Lent - Year C -- 2019
Indexed by Date. Sermons for Lent Year C
Deuteronomy 26: 1-11
Psalm 91
Luke 4: 1-13
Have you ever heard someone say this, “Children have it so easy these days! Why, when I was young, ............”? Have you ever heard one of those things yourself? A former parishioner mimicked his grandfather’s friends, “Why I walked six miles to school and six miles back, and it was UPHILL- BOTH ways!” Have you ever said something like this to someone younger?
Of course, each generation has its own challenges and does not want to hear how hard it was then, in contrast to how easy it is now! Yet, it IS important to hear the stories that made our families who they were. In fact this is one of Ancestry.ca’s selling points. A recent ad proclaims, “our ancestors will never know us, but we can know them.” As well, almost everyone whose parents are gone probably have the experience of wishing they could have one more conversation with them about the “old days” or ask one more question about the people in those old photos we once thought so boring! Sometimes we need to know stuff we should have asked years ago. One question I would like to ask my grandmother, who died in 1984 is, “what did it feel like to set out for Saskatchewan in 1916?” The question more now!!!! I am moving to Saskatchewan in May.
When I am doing marriage preparation with couples, one thing they need to tell me, for the forms and records, is their parents’ names and birthplaces. Of course 100 % of people know where they themselves were born but when you ask “where were your parents’ born,” some have no clue at all. How many of you have gotten a phone call, “Mom, we’re meeting with the minister and she needs to know where you were born!” Then I ask, “what was your mother’s maiden name?” MANY don’t know that. If this is the case, and to avoid the second phone call, I ask, “well what are your grandparents last names?” and it is as if a giant light goes on. They finally get it: “if Mom’s parents are Bob and Jane Jones there is a good chance that Mom was a Jones before she was married to Dad.” To be fair this is far more common for young couples in their 20s than for older couples but it just shows how little importance is attached to such matters in some families.
In the book of Deuteronomy, the people of Israel are told they are to be a people who remember their history - not the specific details about their personal family, but the details of the epic story about the family of Israel. They are not only, to remember these things, but also, to recite them on a regular basis. They are not only, to recite them, but also, to give thanks in a formal and ritual way. They are, not only, to say these things, but also, to share with those who are less able to fend for themselves - as part of that ritual. They are to include the aliens or those we might call, “foreign workers,” and the Levites, a “landless class”.
In our culture, many people place a great deal of value on the “person who came from nothing and becomes extremely wealthy”. Yet, if you really think about it, I don’t think there is anyone in this country at least, who is truly “self-made.” Take a person who has worked hard and become wealthy in business. Every business requires extensive and expensive infrastructure, (such as a road system, a power grid and a communications system), a tax structure that supports it’s growth, workers who make the product, a distribution chain, and finally consumers.
Inventions and even innovation are cumulative and all rely on what has gone before. Even Mr Dyson knew he wanted to make a better vacuum cleaner than what had gone before. He had to be dissatisfied with the shortcomings of regular vacuum cleaners in order to make a better one! (And to justify the higher price!!!) His vacuum depended on Hoover’s.
So, here in the book of Deuteronomy, we have a people, poised on the edge of the land of promise, and asked to remember and regularly recite their history. It is not just any part of their history, it is the history of how God “big picture” of how called and supported and indeed, made, the people who they had become. AND they are specifically warned against giving themselves the credit for their success.
This passage, part of what is presented as a very long sermon by Moses, instructs them to adopt an “attitude of gratitude” with regard to life in this new “land of promise”.
When they were in the wilderness and ate only manna, they were in little danger of forgetting God (even though they loved to complain) but now that they had to plant the crops, weed the crops, water the crops, and harvest the crops - they were in danger of thinking they deserved all the credit. Their food was going to require a lot of work on their part; it was no longer going to just appear on the ground. But there was much more to it than their work and effort alone.
They were called to remember their God, to maintain their attitude of gratitude, to keep focussed on the bigger picture, and to give thanks - and part of this thanksgiving was sharing part of their bounty with others.
In this recitation they were also reminded of the “long view”. They were in the wilderness for 40 years, an entire generation, but the promise had come to their ancestor, this wandering Aramean, many GENERATIONS before. I believe this is a reference to Jacob whose 12 sons became the “founders” of the tribes of Israel. Yet, a major theme of that story was patience and trusting in the promise.
When we elect governments on a mandate of “change” we only give them a few years to make real progress. We tend to give them a second mandate to extend their success but if we don’t see what we are looking for, we toss them out and elect someone else. Would we elect someone on the promise that we will get there eventually? What if the leader of the party seeking election said, “I don’t say how long it will take us, but we will get there. Give us 50 years. Read my lips. Your grandchildren will be able to count on us”. Good thing Moses did not have to face an election every 5 years!
While this passage is addressed to the children of Israel, it talks about including, as a beneficiary, as it were, those who were not part of the family, presumably because they too needed to eat.
As Canadians we are defined in some ways by our “social safety net”, primarily our medicare system. We believe that the delivery of health-care itself should not be “for profit”, yet long waiting lists and doctor shortages, among other things, are causing some to wonder if the whole system should not be re-vamped.
As someone who cannot remember Canada before medicare I find it very strange when I hear American election debates in which some are against medicare as being “undemocratic”. For some, it smacks of socialism - in the worst ways possible.
I was listening to something on CBC radio on Friday morning as I got ready to go the office and one of the things I heard was that “Americans are becoming more receptive to some forms of socialism even as Canadians are becoming less so.” Interesting!
As I have said, part of the thanksgiving ritual involves reciting a paragraph that begins, “A wandering Aramean, was my ancestor....” I have read that the phrase “wandering Aramean” was a derogatory term, similar to something like, “destitute vagrant”.
There is a lot of controversy these days about immigration, I believe it is mostly because most immigrants these days aren’t western European and English speaking. I saw something on Facebook quite some time ago where this woman who was “anti-immigration” wanted to distinguish between today’s “immigrants” who were “no good” and her ancestors who were “settlers” and obviously “hardworking and the backbone of this country.” I wasn’t convinced!
In Canada those of us who are of European descent need to remember that we are all immigrants - our ancestors came to this land from other places - and our forebears were not all that kind to those who were already here.
We have been learning that our ancestors made treaties with our “first peoples;” treaties that were by and large ignored. Now we are acting toward other immigrant groups as if this land had been ours forever and we OWNED it outright.
Even possessing the land, in the view of this passage, is not supposed to imply, “its MINE and I can do as I please with it.” We are to possess it as something we tend to, care for and steward for someone who is the true owner. How the people of Israel came to treat the original inhabitants is another sad tale far beyond the scope of this sermon.
In the age of realizing that human activity has caused unwelcome climate change we need to remember that we do not inherit this place from our ancestors, we borrow it from our children. Perhaps Lent is a time for us to ponder what true thanksgiving for our blessings also means in a time of repenting the damage we have done to the planet.
In Hantsport your ancestors may have been New England Planters who were, I believe, invited here by Governor Lawrence to take the place of the Acadians who had been expelled. In dealing with the First Nations Peoples, the “English” were much less conciliatory than the Acadians. This is part of the history of this area.
While we cannot give thanks for all that happened, we cannot turn back the clock. Yet, it must inform our actions so that we can go into the future with more faithfulness and a better sense of our calling into the future.
We need to translate this passage into our time if we are to make passages such as this come alive. Just as Jesus went into the wilderness to determine who he was and how he was going to conduct his ministry, we have to decide if our tradition will be utilized for our convenience or if it will challenge us to greater faithfulness, better stewardship and a greater sense of gratitude or if it will just pat ourselves on our own backs and be like “Little Jack Horner.” You know him.-
“Little Jack Horner sat in the corner eating a Christmas pie he put in his thumb and pulled out a plum and said what a good boy am I.”
In Lent, part of our journey is to look around us and take a longer and broader view. We are not self-made and we do not exist in a bubble. We live lives connected to the generations before us and the generations yet to come. We are connected with the “aliens” , whomever they may be for us in this time and place.
We are also called to a journey of faith and trust and not to one of fear. I think that we have a fear of not having enough if we take this “sharing thing” too seriously. I asked a church member one day if he was a “glass half empty or glass half full” type of person and he said something like, “Oh, I just get a smaller glass and it’s always running over.”
May we be led on our journey by a sense of where we have been and trust in the God who has blessed us bountifully and who also leads us forward into a future where we can give thanks and share our blessings with others.
Amen.
Genesis 15: 1-12, 17-18
Psalm 27
Luke 13: 31-35
A number of years ago the Swiss Chalet Restaurant in Truro re-opened after renovations and in order to entice people to come in, see the new decor and try their menu, an employee dressed in a chicken suit was sent out to the sidewalk to jump up and down and gesture at approaching cars in the hopes of enticing them to come in and eat, chicken! It was hilarious. This fowl employee looked really “into” his or her designated task, but I suppose was really glad that, unlike this picture, his or her face was not visible. On the next shift no customer would be able to say, “I saw you yesterday; cute chicken suit!” Most adults would not readily admit that they aspire to wear a chicken suit, or a penguin suit for that matter. Maybe y’all know who the human inside Chilly Willy is, our local Winter Carnival Mascot but Willy does not speak - so who can really tell !
Yet, Jesus, in today’s gospel passage refers to himself as a “hen”, longing to gather her chicks around her in protective love.
I read a story a number of years ago about a farmer whose farm was consumed by a wildfire. - When he left with very little notice he could not take anything with him. When he returned to the farm everything was black, black, black. As he wandered through what was had been his farmyard he saw one of his hens, curled up in a blackened ball. He walked over and kicked the charcoaled mass with his boot and it rolled away, making a light, crunching kind of noise, as he expected. But then, completely unexpectedly, out of the charred mass of feathers sprang six little yellow chicks. Apparently, as the fire approached, the hen had gathered her brood together, to protect them from the flames. She died but the chicks lived.
We understand this parental instinct in humans. We all know about the devastating fire in Spryfield about a month ago in which a man was badly burned in an unsuccessful attempt to rescue his seven children.
Young children know the miraculous healing power of their mom’s kiss - but as that child grows those kisses begin to lose their magic. I’m not sure if teenage heartbreak is harder on the teen undergoing it, or on the parent who knows they are powerless to do anything but love their child through it. The parents sometimes wish they could take the pain away by gathering their once baby into their arms and “kissing it better”.
As children grow into teens and young adults who seem to jump at every opportunity to make poor choices, the parent may wish for those days when they could gather their offspring in their arms and ensure their safety and guide them in the right choices. Parents can wait a long time for the child to return to the “way in which he or she was raised”. Sometimes the parent sits, head in hands, singing along with Pete Seeger, singling softly, “when will they ever learn? when will they ever learn?”
As we continue in the season of Lent we accompany Jesus as he journeys toward Jerusalem and what might very well turn into a final showdown with the authorities. He would certainly not be the first prophet to suffer because of his ministry. He would not be the first prophet to despair, “when will they finally get it?”
In the season of Lent we do a great deal of reflecting on the theme of journeying - the gospel invites us to “come along with Jesus” as he journeys toward Jerusalem. In our reading from the older testament, the patriarch, Abraham, is given a promise. According to the story, this the first of many steps in the long journey of Abraham and his descendants as they seek a relationship with the God who has chosen them to be a “light to the nations”.
I’m not much of a sports fan, except when my nephew is “on the ice,” but avid fans have their favourites and as each season of each sport is played there are lots of predictions about who will win. We all know the jokes about the Maple Leaf’s chances of hoisting Lord Stanley’s Cup, which they have not done since 1967!
I don’t know about you, but if I were going to pick a couple to be the ancestor of a mighty nation I would not start with an elderly couple with no children! Seems like a no-brainer to me! Yet, the story, as we have it tells us that God chose the most unlikely couple and asked that they trust in a promise.
Part of what this says to me is that the journey of faith operates on principles that can be very different from what the rest of our culture considers important.
It is interesting that, on this day, Jesus chose the metaphor of a hen with her chicks to describe his care for Jerusalem. He wanted to take their waywardness and gather them in, to God’s ways, like a chicken gathers her chicks.
While a chicken may look unsubstantial, in contrast with other birds, we should not underestimate the strength of a hen when put to the test. The story about the hen protecting her chicks I told you earlier is just one example.
Not that long ago we read the Psalm that referred to the strength of an eagle’s wings. Yes, says the Psalmist, our God is this strong, this majestic. Writing to a discouraged people the Psalmist says they can soar with eagles if they rely on the strength of almighty God. Look at those wings - look at that seemingly effortless flight - look at that freedom.
Yet, the power of Rome was often represented by an Eagle - often on a tall pole carried by a standard bearer as he led a contingent of soldiers with at least the centurions having plumed helmets and riding fine horses.
By contrast we have Jesus, who admits to the heart of a mother hen, who will soon ride into the city on a donkey. Almost everything about Jesus is different and these differences matter.
In this passage, Jesus is told by some Pharisees with questionable motives, to stay away from Jerusalem because Herod was out to get him. No doubt Jesus is suspicious of these hidden motives, (He’s encountered these guys before) and is not about to take the bait. I get a chuckle out of his reply: “go and tell that fox.” Country folks know that foxes, as pretty as they look, are enemies of chickens, particularly the back-ward and free-range kind.
The way of Herod, the fox in the henhouse, is one of “power over”, of “control”, but the way of Jesus is the way of a God who has cared for creation for countless generations.
“Go and tell that fox that I have been healing people of all that keeps them from a life giving relationship with God. Go and tell that fox that my mind is made up; I have my mission and my journey is set. By the way, you (Herod) will never win. Oh, at the outset, you will think I have been put in my place but the reality is that I will put you in yours.”
Lent is a journey of the long view, a journey through the wilderness trusting that there will be an Easter.
When we look at the priorities and values of the Herods and of the prophets we see stark contrasts -
We see a world where hate is allowed to flourish and a world where hate is resisted with love. I’m told that people in Christchurch and other places were warned to stay away from mosques in the wake of the recent massacre in that far away city - but it did not stop people of ALL faiths, and none, from gathering in love, hope and solidarity. Im told that there was a police presence at a Halifax mosque on Friday to protect the worshippers there.
Yet the signs at one such vigil remind us that tears and words are not enough - we must actively resist Islamophobia. As a people of Christian faith we must say that such hate, such actions are not the way of Jesus of Nazareth.
As we journey through Lent, and contemplate Jesus’ message, we need to decide whose side we are on. Are we with him and his message or are we are with those who oppose him out of fear or our own vested interests?
Two thousand years after these events we in the church usually need to be reminded that starting a new religion was never on Jesus’ agenda. He lived and died a faithful son of Abraham - continuing the journey and living the promise that was first given to Abram many generations before and picked up by countless prophets. If anything, he wanted to call people back to the core of their faith - to what was most important. We must also remind ourselves that Muslims honour all the same prophets we do, including Jesus of Nazareth.
Stephen Hawking, one of the most influential physicists since Albert Einstein, though not a person of faith, offers us wisdom for our lenten journey if we chose to take it,
“Remember to look up at the stars and not down at your feet. Try to make sense of what you see and wonder about what makes the universe exist. Be curious. And however difficult life may seem, there is always something you can do and succeed at. It matters that you don't just give up.”
When I was in grade 12, “grade 12 skip day” was an excuse to cut classes on a certain day and celebrate our almost graduation.
On Friday I was listening to the CBC and apparently March 15 had been designated an international day to skip school and rally against climate change. And it’s not just students in Grade 12. It began with a single teenager protesting climate change, making changes in her own life, and encouraging others to join her. Where it will go, only time will tell.
So lets continue on our Lenten journey - curious about where it will take us; realizing that the values of the world are often not that of Jesus; and trusting that just as God chose one elderly couple to become the ancestors of promise, we too, though few in number, can make a difference.
Amen!
Isaiah 55: 1-9
Psalm 63
Luke 13: 1-9
It seems that each and every day the news is full of stories of disasters, calamities, crimes and tragedy. A month ago a house fire in Spryfield claimed the lives of seven children. Those innocent children did nothing to deserve that!
A jet crashed in Ethiopia on March 10, killing everyone on board, including a number of Canadians. No one on that airplane deserved that!
Just over a week ago, on Friday March 13 a gunman opened fire on worshippers in two mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand, - fifteen and one half thousand kilometres from here, - killing 50 people and wounding just as many more. None of them were deserving of that!
In addition, it seems that there are always stories of natural disasters such as floods, cyclones, and mud slides which take lives, destroy property and uproot entire communities. The people suffering from those calamities are guilty of nothing more than living or being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Of course these kinds of things are not new. The entire city of Pompeii was buried by a volcanic eruption around the time the gospel of Luke was being written. Were they deserving of such a fate?
In the gospel story for today some people brought Jesus news of a massacre. This time it was not a crazed madman peppering a place of worship with round after round of ammunition, but sword carrying soldiers of a cruel despot trying to exercise control over the people. It happened during their holiest time of worship - the offering of a sacrifice. This would certainly not be the last time this kind of thing would happen.
In 1980 the Roman Catholic Archbishop of San Salvador, Oscar Romero, was assassinated by a death squad as he presided at the altar.
A number of mass shootings in recent times have happened while those targeted were at worship. Other than jumbo jets, high schools and malls, attacking a worship service gives the highest number of casualties! Yet, attacking people at places of worship or at schools, which should be places of safety, seems especially egregious. We call the worship space a “sanctuary” for a reason. When a sanctuary becomes a place of death, we reel in horror.
On the day in question, Jesus himself offered another instance of tragedy - the tower of Siloam had fallen and killed 18. Even without Facebook, television and newspapers EVERYONE would have known about it. No doubt many had their opinions. Why do bad things happen?
Some would argue that it must be “their fault”. Sometimes it is. Sometimes someone else is clearly at fault. Sometimes things are a little murkier. If there is a perpetrator who has survived, some people want that person tried, convicted and sentenced to the harshest possible sentence. Some are forgiving. Most, inbetween.
But, the deeper questions in the minds of many though go beyond the event being “God’s punishment” or of “finding fault”. I know a lot of people believe that “it was their time” when someone dies in an accident or tragedy.
What else can we say when we feel powerless and vulnerable? “It was their time.” We thirst for satisfying answers. It also gives some people a certain amount of comfort to believe that “everything happens for a reason”, and that reason is controlled by God.
Yet, that attitude can give people a false sense of security. It can make them feel superior to the poor schmos who have deserved the awful fate that just befell them. “They must have done something really bad.”
People who think that way may also say something like: “I’m not going to use a seat-belt because if it’s not my time, it’s not my time.” or, “I’m not quitting smoking because if it’s my time, it’s my time and quitting smoking won’t make any difference!” Or they may stretch things a little further and say things such as, “God got me stuck in a traffic jam or I would have been on that plane that crashed. God must want me to live. I must be doing something right.”
My response to that would be, “What about all those other people who died - was God finished with them? Did God want them to die? Why didn’t the plane get a flat tire while taxiing to the end of the runway to take off? No one would have been hurt!” I cannot believe in a God who treats human beings like puppets, magically managing to get all the “right” people on a doomed plane at the “right” time (or shall we say the wrong time).
In response to these unspoken assumptions, Jesus takes the bull by the horns and says, “don’t even think that you are better than they because you are still here. They weren’t any worse sinners than anyone else. Everyone, including you, must repent.
By “repent”, Jesus does not mean “confessing sins and feeling sorry”, in a moralistic kind of way, but turning and going in a new direction. You see, when we focus on the sins of others as a reason for their misfortune, we pat ourselves on the back and say, “they are not OK but I’m doing great.”
I for one am glad that I don’t live in the areas of Africa that experienced the recent flooding and mud slides, but I did nothing “right” other than be born where I was - I did not chose my parents, my heritage.
Neither did I chose to be born in a place relatively safe from natural disasters and with an abundance of resources and favourable weather for growing crops. That was not my doing. Why do I feel we should “own” all of those benefits and keep them for ourselves?
We need to repent of the idea that we have no connection with “those people” whoever “those people” are. Our church and the Red Cross have programs in place to send essential aid to many of the devastated communities in Mozambique, Malawi and Zimbabwe. We need to repent of our feelings of helplessness; as individuals we cant do much, but as a people we can do a great deall
We need to repent of the idea that we are all individual, isolated islands on this fragile planet. As we learn more and more about weather patterns we learn that what we are doing here in North America has an effect on small island countries around the world. Our waste is becoming their problem and our changing how we live may be the difference between life and death for them. I don’t know about this specific disaster, but in the past few years more and more scientists are making such connections. Are we willing to look at ourselves and change; are we willing to repent and go in a new direction.
When we look at the attacks on innocent worshippers we need to look at the causes of these attacks. I thirst for the answer to the question, “What kind of atmosphere produces such mass murderers? What kind of atmosphere produces such racism?”
The society that feels bad when a teenager goes and shoots fellow students at a school and does nothing to help students with bullying, mental health issues and gun control has not repented. While there are more of such events in the USA than in Canada, we have had both. There is no justification for our feeling smug.
Part of our collective repentance is taking a look at violent crime against minorities right here and trying to foster an environment where racism and fear of the other cannot thrive. It begins with attitudes; attitudes which eventually result in actions.
The society that feels bad after a mosque shooting but does not condemn racism and white supremacy and lax gun controls has not repented.
I was very pleased to see that New Zealand has acted quickly to ban military style assault rifles in the wake of the shootings in Christchurch. I was very pleased to read that many non-middle eastern women, including the Prime Minister, have been wearing headscarves as a sign of solidarity with their Moslem sisters. On Friday, as I went to work I heard a number of Muslims from New Zealand interviewed and every person said they forgave the shooter. I find that humbling. I sometimes thirst for that kind of grace.
Forgiveness does not mean there will be no consequences for this person but instead it means that the victims or the families do not carry the burden of hatred around with them and wishing for the “guilty” , life, healing and the love of God. Forgiveness does not mean saying, “what you did was ok” but it does mean, in some way, letting go.
Of course, forgiveness sometimes takes a long time - if can be a long journey. German pastor and theologian Martin Niemöller, imprisoned by the Nazis for his opposition of Hitler’s treatment of the Jews, said, “It took me a long time to realize that God is not the enemy of my enemies and that God is not even the enemy of his enemies.
It’s all too easy to look at other families, other communities, and other countries and pat ourselves on the back for our superior ways - but in this passage Jesus will have none of it. It’s all too easy to poke fun at the USA where you can buy a gun almost anywhere but you cant buy a Kinfer Surprise - but Jesus isn’t interested in such attempts to let ourselves off lightly.
Everyone must repent, says Jesus.
Everyone must check their spiritual GPS and determine if changes in direction are needed.
This passage also goes on to talk about the work of growing communities which bear good fruit - Part of what this parable says to us is that our God is in this relationship with us for the long haul. God does not give up on us easily; God is a God of second and third chances.
As we seek repentance we can be thankful for that!
Amen.
Luke 15: 1-3, 11b -32
Introduction:
The biblical passage that most people call, “the Parable of the Prodigal Son” was one of many parables crafted by Jesus to teach people about God’s ways. This one was the last of a set of three about “lost things.” So just pretend for a few minutes that those people were real. Who knows, Jesus may have had a real family in mind. The people who heard it were most likely reminded of themselves or people they knew. The message is just as true.
Hello! Let me introduce myself - My name is Miriam and when I was much younger I was the servant girl for a well off family who had two sons -
I worked in the house. When the men were outside, I helped the master’s wife with the cooking and the cleaning. I mostly kept my ears open and my lips sealed.
I went to work for them when the woman was expecting her first child. They were like most young couples, I suppose. They had great hopes for a large family - one with many sons and daughters to make them proud, to make their farm prosperous and improve their standing in the community.
Their oldest boy, Jacob, was named after his grandfather who had died just after the couple were married. When he was born they thought he was just the perfect baby. You would have thought he was the first child to get a new tooth or take his first steps! I suppose they were no different than most parents in that regard.
Then he grew into a big strapping toddler - he loved pounding nails with big hammers and using plows and hoes and stuff that was as big as he was. He would lead the calves and mommas around on pieces of twine. When he was old enough to go to school he loved it when his grandfather’s friends would tell him how proud the old man would be if he were still alive. Like many boys he couldn’t wait to become a man.
Well, I better back up a bit and tell you about the young one, Adam. Well, after the first boy was weaned my mistress had a few miscarriages and they thought they might never have another child. But, finally a second baby boy came along and they were so happy. They named him after the mother’s dad this time.
He was a happy smiling baby. He was a little on the small side, not tall and burly like the older one. He loved to help around the house but he didn’t much like the cows and goats; not like Jacob did anyway. He was thoughtful and always asked his mom and me if we needed help. His dad had a small pail made just for him and he helped us carry buckets of water from the well.
When he got older he liked running back to the well and talking to the traders that came to water their camels. His eyes would get really big when he described those far off lands to his mother and father.
His dad was young once, and also had itchy feet, but he was sure Adam would grow out of that curiosity.
BUT his big brother was like a wet blanket and he kept telling him the traders were exaggerating and to focus on the farm here at home. It seemed that he tried as hard as he could to crush his younger brother’s spirit. I felt for Adam.
As the young one grew his mother could tell that he wasn’t really happy - his dad, not so much. A momma knows, and she would tell me. He did well in school but he wanted more. He had ants in his pants. He had a wanderlust - like Abraham of long ago. This place was just too small for him.
I suppose I should have known that something was brewing but I was too young myself to really know and it wasn’t my business. Besides, I didn’t understand much about boys.
One day I came in from getting water and the master and his wife were having a heated discussion. Apparently, the boy had come home from the market with a request; no a demand, really.
This lovely sweet boy,
this shining star in their lives,
this miracle child had gone to his dad and said “Give me my inheritance. I want out of here for good.”
His father offered to apprentice him out to a man of business in one of the cities that caught his fancy; he had connections, after all!
his father offered him a trip,
but no - he said that he didn’t plan on coming back
he wanted his inheritance.
He wanted his inheritance.
I understand more now that I did then about that request and why it was so upsetting.
Now, I know that really meant.
You see, he might as well have said to his father, “I wish you were dead. Give me what I will get then. I want it now.”
So when I got home the dad and mom were sitting in the house with the door shut and my mistress was in tears and the man was quite upset.
Finally, he got out a paper and did some calculations and made a list when he was all done his figuring.
He showed it to his wife, “I could sell this, this and this.... That would give Adam his 1/3.”
That’s right, when there were 2 sons, the younger one got a third. The older one got two thirds.
That’s the way it worked.
Another thing I didn’t know until later was that selling property and animals and farm equipment was slow business. You offered them for so much and someone counter offered a much lower bid and you haggled, for weeks maybe, until you came to an agreement. This transaction was done almost instantly. He took a big loss, the mistress told me.
I saw him packing - the boy took none of his mementos, none of his boyhood treasures, not even his beautiful prayer shawl with the tassels, not his prayer boxes, hid phylactyeries, just his best clothes, extra sandals and a walking stick. He almost snatched the money bag from his father’s hand - but he gave his mom a hug and ..........then he walked down the road;
he never looked back.
Long after he was out of sight they stood in the doorway, master standing behind her, his arms embracing her. She was crying; he wasn’t. Men don’t cry after all, but I think he wanted to. I could tell - even then.
The older boy came in from the fields and said “well it’s all over town, what a steal Abe got when he bought our land. They say that you are too soft on Adam. They say that you should have had him beaten. They say you are insane. One good thing now, is that he can’t get anything more, he’s done sponging off this family.”
“What’s for supper, I’m hungry.”
That’s all he said. So I put supper on the table and he ate enough for two.
His mom and dad. They ate nothing!
Anthem: “My Love Colours Outside the Lines”
Hi again. Let me tell you more of my story.
Not long after the younger brother left, we started to hear stories. The traders that came to the village seemed to have lots of stories about the rich Jewish boy who had a following of fair weather friends.
They said that he acted like his money would never run out. He would pick up the tab at parties and bought fine clothes.
When the older boy came home from the market he just loved to remind his dad how the brat was wasting his money on wine, women and song.
This went on for quite a while - then we heard that, that far off country had a crop failure and lots of people could not get work. It was not great around here either. My master did okay but the crop just so-so.
About this time we heard that the famine was really bad in that far off place and AT THE SAME time the boy had just burned through all his money. The local landowners knew he was a spoiled rich kid and they did not hire him - there were too many others looking for work, too many local men with good work histories and families to feed.
However, there was one man who needed someone to look after a herd of pigs. PIGS. Just listen to the sound of that word - PIGS (snort) PIGS are unclean animals according to the law of Moses. My master had sheep, goats and calves. They are all clean animals. He would never keep pigs.
Anyway we also heard that the guy that hired him kept a close watch on the feed and he told him not to go eating the pig food. Pigs are fed mostly on scraps and carob pods, we are told. You would have to be very hungry to eat those!
Well my master tried to focus on his farm but he spent a lot of time looking down the road. He got excited every time he spotted someone coming but once he realized it was a stranger his smile vanished.
Every day he looked, hoping - for what, I didn’t know.
The older boy worked hard, but his attitude did not improve. Technically, all of his father’s remaining property was his but he was the good son, he had to wait for nature to take its course. Maybe he was jealous.
He was distant, angry - waiting till he could run things his own way. Young men are like that, I’m told; always thinking they can do a better at farming than dear ol’ dad.
Hymn: O Love How Deep 348 VU
Remember I told you that the old man looked down the road just about every day -
day after day -
after day -
then one day he was looking down the road as usual but then he let out this yell -
this cry of pure joy
he called to his wife,
“come quickly honey”
“it’s him, it’s really him.”
Then he did something I had never seen a grown man do - not before nor since - he picked up his robes and he ran to meet the figure coming down the road.
He RAN - like a boy. It was very undignified.
Then I saw why he was so excited,
I saw HIM
I could tell that walk anywhere
it was the boy - it was Adam
his clothes were dirty and tattered
he had nothing in his hands
he was walking like he was going to his execution
he was talking to himself.
My master met the boy far down the road and he threw his arms around him.
The mother told me to come with her when we saw that he was hugging the boy and kissing him.
When we got there we heard him tell a servant to bring a good robe.
A ring.
Shoes.
All of that showed he was home as a son - and not a bit less than that.
Then he yelled for the herd manager to prepare the fatted calf for a feast.
The fatted calf!
The fatted calf was the best of the spring calves and was grain fed. He would fetch a good price at market for someone’s wedding feast or someone else’s grand celebration.
The fatted calf was worth a great deal more than a goat or a lamb. You can feed at least 100 people with single calf.
This was going to be a special feast for sure
So the musicians from the village were called and we went to the market for the other food we would need and we were told to invite everyone. And they came.
I think they came for the food and the wine.
I’m not sure they agreed with the father - they thought he was too soft - too lenient - but this was a free meal with plenty of food.
This was another one of those things that was not supposed to happen this way.
The day he returned he should have had to ask a servant to go and ask his father for an audience - and his father - no matter how glad he was to see him should have made him wait outside
squirming pacing
but no. he just RAN and forgave him - before he heard any cooked up and practised apology and everyone I talked to later was sure he had cooked up a “best case” scenario on his long walk home. He would have weighed all his options and thought them over, again and again. I think the very best, the very best he should have hoped for was work, in season, as a day labourer.
but no, its open arms, the heroes welcome the best of everything
So it was not long before the other boy noticed something was going on. There was quite a racket.
He came home and asked a servant what was going on
It was one of the servants who told him that the party was for his brother who had come home safe and sound.
He went to the doorway of the house and said to the servant, “bring me my father”
The old man came out and smiling and said, “Good news your brother has come home - it was just like he was dead to us and now is alive again. Come in, we have to celebrate!”
“AND YOU ARE SERVING ROAST BEEF the older son roared at his father. I can smell it cooking
“Yes” the lost has been found”.
“A party like this, for HIM!” Jacob was yelling, angrier than I had ever seen him. I have never heard someone speak so disrespectfully to his father.
“Did you ever offer me a goat so I could celebrate with my friends?
NO”
He continued, “This son of yours has taken your money and spent it on living like a king and on wine and prostitutes. I bet his money ran out and he’s here to take advantage of us again.”
The older boy refused to listen to the father’s joy and stormed off
they never spoke again as son and father.
Just terse conversations about breeding goats and shearing sheep - farm stuff - the father was still in charge.
when the old man died the older son took possession of everything
the younger boy went to work as manager for a friend of his father. It was much easier
I’ve wondered about that family a lot
Now that I am a gramma, I know that kids can test your patience
and your principles
and what you say to them when they are young will come back to haunt you when they are older
the holy books tell us to raise our children right and they wont depart from those ways, but I’m not sure that is true
the holy books tell us that if we love our children we have to discipline them - yet I think some kids need a different method than others
I wonder if that father did the right thing, or not - but it healed his broken heart
I wonder who was made the worst mistake? The “good son” or the “wasteful one”? Or was it the father who was wasteful with his love?
All I know is, “Love brought one son back but drove another away.”
I guess I would prefer that to keeping one son by driving one away
it was the older boy’s decision to close his heart
My question is, “What seems more like Jesus to you?
Anthem: “Help Us To Accept Each Other” Farquharson and Klusmeirer
Isaiah 43: 16-21
Psalm
John 12: 1-8
I read somewhere that the smell of baking bread will make your house smell like home when prospective buyers come to tour your house! I’ve tried with the smell of cinnamon when my house was being shown to prospective buyers. The first prospects deemed it “too small for their needs - so I guess even baking bread would not have made the house seem bigger. I haven’t heard from the next prospects yet.
When we think of the word “home” we think of a place of comfort, relaxation and safety. We think of home as a place where you can put your feet up, get something out of the fridge without asking, and, in the words of a small poster I found in the basement of a manse, where you can ‘scratch where it itches”.
We are not sure what Jesus of Nazareth would have listed as his primary residence, but it seems that the home of Mary, Martha and their brother, Lazarus was a “close second.” The three of them offered Jesus and “the 12" a place of safety, comfort, and good food.
A friend of mine had only one child, a son. During his teen years, more days than not, when she arrived home from work, the house would be filled with boys his age, all with BIG appetites. Hers was a comfortable place for all of them to be, and for some, was more comfortable than their own homes. He also happened to have a grandmother who enjoyed the hubbub that comes with teenage boys - and all of the cooking! Unless it was for the church or for a friend they could eat anything they saw! I’ve even heard him ask, “ma, is this for us?” when he spied something on his kitchen counter.
No doubt this home was also a place where Jesus felt understood; a home where he could rest his tired feet and wonder aloud why some of the people, especially the religious leaders, were so hard to reach. It was a place of support and hospitality.
We are told that on this day, out of the blue, Mary, the one who spent more time listening than serving and doing dishes, took a pound of costly perfume and anointed his feet with it, wiping them with her own hair. Eeeeeew!
A number of years ago I was at a campground, visiting with several generations of a family from my congregation. In talking to their young daughter whom I had been able to hold the day she was born, and had baptized, I mentioned that the first time I saw her, she was as big as the potato chip bag lying on the picnic table. A little later, the little girl, whose sentence structure reflected her Francophone home, and had been studying the bag, turned to her grandmother and asked, "Gramma, if I was this big, where would be the feet?"
Unless it’s summer, in Canada our feet are a mostly hidden and often ignored. Socks and shoes hide our crooked toes, our bunions, our funny-looking toenails. Summer, or winter, though, our feet are a vital part of our body. We know that if our feet ache our whole body seems to ache. Seniors often have problems with their feet and a whole specialty in extra-mural nursing has developed in recent years - that of foot care. That grandmother, from the family across the street I mentioned earlier, called her foot care person, "the toe lady".
In fact, as part of their community outreach, Orchard Valley United Church, in New Minas, funds a foot care clinic for local seniors.
I have read that Allied soldiers in WWI, walking and standing in muddy, wet trenches all of the time, were given strict orders to change their socks at certain intervals to avoid a very debilitating, and life threatening, condition called “trench foot”.
In the middle-east in biblical times, a host would have a servant wash the feet of his guests. They wore sandals and walked everywhere so their feet were dirty and tired. Paying attention to their tired, aching feet was a sign of basic hospitality. We don’t know if Jesus had his feet washed with water on this day, but we do know, Mary anointed them with expensive perfume.
As we heard Sylvia read, on this day Judas complained, arguing that the perfume should be sold and the money given to the poor. Jesus said that she should be left alone and that she was doing this to prepare his body for burial. “The poor would always be here.”
Much more often than I’d like, that phrase “the poor you will always have with you” has been used to justify a lack of concern for the poor by some Christians. Of course, you can find support in the Bible for almost any position, if you look!
The idea that Jesus did not care about the poor is clearly contradicted by Jesus’ own ministry - and his teachings. Jesus concern for the poor was clearly demonstrated by both his words and his actions throughout his ministry.
Judas may or may not have been a thief and it seems clear to me that when the gospels were written down they could not get “behind” that act of betrayal. Remember he had been one of “the 12". What Judas said can be a valid concern in some circumstances. How we as a church and as individuals spend our money is indeed a gospel concern. A valid question for both ourselves and the church is: “Are we ignoring the needs of the poor so that we can have nicer and nicer things?” As the gulf between rich and poor continues to grow wider and wider, this will continue to be a concern.
A close reading of the passage seems to imply that in this instance, Jesus last days, this spending is justified. His concern for the poor will continue to motivate, shape and inform the ministry of Christian communities but as we approach Holy Week and the last days of Jesus’ life we should look at this simple, but very extravagant, action and learn from it.
When it comes to showing care and concern for others in difficult circumstances, I have seen the enormous lengths to which people will go to show love, concern and support (for example at the time of a funeral or serious illness) -
by things such as:
flying half-way across the world -
taking mountains of food to the house - helping the family with a myriad of tasks from
mowing lawns to moving snow to running to the airport to pick up people coming “home” -
and have seen that schedules once crammed full with other stuff are suddenly freed up.
Times like this call us all beyond what is economical and practical to make connections on a much deeper level.
Yesterday was the one year anniversary of the horrible bus crash that took the lives of so many young people in Saskatchewan. Millions of dollars were donated by total strangers; to families they would never meet - but for many reasons needed to show care, concern and concrete support. CBC News Network covered it as its primary story ALL afternoon yesterday, taking care to highlight each person who had been on the bus that day and to tell their story.
Getting back to the biblical story, according to Judas’ own calculations, the cost of a pound of nard, was 300 denarii. A denarius was the daily wage for a day labourer. Since peopled did not work on the Sabbath, 300 denarii would be about a year’s wages. That would be like someone working at McDonalds buying a bottle of foot cream that cost $24,000. It was a Louis Vuitton or Rolex type of purchase and packaged in a piece of luggage made by Halliburton.
As we near Holy Week, it’s easy for us to see where we are going here; we know that Calvary will be in sight when we round the next corner. We’ve walked this way every year of our worshipping lives.
In the season of Lent we know that each event and story takes us one step closer to the cross. Yet, the disciples are presented as mostly clueless (Judas perhaps, is only very disillusioned). Jesus had not succeeded in becoming a warrior leader who at least attempted to seize power from the Romans as people had hoped for many generations. None of the disciples really “got it”.
The authorities saw Jesus’ popularity and wanted to get rid of him and his ideas: they did not tolerate trouble makers well! The woman, Mary understood him. She “got it” I think! On this day her actions tell us that at least one of Jesus’ friends has seen the writing on the wall and knew the final confrontation was at hand and she acted accordingly. In this instance, this extravagant gesture was entirely appropriate.
I’m not 100% certain but the passage read today seems to imply that the smell of the nard wafting through the house was a pleasant one - it was the smell of extravagant love.
If you don’t know, I love free and smoke free spaces! Don’t smoke in my house or car, or else! The only bottle of “ eau de cologne” I have is almost 40 years old - and it’s not empty because I used it all up. My bottle of 4711 was a graduation gift from a friend in high school and I kept it because it’s a cute knickknack!
I don’t know much it cost in 1981 but I found the same sized bottle online for about $10 so it wasn’t what I’d call an extravagant gift.
This story is about an extravagant display of devotion at a time when the commitment of some to Jesus’ way was waning - and Judas was about to bail, in a big way! We have no idea where a woman got a year’s wages to purchase this product.
One of the things that was a common theme in yesterday’s broadcast from Saskatchewan was “last words”. What were the last words exchanged between the now deceased members of the Humboldt Broncos hockey team and their families? When was the last time they said, “I love you”?
I know one couple who always exchange a kiss and say, “I love you” when they part, even if it is just for outside chores. It’s not morbid, but it is an intentional acknowledgement of the fact that they may be their last words.
I went out to my garage a month or so ago and (sniff -sniff - sniff) something smelled, well, funny. When I found the source I made sure to put the lid on the garbage can and to put the contents out the next “clear bag” day.
“That stinks” is an expression that is frequently used to describe bad news. We’ve had a lot of news that stinks of late.
It stinks that we have such a high childhood poverty rate which, of course, means, “families living in poverty”.
I read a headline something to the effect of, “Seniors are targeted in home renovations scams and are bilked for over $1M”. That stinks!
A new climate change report indicated that Canada is warming at 2X the rate of other countries and our north 3X the global average. That stinks.
Murders.
Arson related fires.
Fatal car accidents.
They all stink.
I saw a picture the other day of a still recovering survivor of the Humboldt Broncos bus crash and his hero Sydney Crosby, of the Pittsburg Penguins. Even given the reason for the meeting, the smell of that story is much more pleasant.
When we read “pay it forward” stories of people buying coffee for strangers, of people being kind to those living on the street, of kids giving up birthday gifts for food bank donations, those stories have a difference scent; like the one on that long ago day in Bethany, the smell is clearly sweet.
We don’t have the opportunity to anoint the feet of Jesus with the most expensive lotion money can buy, but we can take something from this story. We can take the lesson of paying attention those fleeting glimpses of the holy and taking the opportunity to act on them.
We have no excuses for inaction - the time is now for us to take our faith seriously and to commit to it with everything we have - and may our tears of sorrow and joy show that our giving and our loving is real.
Amen.
Isaiah 50: 4-9a
Psalm 118
Luke 19: 28-40
When I was a kid I heard that Robert Stanfield was coming to PEI and was asked if I wanted to I could go to the airport and welcome him. As you all know, Stanfield was the guy from the well-known and wealthy Truro underwear family, and he was the leader of the Opposition. So I said, “sure, I’ll go”. I went with the family of the school bus driver and when he got off of plane we all cheered and waved signs with his name on them that we had been given by the organizers. A photographer from the local paper took our picture. I remember though that when the picture made the paper I was disappointed to find out that I had been standing too far to one side and was cut off and not even my name appeared underneath the photo. I think I have the newspaper photo in a scrapbook which is packed in a box somewhere in my big pile of boxes.
I think that all I really knew at the time was that a famous politician was coming to PEI. The difference between the Liberals and the Progressive Conservatives or between Trudeau and Stanfield would have been lost on me. I kept the sign in the back of my closet for years but finally I either tossed or used the plain side of the cardboard and the stick for another project.
In the era of “social media” and smart phones, it’s fairly easy to organize a rally. Are you upset about the proposal of the Nova Scotia Government to do X, Y, or Z? You are? Will you come to a demonstration? Yes! Well then, all we have to do is to set a date and time and put it on Facebook? Let’s send it out over Twitter. We’ll make up a few signs and use every method we know to get as many people as possible “worked up” about the issue? Look at how many people turned out to tell the government that we wanted the aboiteau on the Half-way River fixed. And we are still concerned! Are they closing a hospital? Look at what happened in Ontario this past week over proposed cuts in education. I was listening to the CBC last week and the guest was talking about some foreign facebook members getting people out from opposing sides of more than one issue so that confrontations would ensue and the sides would become more and more polarized.
It’s hard for me to imagine how there could be another side to some of the “protest signs” I’ve had printed and placed on the ends of the pews this morning but, as they say, “the devil is in the details!” For a former professor of mine, “it was God who was in the details”; sometimes a slogan sounds good (or bad) until you really think about it. Once you have considered it again, you may change your mind.
Today we begin the most “up and down” week in the church calendar - today’s crowd seems like they are at a rally for the man who won the election with a landslide. On Friday, a crowd, maybe even some of the same people, will be out for blood, literally.
However, if you want to hear the whole story, with all of its ups and downs, you will have to come back Thursday and Friday and then on Sunday.
Many churches observe this as Palm AND Passion Sunday, in case the Sunday folks think the story of Jesus is all power and victory, with no agony in the garden and no cross. We have decided that this year we will assume you are going to show up at least one of those days and we will take each event as it comes. You really cant know the true joy of Easter unless you have stood at the tomb weeping in the dread silence after Jesus, the light of your life, has breathed his last. You really can’t - so please come to the other services this week.
Have you ever had news so great that you could not wait to tell the world? At many cancer treatment centres there is a ship’s bell hanging on the wall. When a patient finishes his or her recommended treatments, they tell the world, or at least the part of the world who are sitting in the room, that they are done of being poisoned and mirco-waved with chemo and radiation, by ringing that bell. I suppose everyone claps - because they too look forward to the day they, or their loved one, can ring the bell as well.
High school seniors are so happy about graduating after 13 or so years of school that they and their parents spend thousands of dollars on a party called “PROM.”
Some university students are so glad to be graduating that they have a text-book campfire in the football field and, unfortunately, may also damage university property such as goal posts and residence furniture.
In Canada there has been more than one riot after a 7th game defeat in the race for the Stanley Cup. Sports fans have also been known to riot when their team WINS. Studies have shown that there is something about the anonymity of a crowd that allows people to do things they would never otherwise do if they were alone.
Since there was no Facebook, Twitter or even radio, we don’t know how the people of Jerusalem heard Jesus was coming, but the gospels tell us there were great crowds. Of course, we are told that great crowds tended to follow him wherever he went. A number of years ago there was one person on staff at Fundy National Park who knew just about everything that happened there. If you wanted to know something, all you had to do was ask him.
It may not be that surprising unless you know that he was deaf. Somehow he found out.
The scriptures present us a picture of things unfolding “as they should” both before and during this “triumphal entry” event. For example, the donkey was where it was supposed to be and the owner let the two disciples just take it, like he had received a text message asking if it was OK. Luke points out that the scriptures of old knew all about it, beforehand.
I read somewhere that this was not the only parade that day. Since Passover was just around the corner, and Jerusalem would be filled with pilgrims from far and near, Rome would have stepped up security in Jerusalem. That happens even today when large crowds are expected. Rome was going to make sure the people knew they were being watched.
So, through another gate on this same day would have been riding fully armed soldiers on horses followed by foot soldiers carrying spears and shields. Emotions and separatist sentiments tended to get very high during Passover so Rome wanted to be ready with a show of brute force. Its message was clear, “stay in line or else!”
So, a big part of this event is the contrast - because the people would have been well aware of the increased presence of the political power that was the Roman Empire. We are told that the religious leaders tried to get Jesus to silence his followers. They did not want to upset the uneasy truce that they had worked out with Rome. Stay quiet, don’t rock the boat, and we will let the temple and the Jewish festivals and celebrations happen without interference. BUT, if there is trouble, the gloves will come off. And we all know what is about to happen when the gloves come off in a hockey game!
When we see something unusual we pay more attention to it than we would if the happening were considered normal. In Charlottetown every year there is a parade that is attached to and promotes a horse race, the Gold Cup and Saucer. Some time before the race a group of young adult women win a competition to become a “Gold Cup and Saucer Ambassador” and represent one of the horses. Each of them carries a riding crop and wears “silks” representing the stable to which their horse belongs. She is driven along the parade route on the back of a convertible. This has happened for so many years that youl don’t really notice until something changes. One year they tried to change a number of things about the parade but resistance to change won out and now its back to the way it always was, expect they are no longer “Gold Cup and Saucer Girls” they are “Gold Cup and Saucer Ambassadors.” Whether you like it that way or not, tradition won.
One of the difficulties that has long been a problem with walking through Holy Week is that we know how it will all turn out; we know about both Good Friday and Easter Sunday. It is hard to take each day as it comes when we know what will happen tomorrow, but that is what we are called to do each year - to walk the way of the cross and to take from it the spiritual lessons it has to offer.
I suppose it’s something like raising children. All parents know more or less what will, or at least should, happen with each child. So they should not really be surprised when the children move from one stage to another, as predicted. Knowing that a child will eventually walk and talk, grow out of diapers, talk in complete sentences and eventually move out to go to university or get their own home does not mean that each stage should not be valued for what it is, in and of itself.
In the time when the days are long and the years are short, parents have to live with one foot “in the moment” enjoying their offspring’s childhood, treating their child in an appropriate manner for the age they are, and at the same time with the other foot knowing that “you are preparing them for adulthood.” And when they are grown up you know you will miss the years when your house was like the “Family Circus”.
So we are left on this day with the questions about what it means that we have gathered at Jesus’ triumphal entry and not at that of the Roman soldiers on the other side of town. We need to task ourselves, “what kind of king are we welcoming?” Are we welcoming a king who rules with a might to equal, or better yet, overpower Rome? Or we looking for a leader that calls us to look at life in a different manner? As individuals and as a faith community does our “success” or our “greatness” depend on our bank account, our numbers, the grandeur of our house, or does it come from the certainty that we have followed to the best of our ability? Does it mirror a life that depends not on our own skill and strength, but upon the grace of God, which can allow us to speak when we are told to be silent - which can allow us to act in love when it is costly - which can give us a reason to follow when the world around us tells us not to bother.
Soon the same crowd will turn from praises of Hosanna to shouts of “crucify him”. The question for us is, “will we be silenced?” Will we be turned to follow other leaders and adopt different values.
There are a lot of pressures to chose the easy way, the popular way, the way of convenience. Holy week is about committing to the way of Jesus and shouting “Hosanna” with the very stones of the ground.
Please stay with me on this journey through the valley.
We may find we turn our palms into crosses but the message of Easter is for us, in all our failings as well. Minister will demonstrate how easy it is to turn a palm frond, a symbol of the shouts of “Hosanna” into a cross, a symbol of the shouts of “crucify him”.
Amen.
No sermon - tenebrae and communion
No Sermon - service of readings and reflection