Joy to the World

Last Sunday was the third Sunday in Advent, also known as Gaudete Sunday. Gaudete is Latin for ‘rejoice’ and the third candle is the pink/rose coloured one (the other three are red).  But why pink?  One source I consulted notes, “Long ago the Pope would honor a citizen with a pink rose (or a rose rose?) Priests then would wear pink vestments as a reminder of this coming joy.”

I have, in the past, pondered the difference between joy and happiness and I don’t think I have a complete handle on the difference.  As far as I can determine, happiness is a reaction to specific events and joy is a state of being.  When we sing the carol “Joy to the World the Lord is come,” it means that we are declaring that the world is in a state of joy as the Prince of Peace is born.  However, he is not the Prince of Joy as that is the state we experience when peace reigns in the world. 

In any case. I have been, not surprisingly, encountering joy in many things I have read in the last few days.   The Advent reflection for December 17^th which I receive in my inbox notes that we have the anticipation of joy when we consider the birth of the Christ child:

As we move toward the manger, we sing with great gladness. The song is ancient, sung by the heavenly host and repeated by the shepherds as they traveled to see the Christ child. Glory to God in the highest. O come let us adore Him. The song carries the weight of the hope of believers through the ages. It is a song of expectation, of anticipation, of joy and wonder.

In another case, I was drawn to reading The Return of the Prodigal Son by Henri Nouwen which explores the painting by Rembrandt of the parable.  The painting came up in my session with my Spiritual Director.  Nouwen notes that the joy experienced on the return of the prodigal son was driven out by the resentment felt by the older brother:

But this shout of joy cannot be received.  Instead of relief and gratitude, the servant’s joy summons up the opposite: “He was angry then and refused to go in.”  Joy and resentment cannot coexist.  The music and dancing, instead of inviting joy, became a cause for even greater withdrawal. 

Nouwen notes that he had experienced a similar reaction as that of the older brother:

But my anger was so great at not being told about the party that I couldn’t stay.  All of my inner complaints about not being accepted, liked, and love surged up in me, and I left the room, slammed the door behind me.  I was completely incapacitated―unable to receive and participate in the joy that was there.  In an instance, the joy in that room had become a sense of resentment.

 So, other than giving up the comfortable feeling of resentment, how do we achieve joy?  One clue was in the prayers of the people on Sunday.  In the prayers we give thanks for many things; for being called to be the people of God, for the community of faith throughout the world, the privileged of ministering to others, and for the countless gifts of God we have received.  Giving thanks to God in all things. This will go a long way to experiencing joy. 

Nouwen notes that it can be a choice, “Every moment of each day I have the chance to choose between cynicism and joy.  Every thought I have can be cynical or joyful.  Every word I speak can be cynical or joyful.”  I believe that this is a great part of a joyful life.  However, in no way is it easy and should not be made to seem so.  I do not have a natural inclination to joy.  That is part of who I am.  I think many people are not naturally joyful and it does take a conscious effort to cultivate joy in one’s life.  Giving thanks to God in (not for but in) all things is the way to approach it, even if it doesn’t seem to come naturally to many of us.  Thanks be to God. 

Blessings on you journey and may your experience be one of joy. 

Achieving Disagreement

Last Sunday was the second Sunday of Advent.  We lit the candle for peace.  Perhaps this was done with a something of futility and perhaps despair.  As the carol says:

And in despair I bowed my head
There is no peace on earth I said
For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men

(I heard the Bells on Christmas Day)

I believe that we can be excused from falling into despair (the opposite of Hope which is the first Advent candle.  We have examples of totalitarian governments springing up in countries that are democracies. Perhaps springing up is the wrong word―infecting would be better.  The Brexit foolishness is slouching towards its inexorable uncertain conclusion.  Our American neighbours seem also to be inexorably split into two divides separated by an ever-widening chasm between red and blue.  Signs of peace seem to be few and far between even as we prepare for the birth of the Prince of Peace.

I was reading an article in the New York Times, After Bush, Obituary Wars, by Frank Bruni which addressed the reaction to the eulogizing of George H. W. Bush.  commentator on the left were scathing in their reaction to uncritical assessment of his life that was put forward by many.  As Bruni said, there was much to criticize in a man who “leaned on the despicable Willie Horton ad, who nominated Clarence Thomas to the Supreme Court, who did little in the face of AIDS.”  However, there was much to eulogize in a man who was basically a good and honourable man.  As the column noted, we have the need to see our villains without redemption and our heroes without blemish.  It is comfortable to see things in black and white.  We don’t have to make the effort to deal with the subtleties of the grays in the world.  Our prejudices are affirmed and confirmed. 

One way to address this was presented in an On Being program, The Future of Marriage https://onbeing.org/programs/david-blankenhorn-and-jonathan-rauch-the-future-of-marriage/ .  The program was a discussion by two men who have been on opposite side of the same-sex marriage debate.  It is not my desire to get into this mine field (at least at this time).  What I want to uphold is the approach that they used in discussing this rather fraught issue for different perspectives.  They proposed that what people would aim for when they are on opposite sides of an issue is “achieving disagreement”.   The goal is not to come to a point where both parties come to the same position.  Rather it is to understand and accept that people can have different positions which can still allow us to respect the other party.  As they note, “being right is not as important as making a pact with my fellow Americans on the other side so that we can live together.”

Living together perhaps does not seem like a high ideal to aim for, especially at this time of year.  However, if we can learn to live with one another and accept each other as human beings, worthy of respect we will have achieved a great deal.  From a Christian perspective it is seeing each other as Children of God and we can begin to strive for peace on earth and goodwill to all.

The carol does not end in despair.  Rather, it ends in hope; hope for peace on earth:

Then rang the bells more loud and deep
God is not dead, nor does he sleep
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men

Blessings on your journey.  

Is That All There Is?

Sunday was the first Sunday of Advent.  We lit the first Advent candle for Hope.  I am wondering this what exactly is hope?  Is it something that people hang on to when all else fails and there is no other option, or is it an ongoing way of being? 

In our funeral liturgy the Committal includes the reassurance, “in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life.”   So, to live in hope is to live ‘as if’.  We may not have absolute proof but we live in the faith that God is with us.

The opposite of hope is despair.  If we are in despair, we have given up hope that there is more to life than we are experiencing at present.  Does this mean that it is a life which is grinding you down physically, mentally, emotionally or spiritually?  It certainly can be any or all of those.  But it can also be a life which seems to have just doesn’t have any more meaning. 

What comes to mind is the is the song ‘Is That All There Is’ sung by the great Peggy Lee.  Listening to the song again on You Tube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LCRZZC-DH7M). This seems to be a song of despair.  The chorus suggests that life is without meaning and so embrace wine, women and song:

Is that all there is?
Is that all there is?
If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
If that's all there is

No, there is not much hope in that approach to life.  However, in the song the singer asks when her lover leaves her, “is that all there is to love?”   She poignantly suggests that she knows what we, the audience, are thinking, if she believes that is all there is to life, why doesn’t she end it?  Peggy replies that she is going to respond, that she is not ready for that final disappointment:

Cause I know just as well as I'm standing here talking to you
And when that final moment comes and I'm breathing my last breath,
I'll be saying to myself
Is that all there is?
Is that all there is?
If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
If that's all there is

Perhaps there is some hope in that approach but it doesn’t seem like it is truly hopeful.  The idea of living life to the fullest because that is all there is seem to me to be a cry of despair as there is nothing else but what we have now and there is the eternal question, ‘is that all there is?’ 

The answer to that question is to live in the sure and certain hope that we have meaning in life that there is more to life than just breaking out the booze and having a ball.  As a Christian I find the ultimate meaning in the eternal presence of Jesus Christ as my Saviour and in the sure and certain hope of new life.  However, I believe that many people can and do find other sources of meaning.  The meaning comes from living in the knowledge that you are not the only thing that matters; in the knowledge that you are not the centre of the universe.  We have the sure and certain hope that we are all more than that and can live in ways that embrace life beyond breaking out the booze and having a ball.   No, that is not all there is. 

Blessings on that journey which we are all taking; the journey of life. 

What’s Next?

This morning when I was thinking about what to reflect on in this week’s edition, what came to mind was a program on CBC T.V. that I watched when I was quite young―perhaps I was 10 years old so; perhaps a little older or a little younger.  In any case, the details are rather fuzzy.  The thing I remember about the program was the ending.  The protagonist (I don’t think it would be appropriate to call him the hero) was determined to catch some people who had been behaving in an improper way (I don’t remember the particular issue but it was not something seriously bad).  They were using an escape route to avoid the authorities.  The protagonist thought he had them where he wanted them.  He was waiting for them at the other end of this escape route.  However, they became aware of the trap that had been set up and went another way.  The programs ended with the protagonist waiting for them to fall into him trap.  The audience knew what he didn’t; they would not be caught; at least not this time. 

I believe that this was etched in my memory as my father, who was a great fan of the CBC (as I am), declared that this was the difference between good ‘Canadian” drama and the programs you see on American TV where everything was wrapped up in a nice neat bow.  It was left to the imagination of the audience to decide what would happen next. 

This came to mind partly because of the Gospel reading from yesterday, John 18:33-37. It turned out that the Gospel passage in the missal (the book of scripture readings and collects) ended before it should have.  In the passage, Jesus is before Pilot and being questioned by him about what kind of a king Jesus was (we were celebrating Christ the King Sunday).  The passage ends with the phrase, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”  However, due to an editing error, the passage in the book ended after ‘testify’.  In effect the passage read, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify”. 

The question is then, “what is it that Jesus testifies to?”  I think that would be different for each of us.  What is Jesus testifying to in your life?  Perhaps if you are an atheist, it is just that he was a wise man and a good story teller.  If you are a Muslim, you would believe that he is a prophet.  However, if you are a Christian and believes that he is the only anointed son of God the Father, or some part of that belief, what is it that Jesus testifies to you in your life.

It is good to have open ended questions.  They don’t provide definite answers which can either be accepted of rejected.  It leaves it up to the individual to decide what it means for them as at this time in their life.  It will certainly change and be different at different points in your life; it certainly has been for me and continues to be.  That is why I particularly like the original ending of the Gospel of Mark.  The oldest manuscripts of the Gospel end a Mark 16:8, “So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”

The open-ended story is what each of us is living.  It opens us to possibilities that each day brings.  Sometimes they will fill us with terror and amazement and sometimes they will open the door to new possibilities.  What will Jesus testify to you today?

Blessings on your journey.

Apocalypse Now?

When I was younger, which is a long time ago, I was very taken and attracted to science fiction books and movies.  One sub genre which particularly grabbed me was the stories where there had been a disaster, either man made or natural, in which civilization was destroyed and the survivors were trying to, well survive, and hopefully build a new world out of the old.  I imagine this genre had a title, however, I am not aware of the official one.  Today I am inclined to call it apocalyptic. 

There have been many movies made in this genre including such well known ones as the Mad Max series.  In those there not initially much hope for a better world to rise out of the old.  It centered on the struggles of the hero to survive.  By the way these movies introduced Mel Gibson to north American audiences.  I’m not sure but I think I recall that his voice had to be dubbed as his Australian accent was to thick for North Americans to understand; however, I may be wrong on that.   However, in the end of that series there was a new world being born. 

This genre of story has been around a long time. One of the oldest that comes to mind is the Time Machine by H.G. Wells in which the future world that the hero travels to is split into the innocent Eloi who lived above ground in an apparent idyllic existence.  However, as it turned out, they were just fodder for the evil Morlocks who lived underground.  The splitting of the human psyche behind the story was dramatically portrayed in the Victorian era by the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde which dealt with the split on an individual basis rather than a societal one.  The splitting of the human psyche was also dramatically portrayed in modern culture by Mary Shelly in her story Frankenstein.   That myth of hubris of science gone wrong has captured the imagination of the modern world ever since and have been repeated in many forms since.  There is at the heart of the human psyche a belief that we are comprised of both good and evil.  The question is which part will win.

This walk down memory lane of apocalyptic stories and movies was sparked by the Gospel reading for Sunday past; Mark 13:1-8.  In the passage, Jesus foretells the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem.  This part of Mark is often referred to as the Little Apocalypse.  Like the Great Apocalypse foretold by John in Revelation, it announced a coming age which will bring the destruction and collapse of everything that the people knew.  One source I consulted had these characteristics of apocalyptic literature:

Present time is one of suffering

Why? The people are faithful in the midst of an evil world

Future: rewards for the patient and faithful righteous, and suffering for the unrighteous will eventually happen (usually in a different or recreated world)

In effect the old-world order was coming to an end―a cataclysmic end, but a new world would rise from the ashes of the old one.  Jesus was speaking of the end to the rule of a world ruled by the powers of this world and the establishment of God’s Kingdom.  We are waiting for Jesus to return and God’s Kingdom to be established.  The question for us today is, “what do we do in the meantime?”

What then, can the destruction of the Temple hold for us?  We know from psychology that it often takes a crisis in people’s lives to open up the possibility of radical change.  AA tells us that until the alcoholic hits bottom, he or she is not going to embrace the principles that mean turning away from the demons that enslave them.  They have to give up the illusion that they can do it them thorough their sheer will power.  It is human to want to hold on to our belief that we are in control and our lives can carry on with possibly making a few changes around the edges.  That is not what the Little or Great Apocalypse tells us.  Our old way of being must be torn down to allow the new to come into our being.

One impending apocalypse is global warming.  If nothing is done except making small changes around the edges, we are facing an apocalypse literally of biblical proportions.  This will probably mean that the world will be facing the destruction of at least our way of life if not our civilization and a large part of the physical world.  Are we to fiddle around the edges as Rome burns?  Recycling is good but it is basically just fiddling around the edges of the challenge. 

What we are facing, then, is a bit of a paradox.  Are we to wait for the foundations to be destroyed by some crisis.  Are we to wait until we hit rock bottom and end up collectively or individually face down in the proverbial gutter or experience near death so that we can become the people that Jesus Christ calls us to be?  I certainly don’t want that to happen to me and hope it will not happen to any of you.  What are we to do then?  We are called to take steps to live out the commandment of Jesus to love one another as he loves us.  Loving one another includes all of God’s creation which, of course, includes the world.  We do this knowing that it is a challenge for all Christians. 

We will not succeed fully every time or perhaps fail miserably some times.  However, we can have the intention of living that life and will make a conscious effort to live that way.  Fortunately, we are also offered forgiveness by Jesus Christ when we do not succeed.  When we fall into sin; and it is when and not if, we can repent and try again, and again, and again.  We are called to live in hope.  So let’s do that and not despair.

The Bells of Peace

Yesterday marked the one hundredth anniversary of the armistice that ended World War 1, the Great War to end all wars.  To mark the occasion The Royal Canadian Legion in conjunction with Veterans Affairs was sponsoring the Bells of Peace.  As noted on the Legion website:

Bells of Peace marks the occasion 100 years ago, when church bells across Canada rang out to share the news: the First World War was over. As the sun goes down, a bell or bells will be rung 100 times at community locations across the country to honour the sacrifices of Canadians who served in the 1914-1918 War, and to remembers the horrors of war, the costs to society, and the promise of peace.

As bells toll to remember the 650,000 who served, close to 66,000 killed, and more than 172,000 wounded, many communities will also commemorate the local people and events that link their community to the Great War. A soundwave of bells across the nation will help tell a historical journey of Canada's service and sacrifice during the First World War.

At my home church, St. James Anglican Church, Parkhill, a group of us gathered at 5:00 pm yesterday and rang the church bell 100 times (there may have been a few extra for good measure as the count was a bit unclear at the end).  I am gratified that this endeavour was named the Bells of Peace as it is important that when we remember the sacrifices made by so many in that War to end Wars, and in so many wars and conflicts since then, that we not only honour those who sacrificed in so many different ways but also the hope and promise of peace that was embraced by so many at that time. 

As the Chaplain to Branch 341 of the Royal Canadian Legion, at the service at the cenotaph at 11:00, I read the honour role of those who gave their lives in that war was well as WW2 and the Korean War from this area.  I am grateful that no name has been added to the honour role since the Korean War.  It is important to also remember the sacrifices made by all who have served since then in so many conflicts which continue to this day.  The latest conflict involving Canadians is the Peacekeeping effort tin Mali in which a contingent of 250 Canadian soldiers are engaged in what is described as ‘complex’.  In today’s sometimes confusing political climate peacekeeping has devolved in more peacemaking that keeping.

Since the end of conflict one hundred years ago the reality of war we have become more aware of the consequences for those who have served.  Those who were involved in war zones can suffer significant and lasting serious negative impacts on their mental health as well as the physical which are often easier to see.  What was known as shell shock in WW1 is now recognized as PTSD.  The consequences on these conditions and others like it and the impact it continues to have on the veterans and their families is now much more appreciated.  It is important that the sacrifice and suffering by all who have served and continue to serve is not forgotten of diminished. 

A week ago, Lorna saw the wonderful play, Come From Away, which tells the true events of the people who were passengers commercial air planes on 9-11 and were diverted to Gander NFLD as air space over the United States was shut down.  The story of one woman particularly stood out for me.  Her son was a fire fighter in New York and she spent the time grounded in Gander trying without success to find out if he was safe. 

The anxiety and fear she experienced during those six days were dramatically presented with great force.  It was not until later that she was informed that he had died as a first responder in the Twin Towers.  I share this account not to diminish in any way the ultimate sacrifice of those who we honour today.  It is to recognize the sacrifice made by so many in so many different circumstances which should also be honoured and remembered.  It is also to recognize and honour the sacrifices by those who loved the ones who made the sacrifices.

We, who follow the Prince of Peace, are called to pray and to work for peace in this world where that often seem to be a dream and hope which is receding in the distance.   I will close with the prayer that I prayed at when we gathered to ring the Bell of Peace at St. James, the Prayer of St. Francis:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Amen.

Be Careful For Nothing

Last weekend – actually Friday and Saturday, Lorna and I adventured into the urban wilderness of Toronto.  We traveled by VIA rail going business class which, I discovered, is well worth the extra cost.  You and pampered and plied with drinks and good food and all in all was a very pleasant experience.

We were in Toronto primarily to see ‘Come From Away’ which is the dramatization of true events when planes were diverted to the small community of Gander Newfoundland on 9-11.  Gander is a small community with, ironically and opportunistically, a large now much unused airport.  We also had a visit with family which made the experience extra pleasant.  I found Come From Away to be a wonderfully moving experience.  It made the story of those unintended refugees in commercial airlines, which most of the world heard about at the time, come alive and gave, what was to me a true experience of the challenges and triumphs of the people involved in dealing with a completely unexpected experience.  There were, unbelievably, about nine thousand passengers and crews for planes from many different countries which were diverted to the airport in Gander NFLD which had a population of a similar number.  The magnitude of the challenge was very dramatically represented in the play. 

The drama and anxiety and boredom of those passengers who had no idea what was happening as they landed in an unknown land and sat on the tarmac for up to twenty-eight hours without being told what was happening was made crystal clear to the audience.  The challenge of a relatively small community to meet the demands of the situation and response by the Newfoundlanders who are legendary for their hospitality made it also crystal clear that those planes were in the best place in the world.  A larger centre such as Toronto might have had more resources to respond to the emergency but the warmth and welcome and ingenuity of the Newfoundlanders could not have been duplicated elsewhere. 

One scene which stood out for me was the response to the challenge of the many different languages spoken by the refugees.  It could have been a scene out of the Tower of Babel.  However, those people had something the people of Babel didn’t.   The initial response was a true epiphany as one of the residents realized that many of the people had bibles in their languages and was inspired to find a verse which would help in availing their fears.  It was Philippians 4:6-8.  In the play it was translated “Be anxious for nothing.”  I prefer the translation from the King James version, “Be careful for nothing”.  The whole verse sums up the beauty of the response:

⁶ Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.

⁷ And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

In this case I must concede that “anxious” was more appropriate in the circumstances. 

There was much for those refugees to be anxious and afraid about.  Some of these things were lived out as revealed in the play but in the end the care and hospitality and, yes, love shown by the Newfoundlanders and the response by the refugees gave the truth to the wisdom of Julian of Norwich, “all shall be well and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.

I cannot help be compare the welcome received by those refugees on 9-11 to the fear that is being Trumped up (pun intended) in response to the ‘caravan’ of refugees currently making its way o the southern border of the United States.  I will close with a quoted from a source that I often turn to, the lyrics for Leonard Cohen which seem to be an appropriate response:

I saw Jesus on the cross on a hill called Calvary
"do you hate mankind for what they done to you? "
He said, "talk of love not hate, things to do - it's getting late.
I've so little time and I'm only passing through."

Passing through, passing through.
Sometimes happy, sometimes blue,
Glad that I ran into you.
Tell the people that we all are passing through.

Let our response to the refugees in our lives be one of love and not hate.  Time does seem to be short and it seems to be getting late these days. 

Blessings on your journey.

Do We Care?

I have been shocked (perhaps naively) by the recent acts of violence in the United States; specifically, first, the home-grown terrorism of the bombs mailed to prominent members of the Democratic Party as well as CNN personalities who Donald Trump repeated call “fake news”, and second, the mass murder at the Synagogue.    The suspects in each of these cases were apparently influenced by the statements of Donald Trump.   It is important to note that they are still suspects who are not guilty until they have due process.  However, it is undeniable that Donald Trump has done a great deal to increase the further divide in a much-divided country and has set groups of people against others.  I specifically say groups as much of what he says is categorizing people not as individuals but as classes and races and groups such as transgendered.

This morning I read a fascinating article which was posted by Lorna Harris on her Facebook wall.  As an aside, I finally discovered what the Facebook Wall is having heard people refer to it for years and not understanding it is just when you post something on your Facebook Page.  But I digress.  The article is entitled “Silence in the face of evil” by Alan Bean   and can be found at https://baptistnews.com/article/silence-in-the-face-of-evil-learning-from-an-obscure-schoolteacher-who-urged-karl-barth-and-other-theologians-to-stand-in-solidarity-with-the-jews-in-nazi-Germany/?fbclid=IwAR2Q0rSXvzH_BLsTwZ8vYE21DgNHO0CXotE03r84wOinuUnRk5qw4xWlVNQ#.W9ci3WhKiUn

The link is good summary of the subject and speaks of someone in pre-WW2 Germany, Elisabeth Schmitz, who encouraged Protestant leaders such as Martin Niemöller, Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Karl Barth to speak out directly against Hitler and Nazi actions before the war.  The author relates the silence of Protestant leaders in pre-war Germany to what is happening in the United States today and criticizes the religious leaders who support the President, “Trump is idolized by one-third of the American population because he never mentions these realities. In fact, he buries the guardians of memory under an avalanche of invective. The German Church never acknowledged her (the churches) complicity with the National Socialists, and the white churches of America are equally resistant to truth.” 

I am currently re-reading The Cry for Myth by Rollo May.  In his analysis of the classic novel, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald and the myth behind it, he argues that the Fitzgerald was writing about the emptiness of the Jazz Age and that, “behind our loneliness was the lack of authentic caring.”  May notes that Fitzgerald uses the “careless” on almost every page of the novel.  He further holds that, “The word “care” should be taken in its literal meaning: the ability of people to have compassion, to communicate on deeper levels and to love each other…Tom and Daisy has no sense of mercy, which expresses care and usually can be counted on to mitigate human cruelty.” 

May holds that the central theme of the novel is loneliness.  Jay Gatsby was a “the proto-type of loneliness.”  He was a self-made person and, “like all self-made persons, he was cut off inwardly from and deep relationship.”  This, it seems to me, to be exactly what and who Donald Trump is.  He revels in the persona of the self-made man who achieved all he did himself with just a small million-dollar loan from his father which, of course, he repaid.  The recent revelation that he received inestimably more (as least monetarily) from his father belies that foundation of the Donald Trump myth. \

Trump is decidedly, in my mind, at base a lonely person who must who seeks continually to be complemented outrageously by those around him and to receive adulation by the adoring crowds at the endless rallies that have continually been held since his election. 

So, what is the response to what we see going on in the United States. First, we have to realize it is not just in the United States.  The seeds of what is being harvested there are here in Canada and in the world today.  We must base our response on love which is the foundation of caring; caring for others and for the world.  We are called as Christians to love our neighbours and, more to the point, to love our enemies as impossible as that seems.  To love someone does not mean to blindly accept whatever they say or do.  We must show the love of Christ in our prayers and actions; it is not enough to hold them in “our thoughts and prayers” as is so often the response by those in leadership in our countries.  Prayers must be followed by actions.  We need to speak out when laws are passed to divide rather than show caring for those who are on the margins of society such as the decision there will be no more safe injection sites in Ontario. 

We are each on a journey, as I sign off each of these musings.   We are each on a journey but we do not journey alone.  We are on a journey where it is possible to care for one another or to live out or a sense of loneliness and futility as Jay Gatsby did.  It is up to each of us what that journey will be.  

May it be blessed.

You’ve Got to Serve Somebody

Yesterday, the Gospel reading was the account of the disciples James and John, the Zebedee boys (as they were described by the preacher) asking Jesus for a favour.  They want Jesus, "to do for us whatever we ask.” Jesus certainly was not going to be taken in by that ploy i.e. answering an open request without knowing what was being asked of him.  In this case, it was a blatant request by the boys to have places of honour in God’s kingdom.

Here we have a great example of ego run a muck.  The Zebedee boys think that they should be in positions of honour when God’s kingdom is established.  After all, hadn’t they been his loyal disciples, ones in his inner circle.  Shouldn’t their loyalty and sacrifice be rewarded?  They had earned it.  They deserve it.  They wanted to get their just rewards.  And why not you might ask.

I have called the ego God’s greatest gift as well as man’s greatest challenge or perhaps curse.  The ego believes it is and should be in charge.  It naturally believes is the centre of its universe and will do just about anything to confirm and maintain that position.  

This desire for control and to be in charge has led to no end of trouble for human kind throughout history.  Of course, we could not be conscious beings who are aware of our place in the world and our relationship to all of God’s creation and to God without the ego.  So, it is not a question of eliminating the ego.  It is a question, as least for Christians, of knowing that the ego should serve God and not the other way around.

In effect, are we going to serve God or are we going to behave as if God and everything else should serve us.  If we try and have the world serve us things are going to go badly awry and we will serve other things and believe we are serving ourselves.   The song by Bob Dylan sums it up nicely:

You may be an ambassador to England or France
You may like to gamble, you might like to dance
You may be the heavyweight champion of the world

You may be a socialite with a long string of pearls

But you're gonna have to serve somebody, yes
Indeed you're gonna have to serve somebody
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you're gonna have to serve somebody

As Bob says, we’re going to have to serve somebody or some thing.  The choice is up to us.  It ain’t an easy choice (as I’m sure somebody must have sung sometime) but it is a choice thanks to free will. 

Blessings on you journey and on the choices you make.

The Forgiveness Challenge

The Globe and Mail this past Saturday published an opinion piece entitled Forgiveness is for Suckers.  A link to the article is https://www.theglobeandmail.com/opinion/article-todays-forgiveness-culture-is-for-suckers/.  The article draws on the parable of the Prodigal Son to support the author’s position that forgiveness is a scam.  The closing sentence of the article states “Maybe the real message of the Prodigal Son story us that the pride of the show-off forgiver will always be served first.”  I am not sure in the authors mind whether the ‘forgiver’ is the Prodigal son who is forgiven or the father who does the forgiving.  It definitely isn’t the older brother.   

The article has many arguments and a conclusion that I disagree with whole heartedly.  First, the author RM Vaughan, does not appear to have read the actual parable or, if the author has, is deliberately blind to what it actually says.  He begins by stating the older brother stays home to look after this aging father.  There is nothing in the parable to suggest the father is old with the implication that perhaps he is going senile.  After all who would forgive the young foolish son except someone who is losing his mental faculties.  Indeed, the parable tells that, “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.”  Not the action of an elderly incapacitated man.  The author is very much on the side of the older son saying he, “never got so much as the occasional goat to slaughter.”  He could have added not even a goat much less ‘the fatted calf’ which the father did to celebrate the return of the son who was lost to him. 

The author leaves out the poignant reply by the father, “‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’”  I read into this that the older son could have had a goat for a celebration if he had wanted one.  But perhaps he was too proud and had a bit of a martyr complex. However, that may be reading too much into the story.  Vaughan’s position is that the prodigal son got away with it.  He got his inheritance early and spent it on wine, woman and song and when he ran out of money he sobered up, picked himself up and gaily returned home to reclaim his previous life.  The father was a fool and worse to just blindly forgive the wastrel son.  However, as Jesus (the author of the story) tells us, the younger son repented, “I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ 20 So he got up and went to his father.”  He does just this when he is greeted by his father saying, “The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’” 

There can be several ways of looking at this.  First, the father forgave the son regardless of his repentance.  The second way is that the father recognized that the son had repented by the very act of returning home.  Finally, the cynic could say that the prodigal son did this just as a ploy knowing his father would take him back and restore him to his old life if he showed repentance.  In any case, the father in the parable, who can represent our heavenly father, is forgiving when his son repents and turns around from his sinful ways.  This is very true for us as well. 

In my assessment of the essay, the author is, unfortunately viewing the issue of forgiveness through a lens that does not see the possibility of true forgiveness.  Vaughan see certain acts of coverup as forgiveness putting the sins of the Roman Catholic Church of moving pedophile priest to different parishes as acts of forgiveness rather than a way of protecting the institution which was more important that the protection of the members of the flock.  Vaughan makes the point that forgiveness is held up as a matter of simplistic shrug-it-off formulas and “by its very nature, forgiveness is an act of denial.”

I must agree with Vaughan that the church has made forgiveness seem to be an easy thing.  As Christians we are commanded to follow Christs example and forgive.  By implication all we have to do is the say the magic phrase, “I forgive”, and all is well; we forgive and forget.  As a result, this idea of easy forgiveness has entered our culture.  Forgiveness does not involve forgetting.  True forgiving does not come easily and will likely involve a lot of hard work which will move forward in fits and start.  However, the moving forward will free us from being held hostage by the events that we have experienced.

Vaughan makes the final point by quoting someone who sates that “There is nothing in the bible that says that forgiveness is good for the physical or mental health”.  That is probably true, but it is true that it is necessary for sour souls.  If we are unable to forgive we will have barriers to living fully in relationship with God.  We will be filled with anger and possibly hatred which is not a recipe for loving our neighbours much less our enemies.  If we do not forgive we will have a lens through which we will have a distorted view the world just as Vaughan perceived the Prodigal Son parable.

Blessings on you journey.

Going Home

Happy Thanksgiving to all the Canadians.  We Canadians like to get a jump on what is after all, the beginning of fall and begin preparations for the winter to come.

Last week we were traveling and have now settled in to our home in Parkhill closing down the (summer) home in Prince Edward Island.  Making that transition always encourages me to think about where and what home is.  I am reminded of a resident of L’Arche, Daybreak in New Market Ontario.  I visited L’Arche for a few day one reading week when I was studying theology at Huron College in London Ontario.  One of the residents always greeted people with the question, “where’s your home?”  When I was asked this, it set me back a bit because it was not the usual, “where do you live” or “where do you come from?”  It was unexpected and also, I wasn’t sure what the answer was.

Where is my home is not something that is easy to answer such as where do I live?  I live in Parkhill Ontario as well as Eglington PEI but I am not sure that either place is truly my home.  Perhaps the cottage is more of a home but I not sure about that.  If I consider what actually constitutes a home it is a place where I feel I belong and where I can be accepted for who I am.  I can fall back on the cliché, ‘home is where the heart is’.  It is a cliché but there is a kernel of truth as there is in every cliché.  What place resonates with my heart.  I felt I had found my church home when I was at my first real experience of Anglican worship many years ago after looking for a religious home.   I knew in my heart, if not in my head (at least initially) that this was where I belonged.

There is also the sense of going or returning home when I have shuffled off this mortal coil.  I was listening to a program about a resident for aging convicts who were who were on parole after being imprisoned for many years.  The founder of the facility, who gave more than might be expected of anyone to people such as these, did everything possible to make the place a home for them and was able to comfort many who were actively dying by assuring them that they were going to their eternal home.  That is the sense that is captured wonderfully in the spiritual Going Home.  It is often thought of as a traditional “negro” spiritual.  However, it is actually a relatively modern addition to the genre with a student of the famous composer, Anton Dvorak who put lyrics to the Dvorak music.  The following link is a good rendition of the haunting song, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tZ_2Xbvb0rQ.

The lyrics sum up, I believe the essence of what home is:

Goin' home, goin' home, I'm a goin' home;
Quiet-like, some still day, I'm jes' goin' home.
It's not far, jes' close by,
Through an open door;
Work all done, care laid by,
Goin' to fear no more.
Mother's there 'spectin' me,
Father's waitin' too;
Lots o' folk gather'd there,
All the friends I knew,
All the friends I knew.
Home, I'm goin' home!

Nothin lost, all's gain,
No more fret nor pain,
No more stumblin' on the way,
No more longin' for the day,
Goin' to roam no more!
Mornin' star lights the way,
Res'less dream all done;
Shadows gone, break o' day,
Real life jes' begun.
There's no break, there's no end,
Jes' a livin' on;
Wide awake, with a smile
Goin' on and on.

Goin' home, goin' home, I'm jes' goin' home,
goin' home, goin' home, goin' home!

The idea of home has come up a number of times in the last few days in things that I have been reading and listening to, which is not surprizing this seems to happen quite frequently.  I will close with one quote which is from The Cry for Myth by Rollo May:

The presence of a home, a place where one is listened to, where one can feel “at home,” is essential to healthy myth.  Many of our patients in therapy find that their neurotic problems are related to their never having had a home where they were listened to.

Blessing on your journey home.

Hubris and Humility

Last week I had a bite of reality.  I was diagnosed with pneumonia which was and is a first for me (consequently no edition of News and Views last week).  It stared with cold-like symptoms and the pneumonia bug, opportunistic, sneaky little devil it is, took up residence and has been hanging on by its finger nails since.  I have, for a long time, been proud of my ability to resists colds.  I can count the number of colds I have had in the last ten or fifteen years on one hand.  It was a matter of pride me.  Well as they say pride goeth before the fall and fall and it certainly did.

On reflection, I realize that pride can come in small and large ways but it is still pride.  Coincidentally, if you believe in coincidences, the Gospel reading from last Sunday here, ended with Jesus saying, “whosoever exalts himself shall be abased and he that humbles himself shall be exalted.”   So, here I was with a case of pride about what I thought was my great immune system which did not turn out to be as great as I thought it was.  Now you can say what harm did it do for me to do that and that is true.  It didn’t affect anyone else but me.  After all I didn’t think less of people who were susceptible to colds, not much anyway.  However, it did bring home to me the fact that pride can be very insidious.  If I felt that way about a small think I can easily be thinking that way about bigger and more significant things.    

It seems inevitable that we humans will compare ourselves to others.  How am I doing in x or y.  Well, I seem to be doing better than him and not as well compared to her and so on and on.  It can be anything from success (as the world defines it of course), a bigger house, a nice car or cars, a better job, higher on the career ladder.  It can be physical characteristics, better looking, bigger, or stronger.  It can even sneak into areas that you least expect.  Well, I’m a better Spiritual Director than that person or I am a more spiritual person than those people.   Boy I sure am more mature than she is.  Wow, I am closer to God that they are.  It really is insidious and perhaps that serpents in the garden is still at work albeit with a different kind of fruit than it used on our first ancestors.

I have been interested in the idea of humility for many years.  It comes with its with its evil twin hubris.  They are perhaps the opposite sides of the same coin, but perhaps not.  Hubris is, I believe, the consequences of comparisons.  I am better than others.  Indeed, I am so much better that I can do it all on my own and I don’t need anyone else and indeed I don’t owe my success to anyone else.  I certainly don’t need or owe anything to God.  One definition of hubris which catches the sense of it is:

a personality quality of extreme or foolish pride or dangerous overconfidence, often in combination with arrogance. In its ancient Greek context, it typically describes behavior that defies the norms of behavior or challenges the gods, and which in turn brings about the downfall, or nemesis, of the perpetrator of hubris.

To return to the Gospel passage from Sunday, we have those who exalt themselves being humbled in the next life and visa versa.  It may not be accurate to say that to exalt oneself (pride) is the opposite side of humility but they certainly are related.  I would say that humility is the cure for hubris or foolish pride.  I have been attracted to various writing about humility over the years, perhaps because I knew it was secretly an issue with me which I didn’t want to acknowledge to myself.  The first thing about humility that I remember reading was that a truly humble person can’t be humiliated.  I clung to that as an anecdote to past and future humiliations.  However, the best definition of humility that I have come across is, “to see things clearly.”  I wasn’t clear initially what that was getting at. 

However, on reflection and consideration it became clearer.  If I can see myself clearly, I will know and acknowledge that I am not the master of my fate.  I will know that I am truly not in charge and whatever small gifts I have are not due in large part to the benefits I have received in life which I didn’t earn.  I will begin to acknowledge that, in one way or many ways, they are gifts from God.  It is foolish pride to challenge God or the gods. 

Another definition about humility which I can across recently addresses this.  It defines the characteristic of humility as, “the self-forgetfulness which makes room for God.”  That is the challenge; how to make room for God in all aspects of life.  That is something I continue to struggle with and probably will.  However, if I try really hard I might do it better than others. 

Blessing on your journey with pride and humility.

Pining for the Fleshpots of Egypt

Lorna and I took a short trip away from the cottage this past week end.  The purpose of the trip was to visit St Mary’s Anglican Church in Summerside PEI.  The Rector/priest-in-charge was a student in our Parish here a few years ago. 

We had a positive experience worshipping there on Sunday which offered us a choice of using the more modern way of following the service on the screen at the front of the church or using the traditional way of having prayer and hymn books.  I chose the screen and Lorna chose the books.  That is something I may explore at another time.  However, I want to talk about our experience having breakfast before the service.

We had breakfast at the Starlite Café and Dairy Bar in Summerside near our motel.  I was a trip down memory lane with the café being a blast from the past, specifically the nineteen fifties.  The décor which except for its pristine state could have been original.  There was a juke box consul at every table with appropriate song selections for 25 cents (on reflection I don’t think a juke boxes would have cost that much in 1950’s but that’s a quibble). There were adds for Fanta Orange and Grape sodas (we both had forgotten about Fanta Grape).  There was the mandatory poster of Elvis in the army and much more.  There was also two 1950’s gas pumps which neither of us were old enough to have operated back when they were new.  I believe the price for the gas was 67 cents a gallon which was too high but still ridiculously low by today’s standards.  One source I checked on-line (certainly not available in the 1950’s) quoted the price at 18 cents a gallon which sounds more like it.  I would not have been surprized to see the Fonz from Happy Days in the next booth. 

In any case it was a trip down memory lane for both of us (there wasn’t the other infamous kind of a trip generally available until a decade later).  Memory lane was well travelled by almost all of the customers being of an age that would have grown up in the 1950’s and Lorna and I certainly enjoyed reminiscences of the past.  I think we were both a bit nostalgic about those times.  They were idyllic in many ways when fathers worked in jobs that supported the family and enabled us to live a comfortable lifestyle and mothers stayed at home raising the children and you could go out and play in the neighbourhood with friends and not come home until it was time for lunch or dinner.  Who would not want to go back to those times when everything was great or at least seemed that way to those of us lucky to be in the right circumstances.

However, we are also having a viewing experience which gives us another perspective on those times.  We are currently watching the first season on Mad Men on DVD.  Neither of us have seen the series and we purchased the DVD’s of the first season for our cottage viewing, now that we have updated from VHS and have a DVD player which was purchased last year. 

This presents a very different view of these times.  It is actually set in the early 1960’s.  However, most of the cultural values were what can be classed as the 1950s.  The only people of colour are elevator operators or cleaners or serving in similar jobs.  The series is about advertising men (mad men as they called themselves) and it was truly all men.  They women were secretaries, telephone operators and women did stay home and raised the children in suburbia and gave up any thoughts of careers when they got married.  The Mad Men are portrayed with all the worst characteristics of the male; they drink excessively and drive after drinking, they viewed woman as potential sex partners and tried to ensure that the potential did not go unfulfilled.  Gay men were definitely in the closet and lesbian women were also deep undercover.  And everyone seemed to smoke all the time.  It was not something that encouraged nostalgia in either of us.

Both views are, of course, not true reflections of reality.  They are viewed through the distorting lenses of time and selected memories.  However, both perspectives could be something that does make some people hanker for the good old days.  Why can’t we have a time when men were men and women were women and everyone knew their place and accepted it without question.  Why can’t America and even Canada be great again? 

There is a great danger is longing for our fantasies of what life was like and wishing we could remake the world in the image of our selective and distorted memories.  That was what the Israelites experienced on their journey to the Promised Land.  They murmured against the hardships of their journey with the monotony of manna from heaven and the pined for the fleshpots of their former lives in Egypt with its security and familiarity.  They conveniently forgot about the hardship and cruelty they had experienced under the slave masters.  Yes, the grass did look greener back along the banks of the Nile. 

Of course, they blamed Moses who had (mis)led them out of Egypt.  The hero had become the villain.  It seems to be our nature to look for someone who will save us and has the answers to all our problems.  Someone who will point the finger away from us and at the Other who is the source of our problems.  That was what many followers of Jesus was looking for; someone who would feed their bodies if not their souls, someone who would defeat the Romans; someone who would cast out their demons and cure their leprosy. However, his early promise seemed to be a bust.  The triumph of Palm Sunday turned into the despair of Good Friday.  We are still hoping for someone who will take us directly to that triumph. 

The nineteen fifties of our imagination never were but we are still looking for someone to lead us back to the fleshpots of Egypt.  The journey to the Promised Land is long and there are no short cuts but the journey is worth it. 

Those fleshpots never were that good, were they? 

Blessings on your journey

Who is Your Samaritan?

Happy Labour Day (notice the Canadian Spelling of Labour with a u) to everyone in Canada and the United States.  This is one of the many holidays that we celebrate in common.  There is much in common between our two countries even though the differences seem to have become more of a breech in recent years with the great contrast between our two ‘Great Leaders’.  However, even Trudeau the Younger seems to be revealing that he also has feet of a clay-like substance.  Where are the Happy Days that we were promised?

That being said or ranted (albeit only a little rant which I didn’t set out to write) I must admit that this Labour Day Weekend was unusual for me.  I had to beg-off or bow-out of the two worship services I was scheduled to preside at yesterday because or flu-like symptoms that stuck around.  Lorna and I have for the first time in our joint memories, been sick at the same time with the same symptoms.  I noted this morning that our coughs were like a call and response.  However, we are both on the mend and we sound sicker than we feel this morning.  In respect to the worship services, fortunately was reminded that I am not indispensable and one of the lay readers stepped up and short notice and replaced me.  I do want to note that this was the first time since I was ordained that I was not was my not able to fulfill my scheduled Sunday worship duties. 

Bottom line is that I have a sermon that was undelivered and there is the eternal question if a sermon is unpreached, did anybody hear it?  In response, here is it for the most part as I would have delivered it so it won’t fade too quickly into the place where most sermons go to their eternal rest.

The Gospel reading in our prayer book is the well-known account of the ten lepers who are healed by Jesus and only one returns to give his thanks after he sends them to the priest to be declared clean.  The catch line in the story is, “and he was a Samaritan”.

  

I’m not sure if that should be read as a question or an exclamation.  When we hear of this account it is natural to think of the parable of the Good Samaritan which has resonated down through the millennia since Jesus told it.  Again, it has the same message; it was the Samaritan who did the right thing – who was the neighbour to the traveler.  The priest and the Levite stayed on the other side and looked the other way.  Have you ever done that when someone has approached you on a street for a hand out.  How easy it is to look the other way and ignore the request.

However, why did Jesus use the Samaritan in the parable, and why was it surprizing that it was a Samaritan who returned to give thanks to Jesus for his miraculous healing?

The bottom line was that Samaritans and Jews did not generally get along with each other.  That is something of an understatement.  Well, actually you could say that the Samaritans were closely related to the Jews.  They considered themselves to be descendants of the tribes of Ephraim and Manasseh who were the sons of Joseph. 

These tribes were considered half tribes making up the twelve tribes of the Israelites.  So, in effect it was what could be considered a family feud.

What then was the basis for this feud?  Well, it probably won’t surprize you that it was religious.  The Samaritans’ bible was the Samaritan Pentateuch based on the torah, the first five books of the Hebrew bible.  You only have to look at Christian Church history to know how many wars and battles and schisms have been fought over what tis the true bible and in what language it should be written.  It still comes as a surprize to some people that Jesus did not speak the Queen’s English or Latin or even Greek.  But I digress somewhat.

If that was not enough, there was more to this feud than just the Holy Book or Books.  There was also a dispute over which place of worship was the true place.  This is mentioned in the account in John’s Gospel of the Samaritan woman at the well who encounters Jesus.  She tells Jesus that the mountain is the centre of their worship.  Of course, the centre of the worship for Jews was the Temple in Jerusalem.  She poses the question to Jesus when she realizes that he is the Messiah. Jesus affirms the Jewish position, saying "You (that is, the Samaritans) worship what you do not know" which seem to settle the question for Jesus’ view of the true religion.

There was also the question of the Samaritans worshipping idols in addition to an impure form of temple worship.  Of course, the problem of idol worship and false Gods such as Baal, was an ongoing one with the Jews which the prophets railed against and prophesied doom if the chosen people did not repent and return to the one true God.   

  

There were other differences in beliefs and practices but bottom line is that they both worshipped YHWH and had the same foundation to their religious beliefs.

It reminds me of a great sketch I heard once - I think it was one of Garrison Keillor.  In the story, as I remember it, two men meet and begin to talk.  They discover they are both Lutherans.  They go through the various branches and divisions of the Lutheran Church - Missouri Synod and so on and find they that they are both members of each division.  Finally, they come down to a rather obscure branch and find they find themselves on different sides of the branch.  The one responds to the other, “die apostate”!  It is amazing how we can find things that divide us rather than things that unite us. 

Who would the Samaritans be in your life?  Who would Jesus have to substitute for the Samaritan to make his point in telling you the Parable of the Good Samaritan or the one leper who returns.  Who would he have to identify to shame you into realizing you are finding division rather than unity with your brother and sisters?  Would it be a Palestinian if you were a Jew?  Would it be an American if you were a Canadian who felt superior to those Americans who are so divided in their politics and seemingly everything else?  Would it be those refugees that land on one of our borders?  Would it be you next door neighbour who isn’t a good neighbour? Would it be a member of your congregation who acts in ways you do not approve of?  Would it be a member of your family who you find embarrassing?  Would it be a member of your family who comes out as gay or lesbian?

And he was a Samaritan. 

Jesus commands us to love one another as he loves us.  He commands us to love one another and yes even to love our enemies.

Who is your Samaritan?