Ezekiel 37: 1-14
Psalm 104
Acts 2: 1-21

Bones, Bones and More Bones

Quite a few years ago now, my family doctor had a skeleton hanging in the inner hallway, outside his exam rooms. One day, an article about him appeared in the provincial newspaper (the doctor, not the skeleton) and he told the reporter that it was the skeleton of a previous secretary, whom he had worked to death! I suppose the bony patient, complete with ball cap, was a great way for him to explain broken bones or hip and knee replacements to his patients.

In the last few months there have been a great many Facebook posts on the Holocaust. We know that the vast majority of those who survived the Nazis’ death camps, looked like living skeletons when the camps were liberated. The released men, women and children had been starved, beaten and mistreated in every way and were quite literally worked, almost to death. If you do an internet search on any of the various genocides which happened in the 20th century you may well see pictures of piles of human bones, especially skulls, often in large stacks. These bones are a chilling reminder of lives lost due to ethnic hatred, violence and war.

I have told you before that I like watching what are often termed “police procedural shows.” One of my favourite shows is “Bones” in which a forensic anthropologist and an FBI agent team up to solve crimes, new and old. Her passion for her work is inspiring and their relationship is hilarious.

In one episode their daughter learns a song in her day care about bones: you know the one - “The toe bone's connected to the foot bone, The foot bone's connected to the ankle bone, The ankle bone's connected to the leg bone, The leg bone's connected to the knee bone,” and so on. The forensic anthropologist wants to forbid the child from singing this song because it is anatomically incorrect and she tries to write one that is -which is not easy considering that any song for a child needs to be singable.

Today’s passage from Ezekiel is described as a “vision,” not a visit to an actual site. The vision is of a field of bones - dried out in the sun, perhaps scattered by wild animals, as far from the living and breathing people they used to be as one could possibly imagine. What desolation would you feel if you saw something like that and knew that they represented YOUR OWN KIN.

He is called to prophesy to the bones, to speak God’s word to them. You heard it, he did prophesy, speaking a word of new life, a word of hope. The bones do come to life after a fashion. First, they become bodies but there is no breath. He prophesies again and with the second prophecy, they became truly alive, truly human because they needed not only a body of flesh and bone but to become breathing beings, filled with the Spirit.

Imagine a people in such despair that they see themselves only in terms of a once glorious past - which is GONE. Their better days are far behind them - they have lost all hope. YET, the prophet tells them they are being too hasty, they are throwing out the baby with the bathwater. There is hope. There is life.

Lets look at what was going on in the world around Ezekiel - who lived about 600 years before Jesus. At some point after the reign of King Solomon the country split in two and the Kingdom of Israel was defeated in war and was wiped off of the map, disappearing forever. Then the Kingdom of Judah was defeated by the superpower Babylon, and the were taken into Exile - as captives, prisoners of war.

But it was more than that. It was a profound crisis of faith about their God. In a mind-set where a nation’s fate in war and the power of their God were opposite sides of the same coin, the Jewish people worried that their God had been defeated that their God was lying with the bones of their people, in the ruins of their beautiful city.

Think of all of those TV “ghost towns” with abandoned buildings, tumbleweed blowing around and the saloon door swinging in the wind on one rusty hinge.

But what about us and our lives here in Saskatchewan in 2024. I have heard a number of people speak of the days where there was “a homestead on every quarter”. Of course, when you were limited to using older farming methods with horses you could only handle so much land in one season. Many farmers had a winter income from forestry or mining and the women in clerical work. I’m told that it started to change after WWII which was, of course, a time of change in many sectors of society the world over, The sizes of farms gradually grew as children left the farm for the city and mechanization meant one farmer could work more land. Now, corporations seek more control over commodity costs and own the land AND the processing equipment.

I believe it was my second Christmas here; someone gave me a book of photographs titled, “Forgotten Saskatchewan.” It shows abandoned houses, churches and grain elevators . There is a certain kind of sad and nostalgic beauty in a well taken photograph of an abandoned farm property. It does not take much to imagine a family gathered in those kitchens for a meal. BUT the house has long since been abandoned and the descendants now scattered to the four winds.

“Country Canada” is a TV show which has been on since the mid 1950s (when it was called, “Country Calendar”) and I recall one episode which focussed on a family from Rouleau. (If you don’t know, my great grandparents and grandparents farmed near Rouleau for about 25 years.) My dad made sure his mother was near the TV so she could watch this program. After it was over he asked her if she knew that family. Her response was simply, “they farm our land.” Because of the drought my father’s family was part of that Exodus to other parts.

Farmers have an intimate connection to a certain piece of land that is hard for non-farmers to truly understand. I have a picture of the front yard at home on my cell phone; it is property we would never have owned if my grandparents had stayed in southern Saskatchewan. Yet I know no other “view from the front window.”

It is also hard for us to understand the connection to the “land of promise” that Jewish people we read about in the biblical story felt. It seems that they were destined to spend the most of their lives longing for that promise.

These days a people restored to the land by international agreements in the aftermath of WWII are doing everything they an to keep it and to make sure no one can truly threaten their living in the land. The friction and outright war between the modern state of Israel and the Palestinians who have been on those lands, continuously, for countless generations is hard to wrap our heads around. I am also warned that we should not equate the modern secular and Zionist state of Israel with the Israel of the biblical era. It is not an easy task to sort out all these competing claims to the same small piece of land which from which 3 groups who claim to be children of Abraham have sprung. As Jews, Muslims and Christians we need to find a way!

To find a new place to call home and to welcome new people are acts of hope. To find a new place to call home and to welcome new people are part of the human story.

But we are not a people who look forward, easily. Even after 5 short years (in Codette) (in Nipawin), I can look out from my vantage point here in the pulpit and see those of you who are no longer sitting out there. I can see the hardy souls who shovelled snow and mowed grass and cooked soup and kept the church open and thriving for so many years. You will have so many more faces and willing hands that you remember and miss.

Now that so many churches have gone to part time ministry, or amalgamated, or closed altogether faith communities are having to re-think what church is. What is church where there is no building in which to gather or on which to pin our identity? If God being with us means a thriving church, which part of that equation is missing? Has God let us down? Or have we forgotten how to look for signs of God alive and active in our midst?

In the TV show Call the Midwife, one of the nurses loses her sweetheart to complications arising from an accident and she is in despair. An older woman, a holocaust survivor, is challenged to come out of her despair by the birth of a new generation and she prepares to move with them; to move on. As she says “goodbye” to her neighbours she tells the nurse to, “keep on living until you are alive again.”

Bemoaning the past will not give us life nor will wishing we were back in those good old days! What will give us life is the word from God that says God’s presence is not to be found among the bones of the dead, or in the past, but in the word of God that has always been there. Our God is with us, where we find ourselves and where we seek meaning in the here and now. As the hymn says, “Open my eyes that I may see.”

The God of life is with us; thanks be to God.

Amen.

Isaiah 6: 1-8
Psalm 29
John 3: 1-7

“Under the Cover of Darkness”

Have you ever encountered a child who was angry or upset and acting out, and you held that little person or took his or her hand and said, firmly and softly “tell me what is wrong; use your words”. Often, it works - and then you can understand what is going on in that young mind, in that young life. Maybe you can “fix” the problem or you have to settle for just loving that child by listening to him or her. I gather that this approach does not often work well with children on “the autism spectrum,” but it does with many others.

BUT, sometimes WE are the ones who have no words or are “at a loss for words”. Just how do you describe something that is beyond description; how do you put something into words that is beyond them? The description in the passage from Isaiah leads me to think of the “Northern Lights,” often a sight “beyond words”. It leads me to bring to mind glorious sunrises, stunning sea scapes and that moment when your turn the corner into the town of Banff and all you see in front of you is a mountain. Just how would I describe the look on a certain groom’s face as his bride to be started down the aisle. I recall visiting a new mom in the hospital and there she was, oblivious to everything else, staring into the face of her newborn, wrapped in awe and love. There are no words.

In English we use the word “love” to describe a myriad of things: a special affection for a certain meal at our favourite restaurant, a favourite TV show, our favourite movie star, our community, our parents, or our life-partner, to name just a few. While we know that each love is not the same, we only have that one word: love. The Greek language has at least five words for love. A different word describes love for family, love for siblings, love for spouse, love for self, love for country and then there is a word for the kind of love which is an obsession. This may be a stretch but I might call that “stalker love.”

Perhaps birth is the same kind of word. Perhaps we need different words for different kinds of birth.

In order to delve deeper into this we need to look at the story about a man named Nicodemus. He is described as a leader of the Jews who came to Jesus by night. Sometimes we do things at night that we do not want to be seen doing in daylight. A lot of petty crime happens at night, simply because the darkness prevents actions being clearly seen.

Many years ago, someone on a neighbouring pastoral charge told me of a former minister who came back to Canada after having served in a country where it was not good for a family to have the minister as a guest. Seeing the minister’s car in a driveway meant trouble for the family, so it was accepted practice that he visit at night. Rural Canada did not have the same concerns and his elderly parishioners wanted visits, but not at night. It took him awhile to adapt to this change in community standards and expectations.

As a Pharisee, Nicodemus would have been known in the community. Public figures had to be careful who they were seen with and talking to. To be talking with this rogue rabbi would not have been a good thing for a Pharisee who was intent on making friends and influencing people.

But Nicodemus had a hunger; he came to Jesus seeking more. Likely a “secret follower,” he wanted a more meaningful encounter than could be had by word of mouth or hanging out on the fringes of a crowd. It seems clear that at least some of his Pharisee friends would not have taken kindly to knowing he was open to the message Jesus was preaching! So Nicodemus sought him out under the relative safety and anonymity of darkness.

As we heard, when Jesus told him that he needed to be born from above, he was unable to understand what Jesus meant because he could not get his head around the different between being born from above and being born again. How could a grown man be born a second time? I have seen many pictures of women with their baby just hours old, wondering how that baby could possibly have been inside her body just hours ago.

A number of years ago biblical scholars began to translate the second birth referred to in this story as “born from above;” the particular Greek word was better translated that way. It is Nicodemus who mis-understands and substitutes it with “again;” John does not put that word on Jesus’ lips! Some modern versions of the bible are known for their insistence on keeping this familiar phrasing because it is so important to their way of understanding the Christian faith. (After I typed that sentence I realized that some of the “modern versions” I refer to are now 40 years old or more.) The New Revised Standard Version, the one we use here in Bridging Waters is one that believes that the best translation is “from above” and not the one that is “most familiar”!

I was a teenager when I first encountered groups of people whose attachment to the phrase “born again” was almost magical and was equated with “being saved”. I have never really been comfortable with all of the emotion surrounding those two phrases. I’ve never been comfortable with that “line in the sand” approach to the faith. I’ve never been comfortable with having to name the day and the hour.

Many years later I walked onto an elevator in the large hospital I visited weekly. On the elevator was a pastor from one of the local churches with whom I had a passing acquaintance. I nodded a hello. I would have been wearing my clerical collar and had a hospital clergy ID around my neck. He asked, “Have you been born again?” I said something like, “Of course!” To me it was almost an insult - to my denomination and to me personally. Sometimes it seems as if these folks believe they have the magic formula and no one else does. Many argue that a Christian has to be able to name the day and the hour Jesus came into their heart and effected this re-birth. It should not surprise you to learn that I disagree.

We have Jesus telling Nicodemus that he must be born from above; and along with Nicodemus we may be confused and wonder what he could have meant. Birth usually has one meaning; even in the age of fetal surgery, you can’t be born twice. It’s a rule! A number of changes occur at birth that cannot be reversed or undone. Birth is recorded as having happened at a certain time and a certain day. You get a certificate to prove it, after all. The location of this event can also determine important things such as citizenship.

I do not think being born from above has the same rules. Then again, while being born in the usual way can be pinned down to a certain time, that is not all there was to it. I saw a Facebook birth announcement recently from a family on our church list. It is complete with pictures of his being held by his adoring big brother! Of course, her family and friends on Facebook have known for months that she is expecting.

Having citizenship, or a nationality, has been declared as a basic human right. Hospital records and perhaps a long form birth certificate lists not only the date but the time by hour and minute. When I was born it was common for the parents to put a birth announcement in the provincial newspaper and a short time later cards would arrive from many friends and relatives as well as a congratulatory note from the office of the MP! I think his office must have had a stack of pre-signed congratulatory notes and his secretary was instructed to send them to anyone in the constituency who published a birth announcement. This also applied to other celebrations; I don’t recall getting sympathy cards when a relative died. My siblings and I had a celebration for our parents’ 25th Anniversary on the Saturday closest to the date. That was fine, but all the congratulatory notes and certificates from politicians carried this incorrect date for their nuptials!

Of course, we all know that 39-40 weeks are needed for a baby to be declared full-term. We know far more than the people in Jesus’ day did about what happens during those weeks the child develops in darkness but even then there never was anything “instant” about it; we just know more about what is going on, in secret, “in the depths of the earth” as the psalm writer puts it.

Sometimes pregnancy is not at all easy - as you know. One friend of mine threw up every day for much of her pregnancy, another lost weight instead of gaining, another was on bed rest for several months and another almost died in childbirth. Once the baby is born there are endless diapers, growing out of clothes, frequent feedings and many sleepless nights. This says nothing, of course about those women who badly want children but cannot have them.

When we begin to explore the birth metaphor in this story we can tease out some meaning for our own life of faith. The possibilities are almost endless.

I believe that the words, “from above” are crucial to this passage. Being born from above is a work of the Spirit in a similar way to the fact that none of us had anything to do with our own birth - it was our parent’s action, whether it was by choice or accident. Being born of the Spirit necessitates a relationship with the holy. It means that it is not something we can achieve entirely on our own, by our own effort and willpower.

When we seek to grow our relationship with God or when we realize that God has been seeking a relationship with us, we are in the process of this birth from above. In the 9 months before a child is born the single cell we all begin as undergoes massive changes and begins to rapidly divide and then change so that our bodies have different kinds of cells with different functions. When we think of our life of faith we need to remember this.

At some point before we are born, we have all the parts we need - they just need to grow and mature. We also need to remember that birth is only the beginning of a process of growth and maturing. In our bodies, some cells are replaced regularly and some are not - when you are born you have all you will ever have! One of the problems in United Church is that some people believe they are fully grown after they graduate from Sunday School or from confirmation class.

I think of the birth from above as a spirit guided process that is life-long. There is no reason for us to stop learning, growing and changing our faith all our life through.

Unlike some people Jesus encounters, in the scriptures, we do hear from Nicodemus again, twice. Once, during Jesus’ last days, he stands up to defend Jesus’ right to a fair trial and the second and last time he is one of the people in John ‘s Gospel who bring spices so that his body can be properly prepared for burial. Nicodemus managed to get together enough courage to come out of the shadows and live in the light; he was able to stand up and be counted among the followers of Jesus.

We do not come to this world fully formed nor do we come to the life of faith fully formed and we should not expect to. Sometimes our lives take unwelcome turns and we need to reassess our faith and our lives in the light of our new reality. I remember the groom whose first marriage broke up as the result of an accident which left him in a wheelchair and I encountered him because he was being married again and looking forward to new adventures and a bright future.

Some time ago I visited a couple who shared a room in the local nursing home. Over the time I was their minister I observed their health deteriorate but they always seemed to be cheerful and positive, overall. One day I asked them if they were “glass half full” people, or “glass half empty people” to which they replied, almost instantly, “Neither. Our cup overflows.”

Being born is a major change of venue, so to speak. We all went through it, but don’t have the ability to remember it. Our life of faith is an ongoing process of being given the grace to adapt to new surroundings, new challenges and new abilities.

We are not promised that everything will always be perfect, but only that we will not b e alone. Our parent will stare into our eyes with utter awe and wonder what lies ahead in te gr3eat adventure that is life.

For this we can say, “thanks be to God.” Amen.

I Samuel 3: 1-10
Psalm 139
Mark 2: 23-3:6

It wasn’t Supposed to Happen That Way!

If I start this true story with, “it was Mons, Belgium, at two minutes to 11: am on November 11, 1918," you might assume I am going to tell a story of dancing in the streets, elation and celebration, in sure and certain hope that the long and destructive war was finally over, but sadly, this is not that story. Not all events of that day were good news ones. Two minutes before the Armistice was to take effect, a German sniper killed Pte George Lawrence Price, the last Canadian to die in battle in WW1. He was from Falmouth NS, a small community in the Annapolis Valley but while Nova Scotia claims him as one of their own, we here in Saskatchewan can also lay claim to Pte Price; he lived near Moose Jaw at the time of his conscription! Pte Price was on a final mission; no allies were supposed to die that day! Ironically, his remains lie just metres from the first British soldier to die in that war, 4 years before!

I could start another story with, “it was London UK on July 29, 1981.” That was the day that the heir to the Throne of the British Commonwealth married the beautiful, and much younger, Lady Diana Frances Spencer. It was the stuff of fairy tales and we thought that everyone would be living “happily ever after.” They had two good looking sons (the “heir and the spare”) and life was glorious in the palace! At least, that was how it was supposed to happen. Of course, we all know that it did not turn out that way!

We all know the way things are supposed to turn out. We know that young professionals start at the bottom and work their way up the ladder, gaining experience and earning more money as they are seen to be able to take on more responsibility. Teachers start out teaching whatever no one else in the school wants to teach and eventually can teach in their area of expertise. Babies are all born to loving parents who place that child’s well-being at the top of their list of priorities. We know though that not all of these things happen “as they should”.

The story of Samuel was one I learned in Sunday School, complete with pictures of a cute little curly-haired boy looking forward to his mother’s yearly visit to the temple where she had left him because he was God’s precious gift. In case you have forgotten, the short version of his story is that the priest Eli promised Hannah, who was experiencing infertility, that she would have a child. When this child is born she is so happy that she gives him to God, under the care of Eli, as soon as he is weaned. As a minister I do not honestly know what I would do with a little boy as an assistant or student who was too young even for Kindergarten. Maybe he could find my reading glasses, or get a dietCoke from the fridge, or some other small task but help me write a sermon or visit, I doubt it!

When I was a child, I found this to be a sad story; a really sad story! Even when we are told, almost as an afterthought, that his parents had 5 more children, I was left feeling indignant and sad. I always knew that the birth of five more children would not make up for the one who now lived far away, but was still so small! Truthfully, I would not want those folks as my parents if that was how they treated their child.

This passage from the book of 1 Samuel is one of nostalgia, and sadness - yet it is surrounded in hope. We begin with the ominous note -”the word of the Lord was rare and visions were not widespread.” But and this is a big “but”, we are also told that the “lamp of God had not yet gone out.” Of course this is a simple reference to the time of day that Samuel heard God’s call but it is a metaphorical note of hope. In that long ago time, people in general were not listening, and those who should have had visions were not seeing them, BUT, just wait, the author says, “there is hope; let me tell you about the boy, Samuel.”

My first question is this: had God really stopped speaking or had the people stopped listening; there is a difference. A few years ago, our sister denomination, the United Church of Christ (USA) had a promotional campaign using the catch phrase, “God is still speaking”

Looking at this passage we may wonder, just who was letting the word of God fall to the ground before Samuel appeared on the scene? The easy answer is Eli and sons Hophni and Phinehas, but it seems that it was more widespread than that.

The reference about God’s word not falling to the ground under Samuel’s leadership, seems to me to be the same as saying, “no one was dropping the ball any more.” As a sports metaphor we know the importance of who has control over the “ball in play,” and their responsibility to score a goal with it. The quarterback is running with the ball and has to have it in hand when he makes the touchdown or it doesn’t count. If the outfielder picks up a ball rolling along the field and then turns to throw it to someone else so that person can tag the one running, but drops the ball instead, the runner is more likely to be safe on a base before the ball can be picked up and thrown to the waiting glove.

I have said before that a great deal of the biblical literature was written, not just to record history, because of a crisis of one kind or another among God’s people. We are the beneficiaries when we have crises of our own upon which the texts can shed some light.

In world of polarized politics we are wondering if the right people are in the right places in this great game of world, or even community affairs. The International Court of Justice has issued arrest warrants for leaders of both Hamas and Israel. Haiti is in a terrible state as rival gangs are making life next to impossible. And then there is Ukraine and Russia!

As churches, part of the problem is that every denomination seems to be hearing something different when it comes to God speaking. The United Church is one of radical welcome while some other denominations talk a great deal of forgiveness of sins and they have a good idea what sins they mean.

The gospel passage is partly about proper Sabbath observance. I grew up in a home where my mother would have preferred a “no work that was not absolutely necessary” on Sunday. When I was a young teen, one of my mother’s aunts was visiting and I wanted to get out my knitting so she could see me doing something she liked to do, but I was told that I could not because it was a Sunday and SHE would never knit on Sunday. I actually don’t think my mom cared about knitting on Sunday but she knew her aunt certainly did. My dad milked a few cows and you do have to milk twice a day, seven days a week but he also believed that you also have to “make hay while the sun shined,” even if it was a Sunday and even if my mother objected.

Jesus lived in a time when proper Sabbath observance was important, at least to many religious leaders. Some of them seemed to be lying in wait for Jesus to mess up so they could attack him. He tried to raise the conversation to a new level and look at the reasons for a Sabbath in the first place. In what kind of world would ambulances and fire departments close on Sunday. There had always been provision in their law for necessary work and one of his “reasons,” I think was compassion.

What message is God trying to tell us today? Is is it a message of welcome and compassion in a world that seems more and more intent on looking out for ourselves.

When we look at all the hate in the world toward people who are, in some way, different, what is our response. What about the people who are shunned. 25 years ago a young university student was lynched and killed because he was gay. Matthew Shepherd’s name because a household word for a long time. Since the late 1980s the United Church has sought to be a place of welcome for people of differing sexual orientations - believing in the modern medical evidence that sexual orientation is not chosen but given.

As a denomination we have tried to come to terms with our mistakes, one of which was our participation in the system of residential schools. Knowing what we know now it is hard to believe that they were ever seen as a good thing, but now that we know what we do, we need to try and make some kind of restitution because the people who personally live with their legacy, live in our community, attend our churches, and are married into our families. We have prospered at their expense and we are Canadians.

There is a lot in our world that we can respond to by saying, “its not supposed to happen that way.” Some of it is tragedies that cannot be undone, such as an accidental death or a terminal diagnosis. In those cases we can know God’s never ending presence and support.

Some of it though, is something that can be a catalyst for change so that, in time, others do not suffer. We can know God’s presence as we work to end conflict, ease suffering due to disease, crime, poverty and simple indifference.

God has given us a vision of light, of creation which at its beginning was proclaimed as good. Let us open our eyes and seek out that light of God. Let us fill up that lamp so that it burns in our lives. Let us say, “speak for your servants are listening.”

Amen.

1 Samuel 8: 4-11, 16-10
Psalm 138
Mark 3: 19b - 35

99

When I was very young I was a fan of the spy comedy, “Get Smart”. Usually, the words “spy” and “comedy” do not belong in the same sentence! In this show, one of the agents of “Control” who aided in fighting “Kaos” was Maxwell Smart (aka Agent 86) whose boss was referred to simply as “Chief”. His female sidekick and eventual wife was “Agent 99" who had no “real name.” As a child I saw it’s comedy but did not realize it was a spoof! The funniest parts, to me were his “shoe phone” with its attendant glitches, and the secret meetings under the “cone of silence;” a weird gadget which never worked as it was supposed to. I also loved his expression and accompanying hand gesture, “missed it by this much.”

Many years later, along came the cartoon series, “Inspector Gadget,” the story of an agent who was half human - half machine. He was voiced by the actor who played Maxwell Smart, Don Adams. When Covid shut down the in-person worship at church, mid-way through Lent 2020, like many of my colleagues, I began to record services on my laptop while in my living room.

However, it did not feel right to me, to be sitting in my living room on Easter Sunday with a totally empty sanctuary right across the street, so the front of the sanctuary was set up so I could use my laptop as a camera and mic and reach the Christ and Peace candles and other things I needed from my seated position. I think I even referenced “my gadget arm” because I had to light the Christ Candle, the peace candle and all of those other things, without moving away from my laptop because that was where the camera was. It all reminded me of that silly cartoon! You may wonder what this has to do with anything! I guess I thought of this because the United Church will turn 99 tomorrow.

Many years ago, Some of my friends and I used to joke about us being the UNTIED Church and sometimes it may feel as if our denomination is becoming UN TIED or at the very least, is untidy!

I hope to have this appear as a link United Church Family Tree This is what amounts to a United Church Family Tree but, unfortunately, it leaves out anything that happened since 1925 - which is quite a bit! We joined with the Evangelical United Brethren in the 1960s and entered into full communion with the United Church of Christ USA about 8 years ago, but it does give us a good understanding of the complexity of our makeup.

Like our own family trees it tells the story of how we came to be. I am a bit bemused when I see one of those ancestry.ca tv commercials in which people find out things about grandparents and other relatives that they never knew before. Of course, they advertise because ancestry.ca is a business and they want you to buy their product. Some families, I suppose, never talk about the past.

When I marry a couple, they must provide some basic information about their parents for the purpose of registering the marriage. However, some people have no clue where their parents were born or what their mother’s maiden name was! Sometimes I can trigger that answer by asking, “What is your grandmother’s name?” and you see a light go on. “Hummm, if we call that gramma and grampa, “Gramma and Grampa Jones, then that must have been Mom’s maiden name!!!!!!!” But sometimes they don’t even know that much. At least it gets the couple talking to their parents! Two years in a row I married 2 sisters. Between weddings one and two, the maternal grandmother’s birthplace changed! When I noticed the difference I phoned the woman in question. Of course there is always someone from time to time with no father but then there was the summer where two grooms in a row who had no mothers. Families can get complicated and two Vital Statistic agents can give conflicting advice.

Many years ago I visited a friend of my mother’s family. She was what has been called, “a continuing Presbyterian” and she felt very strongly that Church Union was the worst thing that had ever happened in her life-time because of the conflict and disruption it caused. The church I would call, “my home church” was built in 1927 or so because the people who wanted to stay Presbyterian took the United Church to court and were awarded their building which forced the ones who wanted to become United Church to build their own! That was a just a few years before my father’s family moved to that area and became members of that United Church.

In one community I served, the United Church ended up selling one of the “surplus” buildings back those who wished to remain Presbyterian but the Presbyterians did not need what been their manse and we sold the Methodist manse and moved the minister into the Presbyterian one. The one bone of contention was that the church records of both congregations became United Church property!

In many towns and cities there were sufficient congregations to keep both buildings open and they did so for many years. In many cases each congregation had developed in different directions and stayed different despite their being part of the new denomination.

One of the worship professors at Emmanuel College in Toronto refers to our worship tradition as “ordered liberty.” We have enough order to hold us together but enough liberty to enable differences to exist and thrive. I tell you, it makes it really interesting for rural clergy who serve one congregation that likes its Methodist roots and ways and another congregation that prefers its Presbyterian ones.

In one of the congregations I served about 20 years ago, was an older woman who remembered taking part in the church union debate. She was a member, so despite her young age, she was allowed to vote. She told me that a few older people tried to sway her vote, but she told me that she made up her own mind. When she died, the family used one of her 75 year old certificates from the Presbyterian church as her funeral bulletin cover. While, there were people in the congregation who were older, but she had been a member the longest.

A great deal has happened in the United Church in the last 99 years - my personal memory does not go back much more than 50 - or to the time of our 50th. I’ve been ordained, or preparing for ministry for about 40 of those years and I remember well some of the controversies and discussions through the years. I can say that we have never been a denomination to avoid controversy if we felt a path was right and faithful. We were among the first to ordain women, to attempt to educate people in the pews with the same kinds of biblical knowledge that their ministers learned in seminary, to ordain people who were gay or lesbian, to adopt language for God and for humans to reflect our growing understandings of the Holy and to begin a process of reconciliation with Aboriginal peoples and recently to allow those same folks to develop in ways that are right for them. I’m forgetting a bunch of changes but I'm sure that each of you can think of at least one!

When we celebrate the anniversaries of organizations (unlike wedding anniversaries or birthdays, which only apply to one couple or one family) we are not only, looing at the past and past visions, but we are also looking toward the future in a way that individuals and couples cannot expect to. A couple on their 25th Anniversary can often look forward to their 50th but once that milestone is reached, 50 more is unrealistic.

Here we are at 99, entering out 100th year. We are standing looking both backwards and forwards and wondering what the Spirit is calling us to do and be, not only in this relatively new millennium but in our 2nd century of seeking to be Christ’s faithful followers.

Despite my digression into United Church history, I feel I should go back to the lectionary and pick up on the continuing saga of the people of Israel and how they developed as they did. Since last Sunday we have leapt from the boy Samuel receiving his first call to a much older one receiving a delegation who have come to appeal for a king. Since their time in the wilderness had come to an end, the people of Israel did not have a king; they were led by spiritual leaders or judges who governed and settled disputes - but the people were not satisfied. And now, it seems, Samuel had done no better with his own sons than Eli had! Change was needed.

The people looked at the nearby nations. All the cool and powerful nations had kings and they wanted to be cool and powerful and THEY WANTED A KING. This distressed Samuel because it was, well, an indictment against God and the system he believed God wanted for the chosen people.

As you heard, God told Samuel to give the people what they wanted, as long as they knew what they were getting themselves into! A king would be no different in a way than the Pharaohs who taxed and enslaved them. Besides all this, a king would send their children into battle where many would die.

These days, when Canadians think of a king (or queen) we have had a maximum of about 5 which any of us could remember personally. Since the power of kings (in the British Commonwealth) is largely symbolic we have no reason to fear a king or queen. Barring some kind of tragedy we know that Charles will be succeeded by William and he by George. And Prime Ministers and parliaments in the UK and in Canada will come and go.

Yes, we know the eventual outcome of Samuel’s quest. Saul was appointed king and when that did not work as planned, David became king and then his son Solomon. David built the palace and Solomon the grand temple. David’s reign was remembered with such nostalgia that the hope for the Messiah was based on this legendary reign. Despite his popularity, David had major flaws and after Solomon’s reign things kind of fell apart.

But what of our hopes and expectations? Isn’t all desired change about hopes and expectations. Our neighbours to the south of us are facing a choice this fall- who will be president - a Republican with a lengthy criminal record or an ageing Democrat. I have lots of opinions but Im not preaching or posting them on the internet.

The question for us as people of faith, in our own country is what direction is our faith calling us to follow? Are we voting or advocating for ourselves, for our province and region, for our country or for a greater good. And how, to we discern that, with the current state of Israel at war with Hamas, Russia in a war with Ukraine, and many countries in the global south in danger of social and environmental collapse. What are the cool nations doing? And should we be striving to be cool, or is it faithfulness that should draw us forward.

What will our next 99 years as a denomination look like? What will our next decade look like as Christians, as Canadians look like and how will our decisions shape this direction?

Amen!

NO SERMON - Attending the Living Skies Regional Council Meeting

2 Corinthians 6: 1-13
Psalm 9
Mark 4: 35-41

It Comes in Waves”

I was a hospital patient and placed in a square 4 bed room. It was noisy and I did not have much opportunity for a lot of sleep. Many of you know what THAT is like! One night, when I did actually manage to fall asleep, I was awakened by an odd noise. It came and went in an repetitive kind of fashion. I tried to make sense of what I was hearing and came to the conclusion that the maintenance staff was polishing floors in the hallway with one of those things a worker drove, like a small zamboni! It was going up and down the length of the corridor; back and forth, back and forth. At some point I had to get out of bed to go to the washroom and I discovered that my new roommate was too warm so the staff had brought her a fan and it was oscillating back and forth, back and forth. I gather that the maintenance staff don’t actually polish floors at 3am! I should have known that! Once I knew what the noise was, I could put my concerns aside and tune out the sound and go back to sleep, or at least to a level of sleep possible in a hospital!

The province of Prince Edward Island, where I grew up, is an island, obviously! Before 1997, when the Confederation Bridge opened, most people who wanted to leave or to go there, had to take a ferry. There were other options but the ferry was the most common. It was a great break from the tedium of driving long distances. You could sit and relax, watch TV, play a few video games, get something to eat, or talk with friends who happened to be on the same crossing. It was a rare day that you didn’t see someone you knew. The ferry company that ran the ferry to and from New Brunswick also served the absolute best clam chowder you could find anywhere - and, in later years, you could also buy a can or two to take home! It was great.

Unless!

Unless it was windy!

If it was too windy they tied the boats up and you had to wait for the winds to die down. I recall one crossing that was close to that, “we gotta tie up the boats” wind speed where 3/4 of the people were in the washroom, with motion sickness and the rest of us were sitting in the lounge trying not to look out of the windows. I would look to my left and see nothing but sea and to my right and see nothing but sky and then it would switch. It was hard to walk without holding onto something or banging into someone else and going outside, while possible, was not encouraged as it was also pouring rain.

Or, it was great unless it was the middle of winter and the winter ferries which had to have ice breaking capabilities were not really up to the task; in order to cross the Strait they had to back up and ram the ice and ride up over the top to make it crack, advance a few feet and then back up again and ram and ride up on the ice and advance a few more feet, and so and so on, The crossing that took less than an hour in summer was taking a number of hours!

In Jesus’ day it seems that travelling on the sea was part of their lives. Some people lived on the sea and were commercial fishermen. Some booked passage on a boat to get from point A to point B. It would have been a means of trade between various parts of the Roman Empire as well. Violent and unpredictable storms were a part of this life. Today’s story is about a sudden storm which came up when Jesus and his disciples were on a boat, crossing from one side to the other. I have no idea how big the boat was, compared with the small commercial vessels we know today but it seems that others were also caught in this sudden storm. Jesus was not worried; he was sleeping, as you heard!

Possibly the most famous ship ever built, the RMS Titanic, was an enormous ocean liner which hit an iceberg and sank on her maiden voyage from Southampton to New York on the night of the 15th of April 1912, with an enormous loss of life, because they thought her invincible AND because they were not carrying enough life-boats.

About 1,700 years ago, a church leader now referred to as St Augustine is supposed to have said, “those who sing, pay twice.” In the history of the church we have done a great deal of praying set to music. I would venture to say that even in the Protestant churches, who supposedly emphasize the value of scripture, we know more hymns than we know scripture and we sing of our faith frequently.

When I think of hymns that appeal to sea-faring folks, the first few that come to mind are, “Will Your Anchor Hold”, then, “Jesus, Saviour Pilot Me,” “I Feel the Winds of God Today,” “Simon, Simon a Fisherman,” “Jesus You Have Come to the Lakeshore.”

As my reference to St Augustine indicates, when we speak of faith in the church we don’t really speak of it; we tend to SING of it- for a variety of reasons, singing has the ability to raise our hearts to new heights or to bring our souls to new depths. Our hymns, or singing cover a very broad spectrum of faith expression. Our hymns are, thinly veiled prayers.

No matter if it is a hymn of the sea, or of the desert or of the afterlife, each and every hymn has been written to speak to a particular need and to encourage an appropriate expression of faith - God is with us; we are not alone.

We sing “Faith of our Fathers,” in its traditional or newer versions and it is that strong human faith in the face of adversity which we celebrate and seek.

For the first hymn on another Sunday we may sing, “Great is Thy Faithfulness,” and as it outlines the various ways in which God has been found to be faithful; as singers we can connect our own journey to that of the hymn’s author.

When we are feeling dried out and lifeless we can channel our inner teenager, perhaps and sing, “Give me oil in my lamp,” or “It Only Takes a Spark.” Over 40 years ago, a student minister who became a good friend and mentor of mine learned the “camp version” of that hymn while at a church camp on the shores of PEI and when she returned to theological school in September she sang it the camp way. She told me that the professors looked over their glasses at her and rolled their eyes! But, it meant more to her that way after singing it at a campfire while listening to the sound of the water on the shore and swatting mosquitoes!

In some ways faith is about nostalgia, about remembering the “good old days” when we were younger and sang those hymns to the often irregular notes of a battered pump organ but it must also mean something here with our friends in this church, or online over the net or in other places where we find ourselves. Faith and a sense of God’s presence do not happen in the past, or in some awaited future, but in there here and now where we live our lives, however imperfect we think they are.

Let us sing always.

In the words I learned long ago:

Sing our loud sing out strong don’t worry that it’s not good enough for anyone else to hear, but sing, sing a song.

Amen.

NO SERMON - I have the Sunday Off!