My second "Devotion for People at a Social Distance." This one is inspired by the famous words written 400 years ago by John Donne, a British priest desperately ill in epidemic stricken London.
What can Donne's "Devotions upon Emergent Occasions," say to us today? Lots!
I have committed to do what I'm calling a series of "Devotions for People at a Social Distance." Every day, I will be speaking to and praying with people who are isolated and maybe afraid and worried about the future. Where is the hope and comfort. This devotion is based on the story of the disciples afraid in a boat on the lake.
First of all, here are four videos of the morning worship:
Part 1: Prelude to Life and Work of the Church
Part 2: Scripture Readings and Hymn
The Readings of the day were Exodus 17:1-7, Psalm 95:1-11, Romans 5:1-11 and John 4:5-40
Part 3: Sermon -- When there is no water on the journey
You may read the full text of the sermon below.
Part 4: Offering, a lovely offertory by Margaret MacKenzie-Leighton, and the end of the service.
As I say in the invitation to the offering, this is something very important for everyone to be involved in now. Here are some links that you can use to give.
The children of Israel were tired of their journey and, you know what, I don’t blame them. It is a hard thing to pass through a desolate territory. Resources are scarce. You don’t know where your next meal is coming from, where you are going to be able to set up your tent or whether some wild animals might decide to invade the camp. I’ve gone camping before – been out in the wild and away from all of the conveniences of modern life. I’ve really enjoyed it – for about four days. At least for me, that was when a real weariness kicked in.
So, when the people arrived at a place called Rephidim – a
green oasis in the midst of the desert – it would have immediately raised their
expectations. This was just the kind of place where they could finally relax a
bit – where water would be plentiful for a change and they might not have to
worry for a few days. So, you can imagine how they reacted when they discovered
that the spring in that place had ceased to flow. The promise of the oasis
turned out to be nothing but a great boulder that loomed in the place where the
spring ought to be. Now, that’s got to be frustrating – to have water so near
and yet so out of reach!
Now, make no mistake, that was a big problem. Access to water
supplies when you are travelling in the desert is not a matter of luxury; it is
a matter of survival. They had a legitimate reason to be concerned. So why did
Moses get so upset with them? I think it might have something to do with how
they phrased their complaint: “Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us
and our children and livestock with thirst?” they asked. The problem with
that is that it is what we always do. Whenever God is leading us though some
new and unfamiliar situation, and the going gets rough, we always default to
what is old and familiar. It doesn’t even matter whether the old thing was a
good thing. In this case, they are pining for a situation where they were
literal slaves!
God calls us to move forward. God calls us to take risks
for the sake of the kingdom of God. Obviously, when that is the kind of thing
that you are involved in, there are going to be problems. There are going to be
bumps along the road and difficulties to deal with. The problem comes when our
response to those difficulties is merely to look back and complain about the
loss of what we were once used to. The real problem comes when our attachment
to the past traps us and keeps us from embracing the opportunities that God
places before us and that was what the children of Israel seem to have been
doing. So I cannot help but feel that, if the church is going to find its way
through whatever challenges God may be placing in front of us today, we’re
going to need a better example and model than the children of Israel passing
through the desert place. Fortunately, we have one.
Jesus was tired of his journey and, you know what, I don’t
blame him. For one thing, he was heading for Jerusalem which was the place that
was so dangerous and so stressful to him that it would actually be the death of
him eventually. He was also passing through a very stressful region if you
happened to be a good Jew like he was. You might even say it was a cultural
desert to him. He was in Samaria and Jews hated Samaritans; the feeling was mutual.
So, though he was surrounded by people, he really had nothing in common with
them. They might as well have spoken in a different language. But that was not
the worst part. The worst part was when Jesus arrived at a place called Jacob’s
well, a place famous for its pure, clear water, and he couldn’t drink any. The
problem was not that a great boulder was blocking access to the well, but it
was almost as hard to overcome: Jesus had nothing to draw water with. Now, that’s
got to be frustrating – to have water so near and yet so out of reach!
Now, if Jesus had just followed the example of his
ancient ancestors in the wilderness at this point, what would he do? He would whine
and complain about how God had brought him to this cultural wasteland so that
he might die of thirst. He would talk about how this kind of thing never
happened when he was back in Galilee among “civilized” people. But Jesus marked
a sharp departure from that whole way of thinking. Instead, he looked around
and asked himself the question, what possibilities has God placed in front of
me in this place?
And that is why, when a woman came along carrying a water
jar, Jesus didn’t react as his ancestors would have done. He didn’t say, “Well
I can’t talk to her because that would give her the impression that she’s a
human being instead of a filthy Samaritan. And I certainly mustn’t give her the
impression, as a woman, that she’s worthy of being addressed in public by a man!”
He should not have even acknowledged her existence. Is that what Jesus did? Did
he define his actions in the moment by what had worked for him in the past or
by the traditions that he had received? If he had done so, he would have
remained thirsty and frustrated.
Now, what Jesus did say: “Give me a drink,” makes
it sound as if Jesus is only concerned with his own needs in the moment. But
think, for a moment, about how extraordinary that is. He genuinely has a need
that only she can meet in that moment. How should we interpret that? Here we
have the only begotten Son of the heavenly Father, the living Word of God who
was a participant in the creation of the universe vulnerably acknowledging his
need to this foreign woman.
That is an important part of the example Jesus gives us
here because, out of his vulnerability and need, arises a whole new way of
relating to a group of people who had been, up until that point, cut off from the
good news that Jesus had brought. Out of that begins an entire ministry among
the people of Samaria.
When the children of Israel were in the desert place and
had no water, all they could think of to do was grumble and complain about how
things used to be. They did, in the end, get some water, but that was it. They
merely survived. When Jesus was in a cultural desert without water he took a
different course and ended up not only with the water he needed to survive but
some pretty amazing new opportunities for the gospel.
Which brings us, of course, to the particular desert
where we find ourselves today. We are not in a literal desert, nor are we in
the kind of cultural desert that Jesus found himself in that afternoon in
Samaria, but we are in a desert, my friends. Let’s call it a church desert.
There was a time when churches like ours – I’m talking
about Presbyterian, Anglican, United, Lutheran, Catholic churches and the like –
were known as mainline churches. It is a word that is still sometimes
used to talk about such churches, but the word no longer means what it once
did. What that used to mean was that those churches were plugged into the main
line of the culture and society. The church had power and influence.
When, for example, the government of Canada was looking
around for someone to run Indian residential schools, it was some mainline
churches who stepped up, and took on those contracts in what was seen as a
win-win type situation for both the church and for the government. Of course,
it was anything but a win for Canada’s indigenous people, but obviously that
was not a really big concern at the time. So, for good and for ill, and there was
a lot of ill in some circumstances like the one I just mentioned, churches had
their finger on the pulse of Canadian society. We were in the main line.
But we’re not really in that position anymore. For good
or for ill, we find ourselves pretty much on the sidelines of culture today. And
the thing is this, when you are used to being in the mainline, when you’ve been
used to having a certain voice and a certain position that people automatically
respect, when you start to lose that, it doesn’t just feel like a loss of
privilege. It can feel as if you’re suddenly dumped out in a desert place.
When you are used to being the people who set the tone
for the whole culture and you suddenly find yourself in a place where the
culture doesn’t much seem to care what you think, it can feel like you are in a
cultural desert. And what happens then? Well, when you have depended upon your
position and clout in society to get everything that you need, it can feel like
you have arrived at a freshwater oasis only to discover that there is no water
and you begin to worry that maybe you’re not going to make it.
We all end up in that sort of situation sooner or later.
The question is how will you react? Will you react like the children of Israel?
Will you whine and complain about the loss and talk about how good we used to
have things while we say, “Couldn’t we all just go back to Egypt?” If you do
that, yes, God might give you what you need to survive and muddle through. He might
make the water flow from the rock, but I suspect that you will have missed out
on an incredible opportunity that God is offering you when he brings you to
this desert place.
I would much rather see you do what Jesus did when he
came to that well in Samaria. I think it might be more appropriate where we
find ourselves today as well as more successful. What might that look like?
Well, first of all I think it might mean recognizing that we are, to a certain
extent, on foreign territory here. Yes, maybe at one time we were the ones who
established the cultural norms in this place, that’s no longer the case. We are
like Jews who have wandered into Samaritan territory and it is a strange
country to us. Secondly, and even more importantly, we, like Jesus, need to not
be afraid to be vulnerable and ask for help in this place. When we go around
pretending like we have all the answers and that nobody can tell us anything,
it creates an impossible distance between us and the people who live in this
place.
Jesus knew that a little bit of vulnerability can
actually go a long way to create connection. In the story of Jesus and the
woman by the well, it certainly creates a connection and an opportunity for
deeper conversation and honestly that is what we need to have with the society
around us. And it is in the midst of that conversation, after he has confessed
his own need, that Jesus is able to offer to the woman what he and he alone can
give and that is the living water that will quench a thirst that she maybe
doesn’t even know that she has.
We still have that water to offer. We have it in the
words of the gospel that we can share. We have it in the faith and trust in
Christ that we can model. And we have it in the supportive model of Christian
community that we are called to live out. And you better believe that that
living water can make a difference in people’s lives that is much needed. But
no one will ever get that living water from us if we are unable to have the
kinds of conversations that Jesus has with that woman by the well and never
forget that that conversation begins with Jesus being very tired and weary from
his journey and frustrated that is not able to get the basic thing that he
needs to survive and it begins with him being vulnerable to that woman and
choosing to treat her, contrary to everything that he’s been taught as a good
Galilean Jew, as a person who has value and importance.
Friends, we are tired and thirsty wandering through some
sort of desert these days. Lots of things make us feel that way. And of course
it is frustrating to come to the spring and find that there is no water. But
consider that perhaps God has led us to this place, that God is calling on us
to engage with the strangers who live in this strange land. Will you engage
with those people? Will you let your guard down, even show your vulnerability?
If you do, God has some opportunities for genuine ministry that might blow your
mind.
The service video from this morning is mostly edited but uploading the video files is taking much longer than expect. They will not be available one the web page until (probably) tomorrow morning. We are sorry for the delay, but hope you will watch then.
We at St. Andrew’s, like everyone else, have had
considerable difficulties navigating the ever evolving COVID-19 crisis. If we
were simply to rely on the directives that are being given to us, we would go
on with our service more or less as usual. The Presbyterian Church in Canada
has called on congregations to continue with Sunday services unless the local
health authorities indicate otherwise. And, since the local authorities are
only asking for gatherings of more than 250 to be cancelled, we are clear to
proceed.
Nevertheless, official directives do not seem to be quite sufficient at the moment. Therefore, out of an abundance of caution and care for our people, let me state that there will not be a regular morning worship service tomorrow, March 15th, but here is what will happen.
I will go to the church on Sunday morning for 10 am. I will be there and lead in worship and there will be a few people to assist me. There will be no Sunday School this week.There will be prayers and other elements of worship and I will preach a sermon. All of this will be videotaped and posted here on the webpage by 2:00 pm at the latest. I encourage you all to participate in worship by watching. While our worship and especially our prayers will touch on the present crisis, I will, in the sermon, encourage us to lift our eyes beyond the crisis to look at where God may be calling on us to go as a church in our ministry to the community. The sermon title is: When there is no water on the journey.
During this time on Sunday morning, the church will be open.
If you are not sick and have no symptoms, you may come in and join us in the
sanctuary. However, we will require that
everyone who enters must lovingly practice social distance. We will remain two
meters apart from each other (unless we come from the same household).
Finally, please remember the church in your prayers and in
practical ways. Even if many of our activities are shut down for a while, the
financial needs of the congregation will actually not lessen. We appreciate all
those who have made their commitment to the church through Pre-Authorized
giving. We probably could not weather this without your commitment. If you are
able to help us, please consider online giving. There are links on the web
page.
We will be assessing the situation throughout this week and
the next. Please know that St. Andrew’s is still in operation and will respond
to your needs even if we may have to limit face-to-face interactions. For now,
Bible study will continue, and the Food Bank is expected to still take place on
Thursday. I will begin to post daily prayers and meditations for you on the web
page. Please continue to check in.
Be in prayer for the people in the front lines battling the
virus and treating its victims. Respond to the needs of your brothers and
sisters here at St. Andrew’s, as well as those of your family, friends and
neighbourhood. Be loving and full of care as you treat all people with respect
even if (in these strange times) you may need to keep at a physical distance.
Together we will rise above these unprecedented times. (please pass this
message along to people whom you know are not online)
“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for
I am your God. I will strengthen you and
help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” -- Isaiah 41:10
I have written a lot of Annual
Reports over many years of ministry. They are not as easy to write as you may
think. How do you sum up an entire year of ministry on one sheet of paper,
after all? You can’t say everything, of course, but what can you do that will
at least give a flavour of what the year was like? I’m always open to finding a
fresh approach.
So, here is what I’m going to
do this year. You know those lists of questions that sometimes circulate on social
media – questions that you are supposed to post on your page and answer while
you challenge your friends to answer as well. Well, I borrowed one of those
lists and adapted it to make it:
20 Questions about Scott’s 2019
(Do
this without fibbing.)
1. Where are you answering these questions?
I am typing this as I sit in the car riding home (I’m not driving!) from a
quick visit and a supper with our daughter at college in London.
2. What is your favourite church picture you took during the year?
Session selfie!
3. Where was that picture taken?
At our Session retreat at Duff’s Presbyterian Church (February 2, 2019)
4. What was the hardest thing you had to do during the year?
Visit one of our church members in hospital. He was in a great deal of
pain, confusion and so weak and there was so little I could do for him.
5. What was the greatest privilege?
Visit that same church member in the hospital and be able to be a part of
that awful and yet meaningful and ultimately hopeful moment.
6. What moment in the year will you always cherish?
It was a moment that I cannot share with you. It was a moment of personal
counselling that I cannot tell, but the grace of God was a powerful and healing
presence. I will never forget it.
7. Best musical memory?
Most every time I got to sing with Joyful Sound!
8. What went terribly wrong and yet God turned it into something
wonderful?
On Sunday, February 3, 2019, I was awakened to the news that the furnaces
in the sanctuary were not working and it was cold in there, really cold! Oh no!
What will we do?! What we did was set up and hold worship downstairs in the Fellowship
Hall and we all had a great time and it gave us the impetus to start thinking
differently about what we really required to be a church together.
9. What was the latest you stayed up on a Saturday night getting
ready for a Sunday?
About 11:30 pm. I’ve gotten to the point that I’m really no good for much
of anything after that. I have also gotten to the point, however, when I just wake
up at 5:30 am Sunday morning and start getting ready.
10. Coolest surprise?
Carol Johnston knit Rudolph mittens for all the kids on the Santa Claus
Parade float. (Somehow, I ended up with a pair, too.)
11. Best New Development?
Our youth grew in number and decided to organize themselves and elect
their own leadership.
12. Best sign of hope?
We have a very meaningful moment when our session came together to create
a covenant with the help of Rev. Greg Smith..
13. People you couldn’t have made it though the year without?
Our amazing staff. Joni is constantly challenging me (in a really good way)
to be my best and bring out the best in others. Paula is so supportive and
uplifting. Corey consistently blows me away with her talent and her leadership
abilities. I feel I can always count on Glen to get it done. Karen is an
amazingly caring presence, pulls people together and makes a meaningful
community ministry possible.
14. Best church meal?
There were so many and they were so good but I’m going to have to go with
the Thursday Night Supper and Social Christmas feast!
15. Your earliest workday?
December 9, I got to work at 5:20 a.m. It was to open up the church and
turn off the alarm for a film crew.
16. Does pineapple belong on pizza?
Umm, maybe, under certain circumstances. Who am I kidding – it’s pizza. Of
course, I’ll eat it!
17. Most fun at a new event?
Open Mic. What an incredible cavalcade of the talents of this
congregation.
18. Who do you think will read this report?
Everyone, of course! They will pour over it like it’s a newly discovered
gospel.
19. Who will comment to you on the silliness of that previous answer?
Joni, Paula, Dominique, Ray and Allison.
20. Who will be upset that you mentioned their name in the previous
answer?
Join us on Sunday, April 5th, 5:00 pm, for a delicious roast beef dinner with all the fixings!
Tickets are on sale now: $15/adult; $6/12 & under; All inclusive in price of ticket.
This dinner supports our Thursday Night Supper & Social dinners.
Now the Lord said to Ashurbanipal, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.”
So Ashurbanipal went, “What, are you crazy, Lord? You want me to leave behind
everything that is familiar and comfortable, the land that I’m supposed to
inherit from my father and all of the family supports that are supposed to
protect me from all the unpredictability of life. That’s okay, Lord, you can keep your blessing.
But the Lord
was not discouraged and he went and said to Utnapishtim, “Utnapishtim, same
command. Leave your country and everything and you can have all these
blessings.” But Utnapishtim said, “Lord,
I am very flattered and everything, but I am totally swamped this month, can I
get back to you later on your plan.”
So, the Lord
went on to others – to Nahshon, Ammishaddai and Zuriel – but nowhere could he
find someone to take on the challenge of what he commanded them – until he
found Abram. And Abram, to everyone’s surprise, he just got up and went.
That is the kind of amazing thing about the story of the
call of Abram in the Bible, isn’t it? There really was nothing special about
Abram before that. He hadn’t done anything, hadn’t proven his value in
any way. When we first meet him in the Book of Genesis, there is only one thing
that sets him apart, one thing that indicates that he is different: when God
says go, he goes. He doesn’t talk back. He doesn’t ask questions or hesitate.
He goes.
That is what made me wonder how we’re supposed to read
this story. Was Abram the only one that God spoke to, or where others given the
same offer? Do we not hear about those others – are they entirely lost to
history – simply because they turned God down?
And if the only thing that Abram did to set himself
apart, at least at first, was respond to this command, what is the significance
of that? What did Abram do right? You might think that it was his instant
obedience that impressed God, which would mean that God is really only
interested in what you might call “yes men” (for lack of a more inclusive
term). What God wants more than anything else is someone who, when God says
jump, only says, “How high sir?”
But no, that cannot be it. If God were looking for
nothing more and nothing less than unquestioning obedience, he could have
chosen to adopt unthinking beasts instead of a human family. No, what set Abram
apart was not the instant obedience itself but the thing that made him react
that way, and that thing was faith.
In our reading this morning from his letter to the
Romans, the Apostle Paul is referring to a later event in Abram’s life when he
writes, “Abraham believed God, and it was reckoned to him as righteousness,” but what
he says there certainly applies to this earlier event. What set Abram apart
right from the very beginning was his willingness to believe the promises that
God made to him. Paul goes on from there to explain what belief in God means in
that kind of situation, “But to one who without works trusts him who
justifies the ungodly, such faith is reckoned as righteousness.” Paul says
that the faith that God is looking for is a willingness to trust God.
As I thought about the season of Lent this year, I
noticed that there was a certain theme that kept coming up in our readings for
Sunday mornings – a theme that is most clear in this Genesis reading this
morning. The readings are full of stories of people who step out and embrace
new things, new concepts and ideas, who leave things behind because they feel called
to something new. We see that theme, for example, in our gospel reading from
this morning. We see it as Nicodemus engages with Jesus of Nazareth who pushes
him to rethink just about every aspect of the Judaism that he has held onto as
a teacher of Israel. If Nicodemus is going to embrace what Jesus is saying to
him (which apparently according to this gospel he eventually does) he is going
to have to let go of many of the ideas and ways of thinking that have told him
who he has been up until this point in his life.
So, looking at that, my question was why are these the
stories that seem to be coming up during Lent? Lent has always been a very
important season in the life of the church. It is a time of reflection, of
repentance and of rededication. In the early church, it was also a time for focusing
on the basics of the faith. Throughout the season new members of the churches
would be taught what it meant to be followers of Jesus in preparation to be
baptized on Easter Sunday. So I think that we should also think of it as a
season when we focus on the absolute essentials of what makes us followers of
Christ.
With all of that in mind, how should we think of this theme
that seems to be introduced by this decision of Abram to just get up and go,
leaving everything that is familiar, just because God says so? I believe that
this is meant to teach us something absolutely essential about faith and what
it means for us as followers of Jesus Christ in the world today.
Let me ask you, how is faith generally perceived in our
society today? I would suggest that a very big stereotype of people of faith is
that they are people who cling to the past. That perception is not always true
about Christians, of course, but it is persistent, and it is not based on
nothing. There are many Christians today, for example, who cling to beliefs and
ways of seeing the world that are outmoded and largely discredited – those who
insist, for example, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, that the
world was all created about 6,000 years ago, and that it was all created in a
span of six 24-hour days. There are those who would claim that believing that,
in the face of all that contrary evidence, is a perfect example of what faith
is.
But it’s not just in matters of what people believe that
Christians can be particularly stuck to the past. It is also in matters of
practice and ways of doing things. We cling to old songs and old forms of
prayers and old traditions. Have you ever heard that favourite old hymn that
goes, “give me that old time religion, it was good enough for my father; it’s
good enough for me.”
And I am not saying that that is a horrible thing in and
of itself. Just because something is old doesn’t mean that it can’t be good. Old
traditions can obviously still be meaningful and comforting. Old truths can
still be true, and we should never abandon the truth. There is no problem if we
simply value these things and hold on to them appropriately. The problem comes
when we confuse blindly clinging to these things with faith; the problem comes
when we start to see stubbornness in itself as a virtue. And I’m afraid that we
often think in exactly that way.
If faith really were what we often assume it is, then
Abram would not be the ideal example of faith. He would be a negative example.
If faith was just about stubbornly clinging to the familiar and comfortable, then
the example that we would be celebrating today on this second Sunday of Lent
would be Ashurbanipal or Utnapishtim or whoever else turned God down flat
before Abram said yes. But there is a good reason why nobody knows who they
were.
The season of Lent is often compared to a journey. We
talk about how it is the path we have to travel in order to arrive at the sad
but beautiful truth of what happened on Good Friday when God’s love for us was
demonstrated so powerfully. It is a journey towards the incredible victory of
Christ’s resurrection on Easter Sunday. But every journey towards something is
also a journey away from something else; that is the truth that Abram
demonstrates to us so clearly. When he left on God’s orders, what he was
journeying towards was very nebulous. God hadn’t even actually told him where
he was going yet – had only promised to let him know when he got there.
But if Abram destination was unclear, what he was leaving
was anything but. He knew exactly what he was giving up and what it was costing
him. And that is often how it works and that is why change is hard, why it is
so much easier to cling to what you know than to embrace what you have not yet
seen.
And so, if we are going to think of our passage through
Lent this year as a journey, I’m going to propose that, instead of focussing
just on where we are going, we think about what God might be calling us to let
go of in order to get there. As you may know, it is a tradition in certain
churches to give up something during the season of Lent. People might make a vow
to stop eating chocolate or desserts or to stop doing some favourite activity
during the forty days of the season. That is may be close to what I’m talking
about here, but I think we may need to look for something a little bit more
serious than that.
I’m not talking about giving up something you like for
just a short period of time. I’m talking about giving up permanently the things
that are keeping you from grasping the full truth of what God did for you on
Easter and on Good Friday.
Let me ask you, what might you be clinging to, not
because it a good thing or a healthy thing, but simply because it is what is familiar
or comfortable. Perhaps it is an old grudge – something that you have been
holding against somebody for so long that you may have even forgotten why it
was that you were mad at them in the first place. Holding on to something like
that might make you feel good – there is a comfort to it – but it is not doing
anyone any good, least of all you. I would suggest to you that part of the
Lenten journey that God is calling you to is a journey away from that grudge.
Or maybe you’ve been resisting something – some change in
your personal life or something that you are involved in – even though you know
deep down inside that the change is inevitable. Change is hard and God
understands why we resist it, but your Lenten journey this year might well
involve you walking away from the resistance. That will mean that you will walk
into something new and unfamiliar and probably disturbing because of it, but
the walk forward is a walk of faith for you as much as it was for Abram.
I just think that you need to be reminded that, if your
faith is merely something that makes you hold onto what you’ve always known,
resist change and complain about any disturbance to what you are used to, it is
not the faith of Abram. It is not the faith that prompted God to bless Abram and
make him a nation that would bring blessing to the whole world. Walking away
from some of that will be hard, of course, but the same promise of blessing
that God gave Abram is the promise he is offering to you this Lenten season. So
let’s embark on the journey together.