthday too!) and watching the police memorial parade, especially when listening to Andrew talk to the children about lost gifts, lead me to reflect upon all of the imperfect and heartfelt contributions of those who have acted for the common good.
Ottawa's police, to whom I waved today, and to whom I feel a great deal of gratitude, are in a lot of trouble right now for a series of ostensibly unrelated assaults and misconduct allegations. These allegations speak to systemic problems. As a one time defence lawyer, I am both grateful to and wary of police. I am deeply ambivalent about the militaristic pomp of the police memorial. Thinking about my daughter's birthday made me wonder what my parents gave me on my seventh birthday: I don't remember. I have ambivalence about that too, thinking that everything I have done for my children, my parents worked hard to do for me. Hundreds of years of church history at St. Andrews are a legacy for which I feel deep gratitude, and with which I feel somewhat disconnected, being a relative newcomer to this city with no roots in Ottawa, with all of the family names celebrated on the church windows and walls that belong to another time also being unfamiliar to me.
It is a lot of things pulled together, like the wind rushing into the sanctuary when the doors opened after the service, like the rainbow patterns on the walls, a swirling of many things, and greatest among them for me today gratitude. I am grateful that others built this church: grateful that my family has been welcomed into St. Andrews' church family and hopeful we can for many years become part of its history. I am grateful for the contributions of the police to my safety and that of others. I am grateful for my own family. In the paradoxical way that it is possible, I am grateful for lost and forgotten gifts. They may be gone but a legacy is left by the intentions of justice, love and peace in their giving.
Rebecca.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Sunday, September 18
Today's passage from the gospel according to Mark described the beginning of Jesus' ministry in Galilee. Calling Simon, Andrew, James and John to follow Him, they obey immediately and follow Him. In his sermon, our Andrew talked about Bonhoeffer's interpretation of this passage as an example of the absolute authority of Jesus Christ. Because it is Jesus who calls them, the first four disciples obey and follow without question, without reason. Andrew went on to talk about how our faith follows our obedience. We obey and follow not because we have faith, but have faith because we have obeyed Jesus' call. He also noted that our call is not personal but corporate: Jesus Christ calls us all, all humankind, to put down our nets and follow Him.
This seemed the perfect passage for the beginning of the Sunday School season. The gathering of children to hear the good news and learn how we, as Christians, are called to live, but also because our children do not take themselves to church: they are brought. Before they are old enough to understand why, we teach them the truth of Jesus Christ. They learn of our collective devotion to God and His devotion to us long before they can begin to understand what such devotion means.
As I was contemplating the message in today's sermon this morning, I wondered: where does love fit in? If we obey God's call first and then understand what that means and develop our faith afterward, when do we apprehend the love of God? If we follow because we perceive the power and authority of Jesus Christ, when do we perceive His love and His faithfulness? As I sit writing this post, however, I'm struck by the thought that perhaps God's might is made manifest, in part, in His love. Is it in His love that God's authority declares itself? Admittedly, my personal bias and lens is that of a parent and mother, but I see a similarity in my relationship with my children - one founded on love but also authority - and the manner in which Andrew described our collective response to Christ's call.
People often talk of wishing to have "the faith of a child". Obedience without understanding. Following without questioning. Believing without reasoning. We are called to emulate this, to cast down our nets, our preconceptions, our goals and priorities and follow Jesus, not for some wise or clever reason, but simply because He is LORD.
- Darlene
This seemed the perfect passage for the beginning of the Sunday School season. The gathering of children to hear the good news and learn how we, as Christians, are called to live, but also because our children do not take themselves to church: they are brought. Before they are old enough to understand why, we teach them the truth of Jesus Christ. They learn of our collective devotion to God and His devotion to us long before they can begin to understand what such devotion means.
As I was contemplating the message in today's sermon this morning, I wondered: where does love fit in? If we obey God's call first and then understand what that means and develop our faith afterward, when do we apprehend the love of God? If we follow because we perceive the power and authority of Jesus Christ, when do we perceive His love and His faithfulness? As I sit writing this post, however, I'm struck by the thought that perhaps God's might is made manifest, in part, in His love. Is it in His love that God's authority declares itself? Admittedly, my personal bias and lens is that of a parent and mother, but I see a similarity in my relationship with my children - one founded on love but also authority - and the manner in which Andrew described our collective response to Christ's call.
People often talk of wishing to have "the faith of a child". Obedience without understanding. Following without questioning. Believing without reasoning. We are called to emulate this, to cast down our nets, our preconceptions, our goals and priorities and follow Jesus, not for some wise or clever reason, but simply because He is LORD.
- Darlene
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Sunday, September 11
This morning, I'd walked into the church emotionally charged. The anniversary of 9/11, little Kienan was returned to his family, stuff going on at home... I'd packed extra kleenex and prepared myself for more emotions.
But it was the musical approach that drew my mind to where it was supposed to be:
It reminded me that that's what is important. Our macro-vision is not the whole story, and I may not understand why things happen, but I can "Follow thee more nearly" every day.
I'm looking forward to continuing on as Andrew teaches through the Gospel of Mark. The beautiful autumn morning, the celebration of baptism, (and enjoying the soft baby noises during the service), the whole worship service made me ready for a fresh, new beginning. Especially with news so important as this: Jesus the Christ has come to humankind.
What about you, what did you bring home from church this Sunday? What spoke to you?
But it was the musical approach that drew my mind to where it was supposed to be:
Day by day, Dear Lord, of thee three things I pray:
To see thee more clearly,
Love thee more dearly,
Follow thee more nearly,
Day by day.
(St. Richard of Chichester)
It reminded me that that's what is important. Our macro-vision is not the whole story, and I may not understand why things happen, but I can "Follow thee more nearly" every day.
I'm looking forward to continuing on as Andrew teaches through the Gospel of Mark. The beautiful autumn morning, the celebration of baptism, (and enjoying the soft baby noises during the service), the whole worship service made me ready for a fresh, new beginning. Especially with news so important as this: Jesus the Christ has come to humankind.
What about you, what did you bring home from church this Sunday? What spoke to you?
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Summer Break
The Sunday Lunch blog will be on hiatus until the fall. We'll be working on our spiffy new look over the summer, but in the meanwhile the links in the right-hand sidebar are still active and the St. Andrew's Ottawa website is always updated.
Church services in July and August are at 10:00 a.m. on Sundays, and we'll see you back here on the blog after Labour Day.
Church services in July and August are at 10:00 a.m. on Sundays, and we'll see you back here on the blog after Labour Day.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Easter Sunday, April 24
We are an Easter People!
Easter is my very favourite Sunday of the year. I look forward to the music and the celebration - this is what being a Christian is all about. This morning's service was wonderful, it was certainly good to be in the house of the Lord. But what made this morning special for me was the emphasis on being a part of the global family of Christ followers. When our first hymn was Jesus Christ is risen today, I wondered how many people were singing that same hymn in churches across the country at that moment.
Then Andrew's story for the children reminded me that Easter is celebrated not just in my country, but everywhere there are Christians. And to hear Christ is Risen in all those languages was very moving. Easter morning is not just about me and my personal celebration, it's about all of us as a community, celebrating the resurrection together. In all the languages and in so many of this morning's songs, Alleluia was the word that brought us all together.
Christ is risen, he is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Easter is my very favourite Sunday of the year. I look forward to the music and the celebration - this is what being a Christian is all about. This morning's service was wonderful, it was certainly good to be in the house of the Lord. But what made this morning special for me was the emphasis on being a part of the global family of Christ followers. When our first hymn was Jesus Christ is risen today, I wondered how many people were singing that same hymn in churches across the country at that moment.
Then Andrew's story for the children reminded me that Easter is celebrated not just in my country, but everywhere there are Christians. And to hear Christ is Risen in all those languages was very moving. Easter morning is not just about me and my personal celebration, it's about all of us as a community, celebrating the resurrection together. In all the languages and in so many of this morning's songs, Alleluia was the word that brought us all together.
Christ is risen, he is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Sunday, April 17
Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth and the life.”
These words are familiar to every Christian. They’re an encouragement. A call to action. An exhortation. With this short sentence, Jesus says much more: “Don’t be afraid. Trust me. Follow me and I’ll show you the way.”
Everyone knows what happened next. As Andrew reminded us this morning, Jesus turned words into decisive action. He chose to sacrifice himself to defeat darkness, violence and doubt. He chose to affirm the power of life and point to what is beautiful, enduring and right.
This is, of course, a wonderful story. But how do we learn from it? How is it relevant to us? How can we use it? What are the practical applications?
Thankfully, our minister has plenty of ideas. We were encouraged by the timely examples Andrew offered this morning:
It’s always inspiring to learn about what the words and actions of Jesus can teach us. It’s even better to have great examples of how we can apply these lessons – and honour God – in our daily lives.
These words are familiar to every Christian. They’re an encouragement. A call to action. An exhortation. With this short sentence, Jesus says much more: “Don’t be afraid. Trust me. Follow me and I’ll show you the way.”
Everyone knows what happened next. As Andrew reminded us this morning, Jesus turned words into decisive action. He chose to sacrifice himself to defeat darkness, violence and doubt. He chose to affirm the power of life and point to what is beautiful, enduring and right.
This is, of course, a wonderful story. But how do we learn from it? How is it relevant to us? How can we use it? What are the practical applications?
Thankfully, our minister has plenty of ideas. We were encouraged by the timely examples Andrew offered this morning:
- The Rev. Dr. Arthur Currie, who has given the gift of himself during the 50 years since his call to St. Andrew’s
- The federal election, a chance to choose engagement over apathy and trust in justice, peace and joy
- Earth Day, a chance to honour God by valuing, respecting and preserving the Earth and all that fills it
- The Multifaith Housing Initiative’s Tulipathon, a chance to walk with people of all faiths to provide affordable housing for low-income households in Ottawa
It’s always inspiring to learn about what the words and actions of Jesus can teach us. It’s even better to have great examples of how we can apply these lessons – and honour God – in our daily lives.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Sunday, April 10
I really liked the emphasis in the sermon this morning on abiding in Christ - on making Christ the thing around which we define ourselves. Putting Christ at the centre gives us strength and assurance. Christ is always with us, and because we are able to depend on him, we are able to live fully and to grow abundantly.
I also appreciated the connection Andrew made with the question put to those who joined the church today - will you make diligent use of the means of grace? It is up to God to speak, but, by defining ourselves around Christ and putting him at the centre, we give God opportunity through worship, reading and prayer.
On my run before church this morning, a song came on my iPod that has a wonderful line in it - "Every day, I wake up. I choose love. I choose light." Very inspirational and invigorating! I thought of that line during the sermon – while it seems pretty individualistic, I think that it could be seen as an affirmation of the choice we have made to put Christ at the centre. If every day we can wake up and choose to define ourselves around God's love and light, we will bear much fruit and our joy will be made full. :)
Laura
I also appreciated the connection Andrew made with the question put to those who joined the church today - will you make diligent use of the means of grace? It is up to God to speak, but, by defining ourselves around Christ and putting him at the centre, we give God opportunity through worship, reading and prayer.
On my run before church this morning, a song came on my iPod that has a wonderful line in it - "Every day, I wake up. I choose love. I choose light." Very inspirational and invigorating! I thought of that line during the sermon – while it seems pretty individualistic, I think that it could be seen as an affirmation of the choice we have made to put Christ at the centre. If every day we can wake up and choose to define ourselves around God's love and light, we will bear much fruit and our joy will be made full. :)
Laura
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Sunday, April 3
In reflecting on today's sermon, "The Good Shepherd", on the 23rd Psalm and on the 100th birthday of Ann Crain, my mind turned to leadership. Shepherds, at least in Palestine, lead by example, as Andrew said. On this morning with the first breath of spring in the air, I was touched by the truly exceptional and quite beautiful ways members of our church community lead. Maureen shines with unselfish loyalty to a friend by donating a kidney - giving of her self quite literally in the service of life. Schoolgirls read bible verses in calm, clear voices. Ann Crain reads the 23rd Psalm with a strong, lovely voice that has resonated for 100 years, providing a shining example of a good life. Beautiful music flows through the sanctuary, with a soprano solo so compelling as to actually quiet my children, which is no small feat. Andrew speaks with patience and tact and conviction, leading us to read interesting books, see interesting movies and contemplate how best to follow the path of Christ. In this time of election when people in the political sphere posture, mock and shove for a chance to lead us, it is refreshing indeed to see the more subtle ways in which positive examples of leadership surround us.
Rebecca
Rebecca
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Sunday, March 27
Today's service certainly gave me much to think about.
The invitation to leave tradition and institutional comfort at bay was a difficult challenge, as these values are dear to me. Reconsidering them, though, is always a useful exercise. Perhaps the sermon's title "I am the bread of life" can provide strength in this exercise.
As Rev. Johnston described the boomers, Gen X (that's me), and the echo generation, I was thinking about how I could relate to values usually ascribed to each. But the challenge to rethink how we express our faith and to focus on the personal experience of faith is not at all easy. For me, coming to a life of faith indeed started with the monument and tradition of the church, and I must say that I find it difficult to express personal experiences of faith. It is far easier to read scripture, hear music, see art and architecture, rather than relate the powerful peace that can come in silent prayer.
As Rev. Johnston described Jesus as a bridge between us and God, perhaps traditions and institutions have been another kind of bridge for me, and that personal experience is just another lane on the same bridge.
Geoffrey
The invitation to leave tradition and institutional comfort at bay was a difficult challenge, as these values are dear to me. Reconsidering them, though, is always a useful exercise. Perhaps the sermon's title "I am the bread of life" can provide strength in this exercise.
As Rev. Johnston described the boomers, Gen X (that's me), and the echo generation, I was thinking about how I could relate to values usually ascribed to each. But the challenge to rethink how we express our faith and to focus on the personal experience of faith is not at all easy. For me, coming to a life of faith indeed started with the monument and tradition of the church, and I must say that I find it difficult to express personal experiences of faith. It is far easier to read scripture, hear music, see art and architecture, rather than relate the powerful peace that can come in silent prayer.
As Rev. Johnston described Jesus as a bridge between us and God, perhaps traditions and institutions have been another kind of bridge for me, and that personal experience is just another lane on the same bridge.
Geoffrey
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Sunday, March 20
Walls. When it comes to sheep, that is one part of all that is required for protection. The other, of course, is a gate. Or, as today's scriptures make abundantly clear, a Shepherd's presence in lieu of a gate - a solitary protector lying in the gap, ensuring all remains well through the darkness of the night.
I can't help but focus on the walls. Walls can seem so nondescript when we pass them by from the outside, invoking little to no emotion as we go along our merry, busy ways. Yet, figuratively and literally, they can speak a great deal of both hope and joy. For the prisoner, they speak of the hope of redemption, and of liberty. For the flock, they speak of the joy of protection, of safely belonging and flourishing.
For the redeemed, for God's flock, to reside within the walls of the church, and of faith, and of fellowship, having entered through Christ, is to experience a communal joy for which we must never neglect to express gratitude. Beyond that joy, we are called to heed the voice of our Shepherd, and head back into pasture, into the world, into a place with sweet grass as well as hidden dangers. Beyond that joy, we are called to trust in the voice of He who is the author of our faith, our reason for safety in a place without walls. Beyond that joy, we bear a responsibility to constantly listen, filtering out the clamouring, mundane noises, so that we may hear the voice of the One intent on leading us through pasture, right back to the joy within the walls, right back to the place where He keeps watch.
Through it all, what is clear is our Shepherd's unflinching attentiveness. Our Shepherd is the king of love, imagine that!
"All glory to our Lord and God for love so deep, so high, so broad, the Trinity whom we adore forever and forevermore."
I can't help but focus on the walls. Walls can seem so nondescript when we pass them by from the outside, invoking little to no emotion as we go along our merry, busy ways. Yet, figuratively and literally, they can speak a great deal of both hope and joy. For the prisoner, they speak of the hope of redemption, and of liberty. For the flock, they speak of the joy of protection, of safely belonging and flourishing.
For the redeemed, for God's flock, to reside within the walls of the church, and of faith, and of fellowship, having entered through Christ, is to experience a communal joy for which we must never neglect to express gratitude. Beyond that joy, we are called to heed the voice of our Shepherd, and head back into pasture, into the world, into a place with sweet grass as well as hidden dangers. Beyond that joy, we are called to trust in the voice of He who is the author of our faith, our reason for safety in a place without walls. Beyond that joy, we bear a responsibility to constantly listen, filtering out the clamouring, mundane noises, so that we may hear the voice of the One intent on leading us through pasture, right back to the joy within the walls, right back to the place where He keeps watch.
Through it all, what is clear is our Shepherd's unflinching attentiveness. Our Shepherd is the king of love, imagine that!
"All glory to our Lord and God for love so deep, so high, so broad, the Trinity whom we adore forever and forevermore."
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Sunday, March 13
Lent is my favourite season of the liturgical calendar. It appeals to my reflective nature, I think. This morning, the first Sunday in Lent, Andrew reminded us that it's a time we use to acknowledge our lostness, fears and futility, but it's a time full of promise for the light in the darkness.
In reflecting on Jesus as the Light of the World, (John 8:12) we saw Jesus as an inviting candle, not a bright, glaring spotlight. The image that stays in my mind is that of a candle on a table in a dark room, and how a room lit by a candle looks so different. The candle brings out the nooks and crannies of a room, making it seem much more alive in the flickering light. In the same way, Jesus sees our lives differently: not seeing our achievements or status, instead seeing us a beloved child of God.
The Sunday service was full of images this morning, was there an image that stood out in your mind?
In reflecting on Jesus as the Light of the World, (John 8:12) we saw Jesus as an inviting candle, not a bright, glaring spotlight. The image that stays in my mind is that of a candle on a table in a dark room, and how a room lit by a candle looks so different. The candle brings out the nooks and crannies of a room, making it seem much more alive in the flickering light. In the same way, Jesus sees our lives differently: not seeing our achievements or status, instead seeing us a beloved child of God.
The Sunday service was full of images this morning, was there an image that stood out in your mind?
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Sunday, March 6
Who Am I?
The Transfiguration
Two themes emerged for me during week's message. The first was Jesus being the lens through which we interpret the bible. Andrew felt that God was telling those assembled to listen to Jesus - and Jesus above all. This is echoed by the Great Prayer of Thanksgiving:
"Through Christ, with Christ, in Christ,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
all glory and honour are yours, almighty God,
for ever and ever"
The other twist on the scripture reading for me was Peter's reaction to the transfiguration. I thought Peter's offer to build a house was odd - why make such a mundane suggestion at such a spiritual moment? I understand now that Peter wanted to capture the magic for himself and enshrine it in a human dwelling.
However, even Jesus put aside the illuminating Presence and descended the mountain as a man. We can't dwell within those mountaintop experiences indefinitely, but they can inspire and sustain us in our daily lives of service.
Eileen Dent
The Transfiguration
Two themes emerged for me during week's message. The first was Jesus being the lens through which we interpret the bible. Andrew felt that God was telling those assembled to listen to Jesus - and Jesus above all. This is echoed by the Great Prayer of Thanksgiving:
"Through Christ, with Christ, in Christ,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
all glory and honour are yours, almighty God,
for ever and ever"
The other twist on the scripture reading for me was Peter's reaction to the transfiguration. I thought Peter's offer to build a house was odd - why make such a mundane suggestion at such a spiritual moment? I understand now that Peter wanted to capture the magic for himself and enshrine it in a human dwelling.
However, even Jesus put aside the illuminating Presence and descended the mountain as a man. We can't dwell within those mountaintop experiences indefinitely, but they can inspire and sustain us in our daily lives of service.
Eileen Dent
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Sunday, February 27
I found two messages conveyed by Andrew in today's sermon to be especially meaningful for me. I have always found the concept of the devil to be unclear and confusing, but Andrew's choice to include the story of the devil tempting the man in the form of the angel Gabriel helped illustrate to me that humility can be a way of dealing with evil influences. The other message conveyed by Andrew in his sermon that I found especially helpful was that God is always nearby and is there to persevere right along with us (book of Ephesians).
These two messages will prove inspiring for me in the week ahead.
By Stacey Huber
These two messages will prove inspiring for me in the week ahead.
By Stacey Huber
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Sunday, February 20
A few weeks ago, our voice in the desert talked about gentle water gradually wearing down the rock. I found such comfort in that image and couldn't get it out of my mind. Then this morning we read Ezekiel 37, about the dry bones coming to life, and 1 Corinthians 12, all the different gifts within the body of believers.
That image of the water droplets was so calm, so gradual, so passive. This morning there was sudden, dramatic action! There were responsibilities to fulfill; there was a tangle of bones and of people. It was so important for me to hear how it's not just God working (slowly) on me as an individual. It's also how together we are working to help each other, using our individual gifts in community, that allows us to grow in our relationship with God.
Maureen.
That image of the water droplets was so calm, so gradual, so passive. This morning there was sudden, dramatic action! There were responsibilities to fulfill; there was a tangle of bones and of people. It was so important for me to hear how it's not just God working (slowly) on me as an individual. It's also how together we are working to help each other, using our individual gifts in community, that allows us to grow in our relationship with God.
Maureen.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
PWS&D Sunday
“The task ahead of us is never as mighty as the power behind us.” This reminder came near the close of today’s sermon from Barb Summers on Presbyterian World Service and Development Sunday.
I should have paid closer attention to the title of her talk – “The Other Half of the Story” – as she started out with many statistics attesting to the brokenness of our world, I thought, “Oh dear, another depressing newspaper talk.” But no, the other half of the story is the positive news about PWS&D’s work in the world.
Barb spoke eloquently and inspirationally about her work and PWS&D’s successes. She personalised the line item on our donation envelopes with a couple of examples that she has witnessed: a Pakistani woman enabled to feed her children and to participate in the productivity of her village, women in India celebrating their collective potential and influence.
“The task ahead of us is never as mighty as the power behind us.” A thought for us all to reflect upon in our lives, and something that makes me more curious to learn more about PWS&D’s work in the world.
-Geoffrey
UPDATE: Barb Summers' sermon can be heard here: The Other Half of the Story
I should have paid closer attention to the title of her talk – “The Other Half of the Story” – as she started out with many statistics attesting to the brokenness of our world, I thought, “Oh dear, another depressing newspaper talk.” But no, the other half of the story is the positive news about PWS&D’s work in the world.
Barb spoke eloquently and inspirationally about her work and PWS&D’s successes. She personalised the line item on our donation envelopes with a couple of examples that she has witnessed: a Pakistani woman enabled to feed her children and to participate in the productivity of her village, women in India celebrating their collective potential and influence.
“The task ahead of us is never as mighty as the power behind us.” A thought for us all to reflect upon in our lives, and something that makes me more curious to learn more about PWS&D’s work in the world.
-Geoffrey
UPDATE: Barb Summers' sermon can be heard here: The Other Half of the Story
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Sunday, February 6
Last Sunday our worship service was especially moving. Psalm 19, and of course Isaiah, are powerful poetry that I wait for, and one of the pleasures of the 9:30 AM service is to hear the readings in Andrew Johnston's trained and intelligent voice. We can listen fearlessly, confident that he will make sense of Paul's most convoluted reasonings, while never, never barking his vocal cards on a nasty bit of protruding syntax.
The sermon began, like many newspaper articles at this time of year, with reference to fitness--spiritual fitness, though, and the daily exercises required for it. One of these is listening, and I thought about the different feeling that I get from the words "listening" and "hearing." "Listening" seems to be about focus and attention consciously directed outside the self. "Hearing" has a sense of allowing words to enter into body and mind, where over time they may be transformative. That, in fact, was the message.
A moderate among the 4th-Century desert fathers (mothers too, Andrew said, but did anyone save the fragments the women left behind?), Abba Poemen spoke about the way hard stone yields over time to yielding drops of water, which wear it away, as the tender Word of God, heard again and again, softens our stony hearts. Andrew reminded us that the Christian Bible is not itself the Word of God, as my Presbyterian grandfather would have it, but a witness to the Word who is Christ.
The desert Christians broke free from the comforts of an official and acknowledged religion. While they came together for worship, they found their own ways to God, hearing his voice in the silence. We need to find spaces in our noisy lives to listen for the whispers of God and courage to be led where perhaps the church has not yet been brave enough to go.
After the service I found a corner where I could drink my coffee in calmness and joy. Now to keep that feeling for the rest of the week!
The sermon began, like many newspaper articles at this time of year, with reference to fitness--spiritual fitness, though, and the daily exercises required for it. One of these is listening, and I thought about the different feeling that I get from the words "listening" and "hearing." "Listening" seems to be about focus and attention consciously directed outside the self. "Hearing" has a sense of allowing words to enter into body and mind, where over time they may be transformative. That, in fact, was the message.
A moderate among the 4th-Century desert fathers (mothers too, Andrew said, but did anyone save the fragments the women left behind?), Abba Poemen spoke about the way hard stone yields over time to yielding drops of water, which wear it away, as the tender Word of God, heard again and again, softens our stony hearts. Andrew reminded us that the Christian Bible is not itself the Word of God, as my Presbyterian grandfather would have it, but a witness to the Word who is Christ.
The desert Christians broke free from the comforts of an official and acknowledged religion. While they came together for worship, they found their own ways to God, hearing his voice in the silence. We need to find spaces in our noisy lives to listen for the whispers of God and courage to be led where perhaps the church has not yet been brave enough to go.
After the service I found a corner where I could drink my coffee in calmness and joy. Now to keep that feeling for the rest of the week!
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Common Ground
This morning we welcomed the Rev. Ann Salmon to the pulpit to celebrate the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. Rev. Salmon is the minister of the Church of the Good Shepherd in Barrhaven, which is the first joint Anglican/Lutheran church in Canada. These denominations have been in prayerful discussion for a number of years about a new covenant relationship and this new congregation is the fruit of that effort.
Rev. Salmon's 'state of the union' message is one that we need to hear often: the church, in its widest sense, needs to be the common ground on which we worship our Creator, learn of our Redeemer and listen for the Spirit. And yet the church today, as an institution, is a fragmented, imperfect vessel which tends to get bogged down in details and, on occasion, misses the point. Her call to be vigilant against this was not so much a criticism of the past but a call to the present and future to re-direct and re-commission ourselves to serve others. What are your thoughts on the state of the church? What would it take for the church to be more unified? What would be the result?
Rev. Salmon's 'state of the union' message is one that we need to hear often: the church, in its widest sense, needs to be the common ground on which we worship our Creator, learn of our Redeemer and listen for the Spirit. And yet the church today, as an institution, is a fragmented, imperfect vessel which tends to get bogged down in details and, on occasion, misses the point. Her call to be vigilant against this was not so much a criticism of the past but a call to the present and future to re-direct and re-commission ourselves to serve others. What are your thoughts on the state of the church? What would it take for the church to be more unified? What would be the result?
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Sunday, January 16
Andrew's sermon today about incarnation was particularly interesting since, as he noted, this is an aspect of Biblical doctrine that is often substantively unexplored and, as he noted, addressed in a formalistic way.
A significant phrase for me in what Andrew said this morning was stated not in the sermon itself but in the prayer that preceded it. He talked about "continuous creation." The idea that incarnation continues in our lives is closely related to possibilities of reading the Bible not just as historical narrative but simultaneously also as allegory: the Child is perennial reborn and God incarnate is always with us. Something else that really resonated with me was the notion that spiritual growth, growing more fully into perfect freedom by following God's way is a gradual journey. When I was doing prison Ministry in Ohio's jails, I had an opportunity one Sunday to speak with a quiet, sensitive and intelligent young African American man who had clearly been led by poverty into a life of economic dependence on the drug trade. He was perplexed and saddened because he wanted to have faith but had not had a dramatic spiritual experience or "prison conversion" as he would have hoped for or expected on the basis of the variant on Christianity he had been taught in his upbringing. We had been talking about St. Paul on the road to Damascus, and this man was hoping for the scales to fall from his eyes and to see clearly. We talked about how maybe that doesn't happen all at once for most people, that revelations can be partial, as Andrew said: "surprises", experiences of God in the personal and in mundane places, like a walk in the forest, a garden, or even a prison.
I also really appreciated the suggestion that perhaps those who claim not to believe in God have not had the nature of God explained appropriately. This idea sheds new light on the hyperbolic debates of folks like Christopher Hitchens and those who mirror him in Evangelical circles. Failure to define terms broadly or sensitively enough leads to foolish debate. Or criticism of Christianity by some as patriarchal when the key element of Christ's incarnation rests itself on a moment that disrupts patriliny completely: Joseph embraces Jesus as his son despite the fact that he is not the biological father. Or the debates between creationist and evolutionist "scientists", which rest on a failure of imagination to appreciate that continuous creation can include the processes of science.
... which makes me think of a country song:
"His fingerprints are everywhere
I'd just slow down to stop and stare
opened my eyes and man I swear
I saw God today."
-George Strait
Rebecca B.
A significant phrase for me in what Andrew said this morning was stated not in the sermon itself but in the prayer that preceded it. He talked about "continuous creation." The idea that incarnation continues in our lives is closely related to possibilities of reading the Bible not just as historical narrative but simultaneously also as allegory: the Child is perennial reborn and God incarnate is always with us. Something else that really resonated with me was the notion that spiritual growth, growing more fully into perfect freedom by following God's way is a gradual journey. When I was doing prison Ministry in Ohio's jails, I had an opportunity one Sunday to speak with a quiet, sensitive and intelligent young African American man who had clearly been led by poverty into a life of economic dependence on the drug trade. He was perplexed and saddened because he wanted to have faith but had not had a dramatic spiritual experience or "prison conversion" as he would have hoped for or expected on the basis of the variant on Christianity he had been taught in his upbringing. We had been talking about St. Paul on the road to Damascus, and this man was hoping for the scales to fall from his eyes and to see clearly. We talked about how maybe that doesn't happen all at once for most people, that revelations can be partial, as Andrew said: "surprises", experiences of God in the personal and in mundane places, like a walk in the forest, a garden, or even a prison.
I also really appreciated the suggestion that perhaps those who claim not to believe in God have not had the nature of God explained appropriately. This idea sheds new light on the hyperbolic debates of folks like Christopher Hitchens and those who mirror him in Evangelical circles. Failure to define terms broadly or sensitively enough leads to foolish debate. Or criticism of Christianity by some as patriarchal when the key element of Christ's incarnation rests itself on a moment that disrupts patriliny completely: Joseph embraces Jesus as his son despite the fact that he is not the biological father. Or the debates between creationist and evolutionist "scientists", which rest on a failure of imagination to appreciate that continuous creation can include the processes of science.
... which makes me think of a country song:
"His fingerprints are everywhere
I'd just slow down to stop and stare
opened my eyes and man I swear
I saw God today."
-George Strait
Rebecca B.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Sunday, January 9
This morning I found myself thinking about kings. Not surprising, since it's Epiphany Sunday. We sang "We Three Kings," and Andrew explained the galette des rois to the children. One of our readings was about King Herod trying to protect his throne by finding the young Messiah. But what especially struck me this morning was how undeserving the child-king Jesus was of those gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. Perhaps because I've been feeling undeserving lately of all the gifts I've received, but it struck me that young Jesus hadn't done anything to merit the gifts he was brought. They were truly just "gifts."
Andrew's sermon seemed so relevant this morning. The wonder and awe, the mystery of the miraculous, that is what's it's all about. There are so many things that we don't understand with our mind, that we can only feel in our soul. I don't know why I've been blessed with so many good things: a happy home, health, God's great gift of condescension to mankind... But I do know I can accept them, and keep my eyes open to the wonder and awe of it all.
Maureen.
Andrew's sermon seemed so relevant this morning. The wonder and awe, the mystery of the miraculous, that is what's it's all about. There are so many things that we don't understand with our mind, that we can only feel in our soul. I don't know why I've been blessed with so many good things: a happy home, health, God's great gift of condescension to mankind... But I do know I can accept them, and keep my eyes open to the wonder and awe of it all.
Maureen.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Sunday, January 2
Our own Peter Rombeek was in the pulpit this week, click below to listen to his sermon, "Knock, Knock."
Sunday, January 2nd, 2011
Sunday, January 2nd, 2011
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