NovemBer 15, 2020, Scripture Readings and Sermon
Message from Rev. George Porter
Scripture ReadingsJudges 4:1-7
The Israelites again did what was evil in the sight of the Lord, after Ehud died. So the Lord sold them into the hand of King Jabin of Canaan, who reigned in Hazor; the commander of his army was Sisera, who lived in Harosheth-ha-goiim. Then the Israelites cried out to the Lord for help; for he had nine hundred chariots of iron, and had oppressed the Israelites cruelly twenty years. At that time Deborah, a prophetess, wife of Lappidoth, was judging Israel. She used to sit under the palm of Deborah between Ramah and Bethel in the hill country of Ephraim; and the Israelites came up to her for judgment. She sent and summoned Barak son of Abinoam from Kedesh in Naphtali, and said to him, “The Lord, the God of Israel, commands you, ‘Go, take position at Mount Tabor, bringing ten thousand from the tribe of Naphtali and the tribe of Zebulun. I will draw out Sisera, the general of Jabin’s army, to meet you by the Wadi Kishon with his chariots and his troops; and I will give him into your hand.’” Psalm 123 1 To you I lift up my eyes, * to you enthroned in the heavens. 2 As the eyes of servants look to the hand of their masters, * and the eyes of a maid to the hand of her mistress, 3 So our eyes look to the Lord our God, * until he show us his mercy. 4 Have mercy upon us, O Lord, have mercy, * for we have had more than enough of contempt, 5 Too much of the scorn of the indolent rich, * and of the derision of the proud. 1 Thessalonians 5:1-11 Now concerning the times and the seasons, brothers and sisters, you do not need to have anything written to you. For you yourselves know very well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night. When they say, “There is peace and security,” then sudden destruction will come upon them, as labor pains come upon a pregnant woman, and there will be no escape! But you, beloved, are not in darkness, for that day to surprise you like a thief; for you are all children of light and children of the day; we are not of the night or of darkness. So then let us not fall asleep as others do, but let us keep awake and be sober; for those who sleep sleep at night, and those who are drunk get drunk at night. But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, and put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation. For God has destined us not for wrath but for obtaining salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live with him. Therefore encourage one another and build up each other, as indeed you are doing. Matthew 25:14-30 Jesus said, “It is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them; to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away. The one who had received the five talents went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents. In the same way, the one who had the two talents made two more talents. But the one who had received the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money. After a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them. Then the one who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five more talents, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me five talents; see, I have made five more talents.’ His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’ And the one with the two talents also came forward, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me two talents; see, I have made two more talents.’ His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’ Then the one who had received the one talent also came forward, saying, ‘Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.’ But his master replied, ‘You wicked and lazy slave! You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter? Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and on my return I would have received what was my own with interest. So take the talent from him, and give it to the one with the ten talents. For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’” |
Sermon: George PorterThis spiritual journey – walking with God, following Jesus –
very often takes us ‘off the map’. George Porter Perhaps by now you know that I was not born, baptized or first confirmed in the Anglican/Episcopal tradition. I am not a ‘cradle Anglican/Episcopalian. Someone once referred to me as a ‘retread’. Technically I was baptized and first confirmed in a Methodist church, though in reality my early years were a mashup of many spiritual influences. Even though I have eventually found a ‘nest’ in the Anglican/Episcopal ‘branch’ of the Christian ‘family tree’, my spiritual life and journey continues to be one of appreciating many other influences – continues to be a ‘mashup’. That’s not actually something odd in today’s culture – at least not as odd as it might once have been. At the heart of my sense of the Christian spiritual life, however, is the dynamic of relationship. This is so much a part of my life and ministry that people frequently refer to ‘the “r’” word’ when I’m part of conversations about faith. Because of this ‘r word’ core, for me, the spiritual life of a Christian can’t be defined by particular doctrines. People can have relationships with God and ‘believe’ different things. Equally, this spiritual life can’t be confined to a set of ‘rules’. Therefore, it can’t be static and unchanging. Doctrines and laws can be unchanging and static, but not so relationships. Relationships are living realities and so must be dynamic and changing – growing or dying, or even both really: ‘Unless a grain of wheat fall into the ground and die it cannot bear fruit’. The spiritual life as relational – at least as I’ve experienced it – is a process. It’s a process of change and, I hope, of growth. It isn’t, of course, always an easy or straightforward process. It’s more often than not a bit complex. If you were to look at my Facebook profile, under the heading ‘Religious views’ it just says ‘It’s complicated’. On November 15th 31 years ago today, I was ordained a priest in the Anglican Church of Canada. A few Novembers before that, during a retreat at Mount Sinai House of Prayer in Winnipeg, I wrote something which came out of my wrestling with my sense of ‘calling’ – my sense of ‘vocation’ – in this direction. Merton’s Bells I hear their crying. It sounds like Merton’s bells to me – like bells on a blue sky morning calling me to walk with you among your people, calling me to walk as one of them on behalf of you and on behalf of them calling me to meet you face to face. I hear their crying. It sounds like Merton’s bells to me – like bells on a blue sky morning calling me to walk with you among your people as a shepherd in the scattered flock of God. I hear their crying – their dying pain. It sounds like Merton’s bells to me – like bells on any sky morning when clouds allow no light. I hear their crying with tears falling one by one into some apocalyptic vial of your memory. It sounds like Merton’s bells to me. I hear their silence. It sounds like Merton’s bells to me – calling me to walk among them, among your people who can no longer cry. I hear their laughter. It sounds like Merton’s bells to me. I hear their anger, And it sounds like Merton’s bells. I hear your people. They sound like Merton’s bells to me – calling me to come die and live with you among your people. The writings of Thomas Merton – a Cistercian monk – have been very influential in my life and formation. Somewhere he had written something about hearing the monetary bells calling him to prayer and to remembering God’s presence throughout the day. Part of that experience was, for him, as well as for me, a sense of being a part of the Body of Christ, the People of God. (This was very unlike John Bunyan, the Puritan author of Pilgrim’s Progress, who determined that he had to give up ringing the church bells because it gave him too much pleasure.) This anniversary has prompted a retrospect for me. I’ve been thinking back, and reflecting over, these years, not only as an Anglican/Episcopal priest, but before that as a pastor in another church – another denomination. Indeed, looking back over my spiritual journey as a whole. I can identify with the people of Israel wandering in the desert wilderness for a long time. In the biblical story it takes them 40 years to go a few weeks – months at the most – travel distance. (40 is a Hebrewism that simply means ‘a long time’, as we might say ‘for a dog’s age’ or some such expression – ‘a month of Sundays’.) It’s been a journey of picking stuff up, as well as of leaving stuff behind. It has been a process of learning to move on. Right not it’s particularly poignant as we physically sort through so much accumulated ‘stuff’ and ‘downsize’ in preparation to move. This sorting, however, reminds me of ideas, beliefs and perspectives that have come or gone over the years. In this sense, I guess the Christian spiritual life is one of constant repentance. I don’t mean ‘repentance’ not just – not even primarily in common understanding of ‘repentance’ as regret or sorrow for ‘things done or left undone’. It’s not even first a matter of changing direction, which is also a common understanding of repentance There’s plenty of those things, to be sure. I’m not a fan of modern country and western music, but there is a song by Kenny Chesney that I do like – with which I can identify: ‘I’d done a lot of things different./ People say they wouldn’t change a thing, even if they could./Oh, but I would’. There’s plenty of that, but what I mean by a life – a process – of ‘constant repentance’ is more in the biblical sense of ‘thinking beyond’ (which is what the word in the original language literally means). ‘Repentance’ would probably be better translated as ‘rethinking’. This rethinking in the biblical writings isn’t just an intellectual exercise, however, but a rethinking that leads to ‘redirection’ – to altering course. When I am canoeing, I keep my eyes on a spot along the shore as a destination. This helps me stay on course, with the jay stroke the primary means of making minor adjustments. If there’s a current or wind, however, sometimes I get so off course that a major reset is needed. The minor corrections are usually a lot easier than the major ones. In the biblical writings the word most commonly translated as ‘sin’ is an archery term that means to ‘miss the mark’ – to miss the target. In terms of my canoeing, it means to get off course. The difference between shooting an arrow or navigating a body of water in a canoe it that when one gets off course in relationships it’s not just a mechanical readjustment needed to get back on course. In my experience of counseling – and training as a counselor – I have encountered quite a number of people who assume that’s how the process works. When a car needs a tune up, you open the hood, adjust a few things and go on your way, so when a person needs a ‘tune up’, you open their head, so to speak, tweak a few things and get on with the rest of life. That’s not really how it works. The biblical notion of living and growing in the spiritual life is likened to wrestling. Indeed, the name “Israel’ means ‘wrestles with God’. The name applied most often to the Hebrew people of God – ‘Israel’ – means ‘people who wrestle with God’. It’s not just 10 rounds, either. It’s not just following the stars or reading a map. The Christian spiritual journey – the ‘relationship-with-Go journey’ – involves what I would call a mystical factor that defies having it all laid our – fixed or determined. There’s an ‘unknowness’ about it which makes it more like a choose-your-own-adventure experience. Think of Jesus’s conversation with Nicodemus. At one point Jesus tells him that the Spirit of God is like the wind that blows, and no one can tell from where it’s come or to where it’s going. There’s a verse in Proverbs that says something like: the heart of a person makes plans, but God orders the steps. Then again, in Jesus’ last conversation with Peter, he tells him that when he was young he went where he wanted and did what he wanted, but when he is old, someone will put a belt on his, leading him where he doesn’t necessarily want to go. This spiritual journey – walking with God, following Jesus – very often takes us ‘off the map’. I have a GPS that says to me, when I’ve not updated the maps and the roads of been altered: ‘Are you sure you want to be off roading?’ The spiritual journey takes us ‘off roading’; it takes us off our life maps into the unknown. On older maps, at the edge of the known world, was a space labeled; ‘There Be Dragons’. Because it’s an unknown, and therefore uncertain and risky – potentially even dangerous – territory, it can feel uncomfortable. ‘Uncomfortable’ might even be an understatement. Think of the experience of Paul. He was trotting along the road to Damascus with murder on his mind and in his zealous heart. Then BAM! God shows up. More specifically, Jesus shows up. I think he might have been ok with a burning bush, or even with a talking donkey. Those things would have fit the stories he’d imbibed since childhood. But Jesus? Not so much. He was trying with all the zealous integrity of a Pharisee to stamp out those followers of Jesus – those heretics. BAM! Jesus shows up and suddenly Paul – who was still Saul at that point – has to go off the map, so to speak – off the maps of his religious tradition and training – off the maps of his spiritual worldview. This experience pushed him way beyond any of his comfort zones and off the map. But, instead of dragons, he finds a lamb – the Lamb of God. Instead of dragons, he finds a lion – the Lion of Judah. It’s a hard reset for him – such a hard reset that it’s like dying and rising again. Suddenly the old way is passing and a new way is coming. He’s confronted with the unfamiliar, with the unknown and with something so far beyond what he thought or believed that it’s stunning and blinding. I think also of those who were instructed by God to receive him. They were terrified. For them, too, following the leading of God – the prompting of the Holy Spirit – mean doing some serious ‘off roading’. This isn’t what they signed up for! When they open the door, however, they don’t find the captain of the secret police, breathing out persecution and death. Instead, they find a blinded, unimpressive guy who needs this little community to help him see Jesus in a new way. They were to help him begin a new way of thinking, a new way of living and a new way of relating. Eventually the chief persecutor becomes the chief defender of Jesus and advocate of trust – of faith – in him. This one who set out to crush these little gatherings of those who were followers of the Way – the Way of Jesus – this one becomes the main community planner, establishing more little communities of faith as he went along. I get that. In part, I get that because of my encounter with Christ when I was a 16-year-old party animal who took delight in mocking and arguing with Christians. That is, I did until Jesus showed up in the hidden guise of two long-haired, sandal-wearing ‘Jesus freaks’ who just talked about a living God and living in relationship with God by coming to know Jesus. Paul wasn’t expecting it. I wasn’t expecting it. He wrote to some early Christians – actually in the first of the Christian scriptures to be written – the First Letter to the Thessalonians: ‘Now when it comes to specific times and dates, my sisters and brothers .... you yourselves know very well that the day of the Lord will come like a midnight robber.’ Unexpected. Unlooked for. Maybe even unwanted. But, unlike the thief who comes only to steal and to kill and to destroy, this Lord comes with life – abundant life – life as a foretaste of life in the age to come – sometimes rendered ‘eternal life’. I can only imagine that this was hard for Paul, the zealous persecutor. It was hard for me, the cynical mocker. Sometimes, however, I think it is even harder for the ‘religious person’ who has heard Bible stories and listened to Christian preaching and experienced Christian worship all along. I so often hear people say: ‘Well, I don’t really have a story. Nothing has really happened to me like happened to you or to Paul. I don’t really have a story.’ Yet isn’t that a great story? Some of us have to be blinded by the light before we can see it. Some of us have to get to the darkest place in life in order to see the spark of God’s light – God’s love. To have been all along slowly growing in relationship with God? What a great story! Neither story is, however, a safe one because God doesn’t always do well with maps. God doesn’t always stick to scripts, but improvises. God doesn’t always stick to the score, but sings a new song. God doesn’t always do what is expected, but does a new thing – shows up in the most expected places, is unanticipated ways, in unlikely people. A number of years ago, a friend of mine, Steve Bell – along with two other friends, Gord Johnson and Larry Campbell – recorded an album they called ‘Unlikely Icon’. An icon is something through which we catch a glimpse of the invisible God. God shows up in such unlikely icons as me, as you, as Southwick Community Episcopal Church. Godspeed, George |