Thursday, April 30, 2015

Thursday, April 30, 2015 

Luke 6. 39-49 

Judging

How often do we find ourselves in the position of making a snap assessment on someone we've just met, and then thinking, maybe we really need to think be thinking about our own self, our own history, before we pass judgement. That's what I hear Jesus saying in this story from Luke, about the blind leading the blind. Can we really expect to be of help to others if we haven't faced up to our own shortfalls? I recall occasions where I've been asked by people to help them in their relationship with each another; perhaps the old advice "walk in each other's moccasins for a bit and look at the world from that vantage point" is advice to be sensitive, that there may be more than one perspective to view from any given point. If each of us were to pause and reflect on how the other may be viewing things, then we can broaden our insight, and grasp that life is often more complex. With this acceptance and understanding, perceived barriers   often melt away and healing becomes fact. Jesus is a master in waking us... to expand our consciousness!

Archdeacon Ken Cardwell

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Luke 6:12-26

Reading the Bible From the Margins, by Miguel A. De La Torre, professor of Theology at the Iliff School of Theology challenges our traditional interpretations of the Bible and seeks to redefine Christianity from the margins of society. According to De La Torre, God’s love and salvation come to us not from the prosperous centre but from the oppressed margins. Jesus was not born into wealth, but into the filth and poverty of a stable.

The focus, then, of our public theology and communal praxis is intimately linked through the experience of the poor. The Beatitudes that Jesus reveals in his sermon are not something to be taken metaphorically; rather, the literal understanding shows us that those who linger on the margins, who are oppressed by economic and social systems, who are reviled and rejected due to their race, their gender, their sexual orientation – these are the people who are truly blessed before God, and it is God who is revealed through them.

Jesus’s call to his disciples – to us – requires us to respond to the poor, to experience God through their eyes. The Christian faith is a faith of marginality, a faith expressed at the liminality of our world. It rejects the accumulation of wealth and power. The Beatitudes are, therefore, a demand to abandon our wealth and power and follow Jesus in the liberation of God’s people. All people.

- Joshua Zentner-Barrett

Monday, April 27, 2015

Monday, April 27, 2015

Psalm 44

     This morning I read about refugees trying to reach Italy. Twelve Christians were thrown into the sea before the others physically locked arms together to save their lives. Those who hated them for their faith could not overcome this grip on each other and throw the entire group into the sea. Now; those responsible for tossing the others overboard are charged with murder. The surviving Christians are witness to their martyrdom. Their grip on each other saved their lives in the face of raw terror at sea.

     We tend to think of the oppression of the faithful as events from long ago. But the newspapers are full of recent stories. The Sunni and Shiite factions of Islam are in the grips of a worldwide civil war at the moment. Various western countries seek to interject themselves into this epic war, naming one side or the other as ‘terrorists’ as the political expediency of the moment demands. The only constant in this struggle seems to be access to oil, who controls it and who makes profit from it. Apparently, western countries are willing to put our own soldiers in harm’s way to safeguard this commodity. 

     Extreme right-wing factions in many countries, including the United States seek to break down the separation of church and state and establish powerful theocracies. Parts of Nigeria, Syria and Iraq have been overrun by more militant forms of these groups, dictating by sword and gun who shall live and die according to a strict interpretation of religion. I examine text released from these war zones. The armies that commit such genocidal atrocities claim that God has given them the victory each time they kill children, rape all the women and burn all the houses. In time of war, and most recently in time of political debate, all sides claim that God is on their side and has abandoned the other side. From the time of David to our own time, powerful armies struggle with one another to dominate territory. Palestine has been in such a tug of war almost forever. And everyone claims God is their right hand.

     In the light of these recent religion-driven attacks on humanity, the first eight verses of Psalm seem very frightening. The singer credits God for all the victories over the enemies of Israel. God “crushed” the enemy. The singer does not claim that their “swords” or “arms” defeated the enemy but the “light of God’s face”, for he “loved them”. The singer says the people “pushed back enemies” and “trampled their foes” through the name of their god. He says he does not trust his “bow” and his “sword” but instead trusts his God. I find similar and even identical expressions in the press releases of the terrorist groups in the world today.

     Does this mean I do not believe a word of Psalm 44? Far from it! I’m just reflecting on it in a more historical than a religious context. I think it could have been written by any of the warring groups active in the middle-east today. 

     From verse 9 on, the singer bemoans how God has abandoned the people and their enemies have triumphed. His words are poetic, but the content is defeatist:

You gave us up to be devoured like sheep and have scattered us among the nations.

You sold your people for a pittance, gaining nothing from their sale.

You have made us a reproach to our neighbors, the scorn and derision of those around us.

You have made us a byword among the nations; the peoples shake their heads at us.

      Then, in classical form, the singer debates with God. He makes the case for the innocence of Israel.  

All this came upon us, though we had not forgotten you; we had not been false to your covenant.

Our hearts had not turned back; our feet had not strayed from your path.

But you crushed us and made us a haunt for jackals; you covered us over with deep darkness.

If we had forgotten the name of our God or spread out our hands to a foreign god,

Would not God have discovered it, since he knows the secrets of the heart?

Yet for your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.

     Finally, the singer calls God to AWAKE. The assumption is that if Israel is innocent, then God must be asleep and unable to see the suffering of his people.

Awake, Lord! Why do you sleep? 

… Rise up and help us; rescue us because of your unfailing love.

     There are a number of assumptions made by the singer of this psalm. One is that God is always right. And beside that, the singer assumes that God is always on the side of his chosen people. A false assumption, rising from these two, is that whatever the chosen people do will also always be right, because God is always on their side. This false assumption leads the people of Israel to veer from the path of goodness and righteousness so many times that it takes the entire Old Testament of stories to record them. In all the stories, when the people veer away from God’s will, they are ‘abandoned’ by God, their enemies attack them, famine strikes them or some other disaster gives them a clue that they are not following a righteous path. THEY wake up, not God. Their prophets plead with them to come back to the Lord, and sometimes they do. Sometimes they kill the prophets and carry on to deeper darker disaster. Still, the thread of the story is that God never abandons his people.

     I see so many religious groups at home and abroad acting from the assumption that because they love God, God loves them and approves of anything they do and say. Big mistake! I see so many tangled up in politics and war, all in the name of God. And I see them all headed for disaster. As the singer in Psalm says: “We are brought down to the dust; our bodies cling to the ground.” 

     The other night, I was fortunate to be part of a presentation to a group of people who are part of Stephen Ministries, some Lutherans, some Presbyterians, some others. What guides them are the straightforward teachings of Jesus: “Love your neighbours – Love one another – Take care of widows and orphans”. They are trained lay ministers and one of the stories that shapes their work is the Good Samaritan. I do not imagine them thinking in terms of calling on God to battle their enemies or wipe out vast territories to claim them for the Lord. I imagine them peacefully offering the love of Jesus to neighbours around them, as they see folks in need of help.  

     As I re-read Psalm 44 I realize God is not asleep, WE are.

Peter Mansell Easter, 2015

Saturday, April 26, 2015

Sunday, April 26, 2015

Matthew 7:15-29

“By their fruits you shall know them.”

One theme seems to unite today’s Scripture: you can spot a community animated by the Spirit of Jesus by its fruits. First impressions don’t always equal reality. Instead, stick around awhile, and the truth will come out. Ravenous wolves dressed as sheep are still ravenous wolves. You can’t tell the quality of a tree until fruit-bearing season, but when the time comes, the outcome is clear. Thorn bushes produce thorns, not grapes. The community that claims Jesus as Lord may actually have sworn allegiance to another Master. The storms of life reveal the quality of the foundation.

            Radio journalist Chana Joffe-Walt tells the story of a relationship whose quality is revealed by its fruit.  Chana adores her much younger sister, Maya, but realizes that not everyone shares her affection. Although she has not been diagnosed on the autism spectrum, Maya does have many of the characteristics, including touch-sensitivity, lack of eye contact, obsessive and intense interest in one topic, and difficulty with social interactions like conversation.

            As a result, Maya had profound difficulty making friends. Her family invited classmates over, but after one play date, they wouldn’t return.  Maya’s set of challenges proved too great for her potential friends. In the fourth grade, Maya descended into darkness, Chana describes. She was increasingly irritable and easily upset. She became violent, and had to be hospitalized briefly.

            Then, Maya met Charlotte at summer camp, and they immediately hit it off.  They shared many of the same interests, and they found each other funny. According to Charlotte, “Maya was perfect.”

            Charlotte believed in Maya, and she came alive. Chana has seen more growth in her younger sister since she met Charlotte than all the years before then.  Maya had a found a friend, and the fruit was evident.

            As L’Arche founder Jean Vanier constantly reminds us, “To love someone means to reveal to them their beauty.” Charlotte reflected Maya’s beauty back to herself, and she blossomed.

            Jesus challenges us all to have these kinds of relationships, to build these kinds of communities, to support this kind of society. Are we up to the challenge?

-David Shumaker

To hear the whole story of Maya and Charlotte, see the full episode of the radio program here: http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/525/call-for-help 

Saturday, April 25, 2015 (St. Mark)

Saturday, April 25, 2015 (St. Mark the Evangelist)

Mark 1:1-15

Today’s reading comprises the opening passages of the Gospel of Mark, which is the shortest of the four canonical Gospels. Here we encounter John the Baptist proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. John is reported to have baptised Jesus in the Jordan River. Now, Jesus’ openness to being baptized with water to symbolically cleanse himself of an internalized sin has troubled many over time. For example, why is it that if Jesus was God incarnate and sin free, as many Christian traditions have taught, would he then engage in a ritual that would place himself under John’s authority and be baptized? Some have argued that we can make sense of this by realizing that Jesus started out on his path to ministry as a disciple of John the Baptist. Others have maintained that it was in fact Jesus who needed to sanctify John’s baptismal ministry at that time, not the other way around. Perhaps what we can be most certain of was that John the Baptist was a highly influential figure who inspired many Jews in Jesus’ lifetime by courageously challenging the unjust religious and political authority figures of his time. John the Baptist, like Jesus, shared a critique of the dominant political and religious cultural leadership at that time and both would ultimately offend powerful figures and ultimately lose their lives in part for being willing to challenge the status quo of their day. 

- Terry Rothwell

Friday April 24, 2015

From The Record, Photo by Peter Lee, Record Staff

Psalm 69:31-36

Let the oppressed see it and be glad;  you who seek God, let your hearts revive.

For the Lord hears the needy, and does not despise his own that are in bonds.

This week, our local newspaper in Waterloo Region featured a story entitled , "Local Armenians mark centenary of their darkest moment."  Today, in the Anglican Church of Canada calendar, we remember Armenian Christians killed by the Ottoman Empire during the First World War and other Martyrs of the 20th century.  For All the Saints:  Prayers and Readings for Saints' Days, helps us to honour these martyrs:

Martyrs are Christians who have been put to death because they chose to remain faithful to the gospel and counted “the truth as it is in Jesus” dearer than life itself. In the twentieth century more Christians suffered for this reason than at any other time in the Church’s history — there are the three million Armenian Christians who died under Turkish brutality during the first World War; the million Orthodox who perished in the Soviet Union in the 1920’s and 30’s; the unknown number of Albanians who disappeared in their government’s efforts to suppress Christianity; the hundreds of Germans, both Protestants and Catholics, who died because they resisted Hitler and his Nazi regime; the Burmese Christians who were killed simply because they believed in Christ; the hundreds of African Christians who suffered because they condemned the terrorism of colonial authorities and black nationalists alike; and the many who were killed because their Christian witness made them oppose racism or social and economic injustices.

For All the Saints goes on to say, "today's memorial is meant to be a small act of resistance, a refusal to be silent in the face of terror and injustice".  As we are all too aware, Christians, and people of other faiths, continue to suffer and die for their beliefs. What small act of resistance will make today?

Thursday, April 23, 2015 (St. George the Martyr)

Thursday, April 23^rd, 2015 (The Feast Day of Saint George)

1 John 5:13-20

               In recent days I had the opportunity of attending the National Prayer Breakfast in Ottawa. Sharing the breakfast table was a representative from the Lebanese Embassy. He noted the Arabic letter, “N”, pin which I was wearing. I told him that I wear it because of the fact that in the part of our global village which he calls home there are individuals who paint the letter on the exterior walls of homes and businesses to indicate that the people who live and work in those settings are followers of the Nazarene, and as Christians are being centered out for persecution and prosecution. He responded that he was only too aware of the tragedies  being experienced so close to his home and noted that there were others at the Breakfast who were wearing similar pins in solidarity with people of faith whose lives were being lived on the edge of martyrdom.

               Rather than dwell on the acts of dragon slaying which have gotten St. George so much press through the years, and which have been embellished by myth and legend, I would rather focus on the nugget of history which is at the heart of the story of the person that has touched the lives of so many, for so long.

               George was an officer in an elite unit in the army. When the Emperor decreed that all should offer prayer to the Roman Gods, George refused and publically declared his faith as a follower of Jesus. The consequence of that act of faithfulness was a brutal martyrdom.

               From this 4^th century event there has sprung up a shining example of how the words from St. John’s first letter have rung true through the ages. “This letter is to assure you that you have eternal life. It is addressed to those who give their allegiance to the Son of God.”

               It is important for us, each in our own way, to follow the faithful example of St. George In the face of those who still persecute the Body of Christ in today’s world.    

The Reverend Canon Christopher B. J. Pratt

Rector Church of St. John the Evangelist

Ecumenical Officer of the Diocese of Huron

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

1 John 5:1-12

Most of the Bible is written in a straightforward way, but the writing style of 1 John is more like an intricate dance of ideas, where the same dance steps are often repeated with slight variations and different embellishments. The author frequently introduces one thought and starts to discuss it, but soon spirals off to consider another thought and then yet another, and eventually ends up back at the beginning, ready to explore something else or perhaps repeat the steps that have gone before.

Thus it is with today’s passage, which comes late in the letter and revisits many earlier ideas while introducing new ones.  Finally (in 5:13) the author zeroes in why he wrote this letter:

I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God,

so that you may know that you have eternal life.

Even this statement needs to be unpacked.  What does it mean to “believe in the name of the Son of God”?  Our passage refers to believe several times.  In 5:1 it is “believes that Jesus is the Christ”, and in 5:5 it is “believes that Jesus is the Son of God”.  These both mean the same thing, since the Christ (same as Messiah), is, by Psalm 2:7, also designated the Son of God and (by all of Psalm 2) is appointed by God as the King who will reign forever over all nations, bringing them into conformity with God’s will.  

Between these two references to believing, the author whirls by several other assertions:

• “born of God”
• “love God”
• “love the children of God” 
• “obey God’s commandments” 
• “overcome the world”.

Every one of these ideas was a major focus for the dance in previous chapters, and every one of these ideas reminds us of the life of Jesus and his teaching on how we are to follow him.  For example, “overcome the world” sends us back to 1 John 2:15-17 and refers to overcoming “the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride in possessions.” (2:16, ESV)  Each of the other assertions also is discussed more fully (and often circuitously) earlier in 1 John. In other words, without saying so, 1 John is really following the pattern of Psalm 2, where the Christ as king of all nations means that all nations will honor and follow the pattern and teaching of the Christ.  John is now telling us that to confess “Jesus is the Christ / Son of God” means much more than mere words; it means living our life in conformity with the way of Jesus, with the way he modeled and taught his disciples.

But now we come to the second half of today’s reading (5:6-12), and we find that the author suddenly takes the dance off in a whole new direction, exploring part of the dance where he hasn’t gone before.  Yet, after we work through this new part, we encounter verse 10 that bring us right back to the same theme, believe in the Son of God, as we found in the first half.  See how the author starts this section:

This is the one who came by water and blood, Jesus Christ, not with the water only but with the water and the blood.  And the Spirit is the one that testifies, for the Spirit is the truth. (5:6)

 What does it mean that Jesus Christ came by water and blood?  A sacramental, Eucharistic interpretation comes from John 19:33-35, when, on the cross, Jesus’ side was pierced and water and blood flowed out.  This interpretation, however, doesn’t really speak of Jesus’ coming as the Christ.  For this, let us first recall that Jesus’ public ministry began with his baptism, his coming by water.  At his baptism, the Spirit descended like a dove on him, and a voice from heaven said, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” (Mark 1:9-11) So the Spirit testifies that Jesus is the Son of God and affirms his baptism, his coming by water.  

What about coming by blood?  In the Bible, blood often means sacrificial death, and Christ’s coming by blood refers to his sacrificial death on the cross for us.  Indeed, Jesus himself (Luke 12:50) calls his impending death a baptism, a coming baptism causing him distress.  Jesus had his baptism of water at the beginning of his ministry and his baptism of blood at its end.  Just as a voice came from heaven after his baptism of water, shortly before his crucifixion (John 12:28-30) a voice came from heaven affirming that Jesus was glorifying the Father’s name.  So the Spirit testifies of his coming by blood.  Furthermore, these two times of a voice from heaven, along with one at the Transfiguration, are the only incidents the Gospels record when a voice came from heaven.  Therefore (1 John 5:7-8):

There are three that testify: the Spirit and the water and the blood, and these three agree.

Historical note:  This interpretation of Jesus coming by water and blood, of the baptism by blood, goes back a long way in church history, at least to the early third century, when St. Tertullian (On Baptism, ch. 16) gives this same interpretation, referring to the same scriptures.

Finally, Jesus not only calls his followers to take up the cross daily and follow him; he speaks of their deaths, like his own, as a baptism of blood.  Referring to his death, he asks his disciples (Mark 10:38):

Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?

Jesus thus asks his disciples if they can suffer as he does, if they will embrace martyrdom with willingness, so that they may share in his victory and joy afterwards.  The affirmation of this truth too goes back a long way in church history, to the very first martyrs, who met their death with anticipation and joy.  In the third century, St. Cyprian (c.200-258) wrote of the baptism of blood (Exhortation to martyrdom, Preface):

In the baptism of water is received the remission of sins, in the baptism of blood the crown of virtues. This thing is to be embraced and desired, and to be asked for in all the entreaties of our petitions, that we who are God's servants should be also His friends.

Indeed, Romans 8:16-17 affirms this truth for believers in all times:

It is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, …

if, in fact, we suffer with Christ so that we may also be glorified with him.

– Robert Kruse

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Psalm 39

Though this psalm seems, in many ways, to rail against God, I wonder, perhaps, if it is written as though at the end of life, when death is imminent but accepted. Verses 4 through 6 show our lives as a tiny pinprick of time, while God lingers on at the edges, blinking the decades past. God is always watching; in the desperation against our fears and in the declarations of our joy, God’s eyes are fixed firmly upon each event of our lives. 

It is striking, then, to hear the psalmist say, “For I am your passing guest, an alien, like all my forebears. Turn your gaze away from me, that I may smile again, before I depart and am no more.” Is this God being thrust away, that we might have a moment of peace even from the watchful eye of God? Perhaps. But I wonder if this is not a person lovingly telling God to go, and to watch out for those who are in need. 

“For you have been my companion, though my days are long and yours are but a heartbeat. Now, when I will soon be no more, go and be companion to those who live.” 

- Joshua Zentner-Barrett

Monday, April 20, 2015

Monday, April 20, 2015

Luke 4:14-30

As a student I write a lot of papers. An important part of a good paper is having a clear introduction, and if possible, one that is also intriguing. Of course, in writing papers I need to do my research, so I end up reading a lot of books and journal articles. To quickly sift through materials I find that reading the introduction is a good way of quickly assessing a resource’s usefulness. In the introduction the author basically says something like “this is what I think; this is what is what I’m going to do; and this is how I will do it.” 

It seems to me that what we have today in Luke 4:14-30 is Jesus’s introduction. It’s a powerful and challenging passage in which Jesus not only reads from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah, but he also seems to embody its message! It reveals Jesus as someone who saw his ministry as following in the path of the great Hebrew prophets who called the people of Israel back to faithfulness to God. This didn’t just entail ‘being religious,’ like adhering to some sacrificial system, or acting piously: ‘looking’ religious, or speaking in well-worn religious clichés. Most often it involved living in a just and mindful way, allowing one’s faith to be incarnated in one’s everyday life, both personal and public. This happened individually, in the home, and in societal systems.

What does today’s reading tell us about Jesus, and how he saw himself? Simply look to verses 18 and 19. He brings “good news to the poor,” not self-satisfaction to the rich and smug. He brings about “release to the captives,” not punishment for punishment’s sake. His healing touch provides “recovery of sight to the blind,” not catch phrases, slick salesmanship, and propaganda that obscure the reality of life’s challenges, or cause us to create false divisions between our physical and spiritual selves. In essence, Jesus’s ministry and passion result in “the oppressed go[ing] free.”   

He concludes his reading/proclamation by inaugurating an age and way foreshadowed in the “year of the Lord’s favour,” the year of Jubilee as outlined in Leviticus 25. The Jubilee year ensured that the needs of all the people of Israel were looked after. Slaves were freed, debts forgiven, and land went back to the original owners, giving priority to fairness and equitable distribution over monopoly and uninhibited accumulation of wealth. 

Based on our reading we might ask ourselves some hard questions: 

Is our religion so comprehensive, encompassing our whole lives? Or do we compartmentalize our faith, dusting it off and bringing it out, say, once a week for an hour or so? 

Has our experience of the Jesus story inspired us to live in solidarity with the oppressed, or has it occasionally brought about a partisan or mob mentality in which we accuse rather than heal and forgive? 

Do our churches encourage and support us in performing acts of love and justice, those undertakings that proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour? Or do we relegate such initiatives to the back pages of our bulletins and once-a-year special events?  

How might our liturgies and worship spaces change if our faith wasn’t just in our heads and on our lips, but radiated from our hearts and into the world through the working of our hands and the moving of our feet? (Interesting that those are the places where the nails pierced the body of Jesus!) 

Throughout the season of Lent Bishop Terry Dance offered a Bible study series at All Saints’ in Waterloo and Trinity in Cambridge. I had the chance to attend a few sessions and to lead a group study in Brantford that made use of the same Bible study resources.  The big take home message that I got from the study was that Jesus was not a gentle wisdom teacher who dealt in uncontroversial platitudes. He was frequently bumping up against those who held power in this world. When he spoke about himself he wasn’t just puffing himself up; he was most often deliberately creating a juxtaposition between his Way and the way of the Caesar, the way of death. 

I find a similar theme in the writings of one of my favourite Anglican thinkers, the twentieth century Episcopalian lay-theologian William Stringfellow:

The Bible is about the politics of fallen creation and the politics of redemption; the politics of the nations, institutions, ideologies, and causes of this world and the politics of the Kingdom of God; the politics of Babylon and the politics of Jerusalem; the politics of the Antichrist and the politics of Jesus Christ; the politics of the demonic powers and principalities and the politics of the timely judgment of God as sovereign; the politics of death and the politics of life; apocalyptic politics and eschatological politics.*

What are the marks of living as a subject of the Kingdom of God, and not the kingdom of Caesar and other lesser principalities and powers? How do we navigate the fine line between being 'in' but not 'of' the world, living, as Stringfellow put it, as 'aliens in a strange land?' What are concrete ways in which we as Church can welcome in the Kingdom of God and participate in the Good News?

- Matthew Kieswetter

* William Stringfellow, An Ethic for Christians and other Aliens in a Strange Land (Waco, TX: Word Books, Publisher, 1973), 14-15. 

Saturday, April 18, 2015

Saturday, April 18, 2015

1 John 3:11-18

Loving one another is a central message throughout 1^st John. This passage dramatically contrasts the ability to love, which requires laying down one’s life for others (v.16), with hate and murder (v. 15). The author refers to the example of Cain who is “from the evil one and murdered his brother” (v. 12). Cain appears throughout early Christian literature as villainous character, and here, his father is understood to be the “evil one,” perhaps meaning Satan. (Some ancient Jewish traditions portray the father of Cain as Satan). In this passage, the author particularly underlines the fact that love must be embodied in “truth and action” (v. 18). It is not enough to say, “I love you,” but one must be willing to manifest that love through action, even to the point of laying down one’s life for others. These are not easy teachings, but perhaps reinforce the need to remember those who have been willing to carry out such loving actions in order to assist other people.  We do not always know about such people, although every day, individuals commit selfless acts, risking their lives, in order to help others. We need to be familiar with these stories and hold them close as they provide strength and can serve as models. Real people are our moral guides.

- Alicia Batten

Thursday April 16, 2015 Mollie Brant, 1796

"The Three Faces of Molly Brant" (Iroquois, European, Loyalist):
1986 design used by Canada Post in a commemorative postage stamp.  

Depart from evil, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it.  Psalm 34:14

Molly Brant was a remarkable woman living in remarkable times.  She was a Mohawk leader born, in 1736, in what is now central New York State.  Her Mohawk name was Konwatsijayenni, “Someone Lends Her a Flower”.  (The Mohawks are one of the nations that make up the Iroquois).

Molly's outstanding leadership skills and gifts were evident early in her life and throughout her life she served as a bridge builder between the Mohawk nation and the British Crown and between Mohawk culture and spirituality and the Anglican Church.  During the American Revolution, Molly was a skilled negotiator and peacemaker who built consensus and contributed to a peaceful relationship between the Iroquois and the British as she sought to preserve what remained of Mohawk land.

She married, according to Mohawk rites so the marriage was not recognized in British law, Sir William Johnson, the British agent for Indian affairs and together they had nine children.  After Sir William's death in 1774 the white community continued to treat her with great respect and value her "wisdom in the ways of two cultures" (1)

During the American Revolution, Molly Brant remained loyal to the British Crown and convinced her people to do the same.  Like other Loyalists, she and her people paid a great price for their choice, and were exiled.  This could have embittered Molly but she settled in Ontario where she was a founding member of the town of Kingston and St. George's which was its first Anglican parish.

As we consider Molly's story, let us pray for the many women and men and children who seek peace and pursue it especially as they act as bridge-builders between cultures, nations, religions and a host of other attributes that can divide us.

Let us also pray for all those who been exiled or become refugees because of being on the losing side of wars.

And finally, let us pray for ourselves that we may "depart from evil, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it".

Lord our God, you endued your servant Mollie Brant with the gifts of justice and loyalty, and made her a wise and prudent mother in the household of the Mohawk nation. May we ever give thanks to you, our Maker, and nurture one another in the knowledge of your power; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. (2)

(1) and (2) For All the Saints:  Prayers and Readings for Saints' Days, Anglican Church of Canada, 2007

Marilyn Malton

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

1 John 2:12-17

Whoever says, ‘I am in the light’, while hating a brother or sister, is still in the darkness. (2:9)

Do not love the world or the things in the world. (2:15)

I am juxtaposing the two verses above, just a few lines apart from each other in 1 John, as a way of highlighting how we must be careful with instructions such as those found in 2:15-17. If we read them too simplistically or in isolation, we risk getting the wrong message. Take also, for instance, Jesus’s words about the lilies of the field, clothed in glory. He goes on to say:  “And do not keep striving for what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying” (Luke 12:29). Interpreting this as saying that our health, our physical life, isn’t important is to ignore the healing miracles of Jesus, and his compassion for the crowds, for whom he multiplied bread.

So what then might we get from today’s passage? If there is a good love of the things of the world around us (for example, love for our neighbours, as Jesus taught us), then what kind of love of the world is harmful? Is it a love of something in itself, without being mindful of its source, in God? Is it an unhealthy clinging to something? Is it a selfish use of someone or something? I suggest that you give some time to thinking about what love, investment, and prioritizing in your life is healthy (or holy), and what isn’t. 

The ‘Johannine’ writings give us some tension to work through. The writer of the Fourth Gospel has told us that Jesus came into the world to redeem it, yet he came from God, not from the world. Nevertheless, he had compassion for it. Likewise, we, as Jesus’s disciples, are called to be in the world, but not of it. It can be baffling at times, but that’s why we have the resources and riches of our tradition; it’s why we have our reason; and it’s why we have each other.

- Matthew Kieswetter

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

I John 2:1-11

“[Jesus] is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world.”

Theologian Kathryn Tanner reminds us that sacrifice in the Bible is not first and foremost about wiping away fault or impurity. Instead, a cultic sacrifice most often involved a meal, and was meant to re-establish communion and fellowship between God and God’s people. 

            I find Tanner’s reminder a powerful entry into this passage in I John. Through Jesus, God reaches out to us to re-establish fellowship, to bring the complete storyline of humanity (including loneliness, despair and death) into the healing presence of God. God enters powerfully into our weakness.

            Years ago, I came across this evocative poem of Denise Levertov and revisit it during Holy Week and during the Easter season as one more way to open myself to fellowship with God.

Agnus Dei by Denise Levertov

Given that lambs 
are infant sheep, 
that sheep are afraid and foolish, and lack 
the means of self-protection, having 
neither rage nor claws, 
venom nor cunning, 
what then 
is this ‘Lamb of God’?

This pretty creature, vigorous 
to nuzzle at milky dugs, 
woolbearer, bleater, 
leaper in air for delight of being, who finds in astonishment 
four legs to land on, the grass 
all it knows of the world? 
With whom we would like to play,
whom we’d lead with ribbons, but may not bring 
into our houses because 
it would spoil the floor with its droppings?

What terror lies concealed 
in strangest words, O lamb 
of God that taketh away 
the Sins of the World: an innocence 
smelling of ignorance, 
born in bloody snowdrifts, 
licked by forebearing 
dogs more intelligent than its entire flock put together?

God then, 
encompassing all things, is 
defenceless? Omnipotence 
has been tossed away, 
reduced to a wisp of damp wool?

And we 
frightened, bored, wanting
only to sleep ‘til catastrophe 
has raged, clashed, seethed and gone by without us, 
wanting then 
to awaken in quietude without remembrance of agony,

we who in shamefaced private hope 
had looked to be plucked from fire and given 
a bliss we deserved for having imagined it,

is it implied that we 
must protect this perversely weak 
animal, whose muzzle’s nudgings

suppose there is milk to be found in us?
Must hold in our icy hearts 
a shivering God?

So be it.
Come, rag of pungent 
quiverings, 
dim star. 
Let’s try 
if something human still 
can shield you, 
spark 
of remote light.

- David Shumaker

Monday April 13, 2015

Monday, April 13, 2015

1 John 1: 1 – 10

I love the letters of John and particularly this first one.  They seem to me to be awash in love.  They are believed to have been written by “the beloved disciple”, John the Evangelist, and I feel that experience of being beloved comes through loud and clear.

John states very clearly that he is telling what he knows for a fact from personal experience.  From the first day, we were there… (The Message 1)  The Word of Life appeared right before our eyes … The infinite Life of God himself took shape before us. ( 2 )

The rest of this passage sounds very familiar to us in the Anglican communion because the verses are used in parts of the liturgy we say every week.

God is light, pure light; there is not a trace of darkness in him (5)

If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.  If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. (8-9 ESV)

The purpose of John’s writing is to encourage our shared life with God and Jesus and also with each other.  We can trust God to be “true to himself” (he is faithful) and to forgive us when we stumble and acknowledge the failure and are sorry.

This is comforting – strengthening, and encouraging – and supremely loving.

All I can say is Thank you.

Blessings

Ann Kelland