Friday, 7 February 2014

Friday, February 7, 2014


Friday, February 7, 2014
Isaiah 56:1-8

This opening text has been described by some as among one of the most inclusive promises made in the entire Bible. Frequently, the role of the foreigner found amongst the people of Israel was ambiguous. For example, Leviticus 19:34 stipulates aliens were to be protected and welcomed, while according to Ezra 9:1-4, some of the purity laws advocated the strict segregation of Israelites from other outsiders.

This passage in Isaiah reflects an inclusive salvation which constitutes an “international gathering of prayer” of many faithful peoples. The Lord would provide a radical deliverance of peoples in which the ingathering could include not only Israelite exiles, but was specifically expanded to previously excluded peoples referred to as “foreigners” and eunuchs”. 

This more generous and open acceptance can be considered as “politically unlikely,” according to Ingrid Lilly, because among these foreigners who were gathered might be found Ammonites and Moabites. These were peoples who had been traditionally interpreted as Israel’s enemy neighbours or the despised “other.” In the case of eunuchs, they had been ritually excluded from temple worship because they were considered to be blemished or impure.

However, it appears these old animosities or ritual exclusions could be overcome in this passage due to the fact that all people ‘joined in the Lord” were invited to find some common ground and worship and celebrate together despite their diverse social and political backgrounds. Can we find some inspiration today in this more accepting and inclusive vision offered here in Isaiah? Might this passage’s image of a diverse ingathering of peoples help us embrace the challenging, yet hopeful task of building reconciliation among all peoples, in part, through the use of ecumenism and interfaith dialogue? Does a faith in God and a commitment to worship the Lord also have implications for how faithful people treat each other? Isaiah is useful in getting people of faith to think about these possibilities.

-Terry Rothwell

Thursday, 6 February 2014

Thursday, February 6, 2014


Thursday, February 6, 2014
Mark 5:21-43

Today’s selection features two healing miracles by Jesus. You probably noticed that the story is really two stories woven together. Jesus is told about the serious illness of Jairus’ daughter and sets off. On his way, Jesus is interrupted by the woman with the hemorrhage, who touches the fringe of Jesus’ clothes. Once the episode with the woman is over, he continues onward. However, it would seem that this diversion prevented Jesus from arriving on time. Jairus’ daughter has died. Jesus, thankfully, does not despair. Perhaps making light of the situation (“[t]he child is not dead but sleeping”), Jesus brings her back to life.  

"Systems theory," something I'm learning about here at Trinity College, tells us that flexibility, humour, playfulness, and above all, resisting panic and anxiety, are key to seeing families, communities, and congregations through challenges. To paraphrase Edwin Friedman in his book Generation to Generation, our overly serious (or somber) way of dealing with problems is probably a bigger issue than the actual problem we are trying to solve. Are the parish council, committee, or vestry meetings you attend marked by playfulness, creativity, and humour, or finger-pointing, anger, and tension? 

Something else that jumps out at me right now is the description of the woman’s situation in verse 26: 

“She had endured much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had; and she was no better, but rather grew worse.”  

I wager that you, either directly or indirectly can relate in some way to the predicament of the woman as just described. A chronic condition. A long and unfruitful search for a treatment. Vast sums of money spent. Living with uncertainty. A loss of hope. Friends and family unsure of how to help. Despair contributing to the already ill health. 

This woman’s circumstance was certainly made worse by the way in which her condition was handled under the law of her culture. The flow of blood rendered her unclean. She would have been something of a social outcast. She was even unable to find comfort in corporate worship, as she would not have been able to join in on worship at the synagogue. 

Her miraculous healing is just that: miraculous. Good news. A radical change in her health and social status. We can look to this and find inspiration for ourselves. A call to move beyond our despair and a clinging on to faith. Contemporary readers are challenged to be radically welcoming rather than complacent and uncritical of the status quo. 




And what of the sandwiching of the two healing stories we have here? Take a moment to read the passage again, thinking about the possible significance of having these stories handed down to us as they are. To me it is noteworthy that Jesus accepts this rerouting. While on his way to attend to the daughter of someone of high status in the synagogue, Jesus takes the time to look after the woman, someone of low (or no) status. 

It can be frustrating when interruptions or surprises interfere with our plans, but maybe we need to learn to accept the interruptions and inconveniences as opportunities put before us by God.

-Matthew Kieswetter

Wednesday, 5 February 2014

Wednesday, February 5, 2014


Wednesday February 5, 2014  
Psalm 72

This majestic psalm would appear to have been written as a royal psalm – asking God’s blessing on the king.  But not just any blessing.  This psalm-prayer beseeches God to raise up a just king, a righteous king, one whose reign encompasses the poor and needy.  This king will be strong, and thus will be respected by other royalty.  It is the ideal description of a benevolent, kind and compassionate ruler.

This psalm brings to my mind the great coronation anthem composed by Georg Frederick Handel, Zadok the Priest.  Although Handel used text from the first chapter of the First Book of Kings, the sentiment is very similar.  Handel composed the anthem for the coronation of George II, and it has been used at every British coronation since.

As you read and reflect on this psalm, I invite you to think about how the king (or queen) or any other state leader could ensure that all of the qualities attributed to that high office could be accomplished.  It would seem to me that only when we, as citizens and subjects, work with political leaders, that we can assure that all people are treated with justice, mercy, and compassion.  This is our calling, as the Gospels remind us over and over.

-Rev'd Paul Kett

Tuesday, 4 February 2014

Tuesday, February 4, 2014


February 4, 2014
St. John 6: 41 - 51

This portion of the Gospel of St. John gives us the opportunity to be aware of the different ways in which the ministry of Jesus was offered in an environment which was not always warm and welcoming. John's Gospel has just moved from the experience of the physical feeding of five thousand people. Individuals who sat down and shared in that moment stood up, not only physically satiated, but also aware that twelve baskets of food had been gathered of leftovers. They had been abundantly blessed, far more than they could ever ask or imagine. It is important to note that as we look at this portion of the Gospel John has just completed the previous passage with Jesus saying," You must work, not for this perishable food, but for the food that lasts, the food of eternal life." (John 6:27)

The passage we are looking at today points to the debate and discussion which the words of Jesus generated. People caught up in the conversation fuelled with the energy of their own agendas and insights, failed to value and appreciate the message which Jesus offered. They were focussed on the physical reality that thousands of people had been fed. They were caught up in the tradition of the story of their past, where manna had seen them through the experience of the wilderness. They could not grasp how this Rabbi, who they knew to be,"...the son of Joseph...", ( John 6:42 ), could now be the one who offered them the Bread of Life in his own body.

I suggest that being caught up with definitions and the minutiae of divine encounter is a barrier to the movement of the Spirit of God which was not only erected by those listening to Jesus in Capernaum, but also by individuals trying to set limits on God's actions in their own lives, in today's world. We leave little or no room for divine mystery in our own lives. As a young person, I heard a sermon, ( offered by my father ) , in which he offered an insight into our relationship with God. He said, " The totality of God can never be caught up within a net of words". Where do we leave room for Holy Mystery ? Where do we leave room for the movement of the Spirit of God within us ?

As you share in the Sacrament of the Holy Communion, as you share in, "... the bread of life...", I invite you to do so with an openness of spirit that your souls may be fed and your lives renewed to accomplish God's mission and ministry in God's world and in your own life.    

-Rev'd Canon Christopher Pratt

Monday, 3 February 2014

Monday, February 3, 2014


Monday, February 3, 2014
Hebrews 11: 1 - 12

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the assurance of things not seen.  These are familiar words, used within our worship services regularly.  Whenever I hear them, I remember all kinds of situations in which they have been said, and there is comfort and strength in that.  

But sometimes, I find that familiar words have lost freshness, so I look at a different translation to see if there is something new to hear. The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this faith, is the firm foundation under everything that makes life worth living. It’s our handle on what we can’t see.

Trust in God - under everything that makes life worth living - a handle. For many years, scientists have spoken of and searched for a “unifying quantum principle” that will hold and explain every particle and principle in the universe.  We need to feel that our world is not random, not chaotic, but purposeful and ordered (we just don’t always see the pattern).

Further in the passage, Anyone who wants to approach God must believe both that he exists and that he cares enough to respond to those who seek him.  I love the second part of that: he cares enough to respond.  In some ways it is easier to believe that God exists (something/someone bigger than us), but it can be hard to believe that we are important enough to God that he cares and will respond (we are so small and insignificant).

Looking at the people mentioned in the passage (and the list goes on quite a bit), I am encouraged that it is not a list of perfect people, or of ones whose lives were easy or even terribly successful, but ordinary ones whose faith in God meant that God could do something extraordinary with them.  I can join the list by trusting that God is, that he cares, that he will respond, and that he will keep his promises.

I choose to take hold of that “handle.”

Blessings
Ann Kelland

Sunday, 2 February 2014

Sunday, February 2, 2014


Sunday, February 2, 2014
Psalm 42

As I began reading this Psalm I was immediately brought back to my childhood, singing the lovely song “As the Deer Pants for the Water.” While that song seems to have begun as a paraphrase of this psalm, the finished product, as far as I can remember, doesn’t include the bits about sadness (42:3, 42:5, 42:11), harassment (42:3, 42:10), and abandonment (42:9). Realistically, the song probably wouldn’t fly in most congregations with the dark elements left in. Except on Good Friday.

What resonates in this psalm for me is neither the nature imagery nor the expressing of honest doubts, though I do appreciate those aspects. What I am particularly drawn to is the back-and-forth interplay of doubt and reassurance, sadness and hope. To me this psalm speaks to the paradox of Good Friday, which is so tragic, but an integral part of our ‘good news.’ 

I don’t know about your experience, but I think a lot of folks imagine the church as a community of people who have overcome all doubt, all grief, all shortcomings. Some people feel guilt for not being on board with a certain doctrine, or wrestling with a fault of character or addiction. I think this psalm shows us that we can have hope and faith while still wrestling with our human imperfections and our honest questioning. 

A mentor of mine once told me that it is important for us to remember that we are Christians not because we are perfect, but because we are forgiven. I don’t know if we do a good job of making this known. As long as the perception in society is that there is a requirement of perfection before one become a Christian, then many sincere seekers will never feel worthy to set foot into a church. If we can better express our human struggles and our humble faith, then I think we will more adequately welcome others and live lives marked by compassion and love.

-Matthew Kieswetter

Saturday, 1 February 2014

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Saturday, February 1, 2014
Romans 8: 14-21

          

            For many people the concept of being alone is a reality of life.

            We may have out lived our life partners, never found someone
with whom we could share our life, are physically or emotionally
distant from our families, or are cut off from communicating with people
around us, no matter what the cause, we may feel totally alone.

            The experience of solitude is an experience which some people
willingly seek out. A movie actress, from another generation is remembered
by her heavily accented declaration, " I want to be alone." ( Anyone reading this
message can contact me to confirm this reference ! )

            Others seek out solitude for the positive experience of
entering into a closer relationship with God. They seek out silence. They
yearn to escape the whirlwind of activity which sweeps through
the daily experience of life.

            The prayer of silence, offered in solitude, wells up from
deep within our being, perhaps from a depth not too familiar, nor
comfortable to us. I suggest that it is in that moment, referred to by
the writer of the Epistle to the Romans, that we speak to God
with intimacy and love, saying, " Abba, Father".

            As much as the concept of being alone is the reality of
life which may be perceived in the external ways which I have
mentioned, the true reality is, that as children of God, seeking
to live our lives with an awareness of God's abiding presence
in our lives, we are never alone.

            It is that abiding presence which gives us hope and
strengthens our resolve to move through whatever situation
we are in, in the confidence that we are not alone.

-Rev'd Canon Christopher Pratt