In this moment ...

The day seemingly ends where it began ... sitting at the dining room table at the lap top ...

And oh what a day it has been ... the Anniversary Service for St John's United followed by a lunch with food in abundance !!! Along with cakes that Ms H and her new BF created on Friday night during their sleep over, it was a feast that strained tables and tummies !

Then at 2:30 we gathered in the sanctuary to continue our day of celebration as Brian Nicholson and Rev. David Shearman presided at a Covenanting Service between the folks of the Flesherton Pastoral Charge, Northern Waters Presbytery and myself ... Brian came as the Presbytery rep presiding over the service, and David came to preach ... I feel honoured to call both men friends ... David since my first forays on the pre-internet ECUNET forums ... and Brian since my time of serving on the Board of FairHaven United Church homes in Vancouver and Burnaby ... they are colleagues and friends, and together we marked the new Covenant here with a liturgy full of joy in its fullest sense.

The service ended with a second lunch downstairs which had more food and more cake!!

Late in the afternoon as the shadows were lengthening and the evening was drawing near, I came home and started setting up the Halloween decorations in anticipation and preparation for the trick'r'treaters that were due to arrive ... with some help we got everything ready despite the intermitent snow, and by sundown the front yard looked fantastically spook-tacular!!!

Dinner of white chili (YUMMY !!!!!) came in fits and spurts between handing out buckets of candy !!! ... then when all had quieted down, yet more cake was served - this time to belatedly mark a 13th Birthday that had come earlier in the month ...

Looking back from here to where my day began ... I can only say it was a very good day filled with laughter, a few tears, and many more memorable moments with friends both old and new ... it was a beautiful way to mark the day, and tonight I am truly grateful for all of it !!

Good night ... and once again: Happy Halloween !!

Sermon for October 31st 2010 - Anniversary Sunday for St John's United Church, Flesherton Ontario

The story of Jesus Christ is this:
The people of this earth waited for a Messiah ... a Saviour ...
and only God would send a little baby king.
The child grew and began to question things as they were,
and ther man moved through his days and through this world,
questioning the system of kings and priests and marketplace.
He was called the New Creation, the New Covenant, the son of God,
who brought to all who listened, who saw, who understood
change and new life.
But Kings and corporations and churches of this world work very hard
to keep things as they are out into forever – AMEN.
And so they killed him, he who said Love one another
he who said feed my sheep.
For they didn’t want to share their bread and their wine.
Now the story should have ended there
except that the story has always been
that our God is the God of the Covenant.
The Good News is that in spite of our faithfulness - God is faithful,
And Jesus Christ was resurrected for God so loved the world
that he gave his only begotten Son,
that whoever believed might have everlasting life.
Listen you who have ears to hear,
Listen and sit down to bread and wine with strangers.
Feed his sheep ... love one another, and claim new life in his name.


We are those who are part of the story and heritage of this place – this congregation, this community, this building – this gathering we call The Church, who are here to claim and to share and most of all, to celebrate the new life offered in the name of the Risen Christ ...

For 148 years, a Church community has been part of the fabric of the community of Flesherton. 133 years in this building, going through the many changes and challenges that have been part of the history and heritage and the story of this place ... and oh, what a story it is ...

I spent part of this past week digging through drawers and cupboards in the offices and the upstairs fellowship room, and I unearthed a few wonderful treasures that provide a glimpse into the history of this place, and some of the happenings that have created this community of faith ...

It started with a reference to the first visits by the Methodist Circuit rider who was assigned to this area in 1850 ... it was noted in a brief history compiled my Irene Field that The Reverend S. Brownell came “with his library and toilet arrangements on his back” and travelled up and down the lines ministering to the people ... while most of his services were held in houses and school houses in the area, his very first communion – divine service – was held at Munshaw’s Bar !!

The building of the first timber framed Church which was located downtown not far from the current stop lights, began in 1860, and services were held in the building before its completion in 1861.

In 1874 the two Methodist groups – the Wesleyans and the New Connexion joined as one, and began dreaming of the future. In early 1877 the decision was made to build a new 40’ x 60’ foot brick building on a lot of land purchased from Mr Flesher himself.

History tells us that the corner stone was laid on May 24th 1877 and with 110,000 bricks made by Thomas Bowler of The East Backline and sold for $7 per thousand. Then rounding out the costs was brick laying at $3 per 1000, $150 dollars for the stone basement, $120 for window glazing, $75 for hardware (I don’t think the Duncan’s were in the hardware biz yet though), $300 for the roof, and 8000 board feet of lumber ... On November 11th 1877 the new building was opened and dedicated.

The services and celebration of dedication spanned two weeks of happenings – not unlike the 50th Anniversary service held in 1937. One significant footnote of the original dedication service was the delivery of the sermon by The Rev. Dr. Egerton Ryerson, the grand old man of Canadian Methodism in Upper Canada and the Province of Ontario ... Having Ryerson come here is a notable occasion.

I did a quick study of Ryerson’s life and learned quite a lot ... in 1836 he founded Upper Canada Academy in Coburg, in 1841 he became principal of Victoria College in Toronto, and in 1847 he founded The Normal School in St James Square in Toronto, which today is part of the University that bears Ryerson’s name.

Ryerson also founded the Christian Guardian in 1829, which would in time form the foundation of the modern United Church publication – The Observer, and in 1844 he became the superintendent of education for the Province of Upper Canada, a position he held until his retirement in 1876. As superintendent Ryerson was responsible for the establishment of the various School Acts that established Ontario’s education system as a world leader in revolutionary education innovation that has many aspects continuing to this day in our schools.

Having The Rev. Dr. Ryerson come to preside at the dedication services for this building is astounding – his term as Superintendent of Education had ended, and his tenure as President of the Methodist Church in Canada was winding down ... and here he stood marking the opening of this building !!

These people who lived six generations back and I(Us) ...
We are linked forever throughout history.
We are the flesh of their flesh, but even more,
We are the heart of their hearts,
For who they are, they gave away to those of us who followed ...
And the children of Israel (back generation after generation after generation)
And I are linked together throughout eternity,
For in the beginning was the Word
And through time the Word is spoken.
Those who hear the story live abundantly,
The love of God written on their hearts ...

Yet, as great as that moment might have been – as significant as the opening of this beautiful building was – it was merely the beginning of a new chapter in the life and work of this faith community ... After the building opened, the ministry of the faith community continued.

Digging in the drawers I found some other interesting tidbits of our history – our story ...

In 1898, the Womans’ Missionary Society of St John’s marked the death of Mr Flesher by sending his widow a beautiful letter that reads in part, “When we think of your dear husband’s constant Christian life, we feel assured that he has entered the holy of holies and beholds the King in his beauty and while you are left to mourn his loss – yet you have the unspeakable comfort of knowing that your loss is his gain. Earnestly, we petition our Father to comfort you in this sore bereavement and sustain you by His grace and mayyou be enabled to to claim the promises He has given to the widow and the fatherless ...”

The letter was signed by twelve members of the society.

In 1901, a letter was sent to the Trustees of the Church suggesting the placement of a private telephone line from the church to the home of J. Blackburns to allow him “to hear the gospel preached from Sabbath to Sabbath.” The letter was requesting the “most serious” approval and support of the Trustees.

Other tid-bits that turned up in my poking around in old files include the receipt issued in March of 1911, to Mr Bellamy for two years of RENT on pew #6 for the sum of $5. As I read this, I thought of the hymn ‘Come in and Sit Down’ that proudly proclaims – “no body here has a claim on a pew.” Apparently, that wasn’t the case in the past ... you not only claimed a pew, you paid rent for the privilege of USING a pew !

In September of 1888, a Mr Fred Ryder tendered for the construction of a new parsonage that was located at the corner of what is now Toronto Rd and Campbell St, where the Bell Canada building now stands ... Mr Ryder estimated it would take 12000 bricks, 60 bushels of lime, 8 yards of sand and he would build the house for $65 dollars for his labour. On the flip side, the total cost of the house was recorded: $65 for brickwork, $80 for the bricks, $7.50 for the lime, and $4.50 for the nails. Adding to this total of $157 were the expenses of $30 for shingles, $3.00 for more nails, $8.00 for tar paper, $35 for the shingling, and $5.00 for the chimneys – rounding off the price of the house at a whooping $238.00!!

A small photo of the house taken sometime in the 1920’s noted on the reverse that the house served as a manse – parsonage until sometime in the early 1920’s when the manse behind the current legion was purchased ... to me there is something delightfully ironic at being able to stand in my kitchen and look out the site where my predecessors once called home. In truth, I wrote much of this sermon sitting at my dining room table with both the parsonage site and the church steeple visible from where I sat ...

I’ve never understood those who say they don’t need the Church.
Mine is a profound need to worship and to live ...
... in solidarity with the community of the faithful.
Of course, I can pray by myself and make decisions by myself,
but it has to be in the context of the covenant that you and I have with God.
To love mercy in the midst of the unmerciful,
to do justice in the jaws of injustice,
to be humbly aware of God’s grace
Takes constant communion with God and the community.
To me, being faithful assumes LIFE in this community
which Christ called his Church.
To me the church is home ...

This place is our home. This Church and its many stories is our home – the place we find life ... sharing the Good News is what first drew people together to form a community of faith – it is what lead them to create this magnificent structure and it is what has kept us together worshipping, ministering and living together as a faith community. The story of this place has not been lacking in its challenges and its set backs ... there are tales of fights and decisions that were less than kind in their outcome, but despite it all, or perhaps IN SPITE of it all – St John’s as a building, a community, a church and a gathering of faithful people remains part of the fabric of Flesherton, and active in its mission to the territory first claimed by Rev. Brownell with his library and toilet arrangements on his back !!

We are part of a legacy of faith that stretches across a vast distance of time and space and that continues far beyond this moment. We, like the members, adherents, and clergy who are part of the history of this place, are part of a great cloud of witnesses who have strived day by day, step by step, and week by week, to share the Good News of the Gospel with our community and our world. We are part of the story – and the story is part of us ...

In the absence of a burning bush or a blinding light or a voice that claims us,
how does one know for sure that it is God who is calling?
Of course, the question could be asked:
How does one know anything for sure?
Perhaps this is where faith comes in ...
... and hope ... and love ... and prayer without ceasing ...
I do know that when the hand of God is laid on the should of our lives
somehow we do know.
We are even given the boldness to say,
“Here am I. Send me.”

The history of this place – this people – this Church, continues ... in 140 years perhaps another generation will gather to remember the fellowship, the knitting group, the dinners, the outreach, the Sunday school programme and the many things that we do, and continue to do as The Church ... in 140 years they will dig through the drawers and cupboards of this place and use the assorted pages and papers they find to speak reverently of our work and our ministry and to give thanks that we actively chose to live the calling of faith and respond in joy to the ministry God placed in our hands ...

May it be so, thanks be to God, let us pray ...

(italicized poems are by Ann Weems and found in her book "Family Faith Stories")

In preparation ...

After an 11am service, lunch, a 2:30 covenanting, then a fellowship tea with sandwiches, goodies, and cake it was time to head home and decorate the yard for All Hallow's Eve !!

It took an hour or so to track down the various boxes and containers, and assemble SOME of the decorations in the snow ... but it was very worthwhile, and the trick'r'treaters who came by all enjoyed the decorations and their laughter and whispers as they headed off to their next stop said it was ALL worth while !!

Happy Halloween !!!!

Laughter is the best medicine ...

I hear a dear friend is having some challenges on his health front ... so, in addition to offering him up in my prayers, I would like to offer him a dose of "good medicine." ... He's a prairie boy thru and thru, and in return for his care and friendship and support, I want to post this video clip as a gift of laughter to him ...

Get better my friend !!!!
We're thinkin (and praying) for you and for your health and well-being !!!!

In the meantime - enjoy a few chuckles from the crew at Dog River's Corner Gas !!!

In this moment ...

I'm tempted to call this posting - "in real time" ... but that would risk a scathing reply or email from Katie over at "At The Half Note" for stealing her thing ... so, with a nod of respect to Katie for setting the bar, I'll continue by calling it "in this moment" instead ...

Coffee is poured ... cats are purring ... dogs are snoozing ... the house is relatively quiet ...

My sermon is done ... communion bread is ready ... and the day stands poised to begin ...

Today will be a full and busy day ... Anniversary service at 11 ... lunch at noon (or thereabouts) ... Covenanting Service at 2:30 ... then tea and fellowship ... tonight will be trick or treaters ... and along the way we quietly mark the beginning of my 44th year of life ...

Today I look back on many twists and turns ... more downs than I care to consider, and some marvelous ups ... I have some regrets, and more than a few unfulfilled dreams and aspirations ... I carry the wounds and scars of conflicts and altercations ... and yet through it all runs a faithful ribbon of hope that keeps me moving forward ... a faithful ribbon of hope that keeps me breathing ... a faithful ribbon of hope that tells me that life is about change and transformation and moving from the darkness into the light ...

Today I stand outside the tunnel for the first time in a very long time and can look back with relief and give thanks for this moment and all that is part of it ...

As the ancient prayer says - Dayenu !! Dayenu !!

In the quiet of this moment, as I consider all that is within my life, I feel blessed and content, and I can join in the chorus of 'Dayenu' !!

Is it just me or ????

Is it just me, or is it too DAMNED early for Christmas Trees to be up ???

Last night driving home from visiting my mom we noticed a house with their Christmas Tree up in their living room window ... Ms H had noticed it a week ago when we made the same trip ... Christmas is almost TWO months - THAT'S 60 DAYS - away !!! I like Christmas as well as the next person, but seriously - a Christmas tree in October !!! That strikes me as a tad ridiculous ...

UGH !!!

... and so it began,

October 31st 1967 ...

... and 43 years later, it continues !!!

Born this day ...

Musician Tom Paxton

Actor - Comedian Chris Tucker

creator of the Cabbage Patch Kid Xavier Roberts



Comedic Actor Rob Schneider



and of course,
the celebrity I am most happy to share
my birthday with:
The LATE and TRULY GREAT
John Candy !!!

Happy Hallowe'en !!!!

Hmmmm ... Coffee !!

Today my sermon is written, my bulletins for Sunday morning's Anniversary service at St John's and the afternoon covenanting service are both printed and ready to go ... I need only bake a couple of loaves of bread for the afternoon communion service ... so, for the moment I can enjoy the peace and quiet of the morning with a cup of coffee ...

I discovered a local coffee company recently, and find their dark roast whole bean product to be simply wonderful ... Ashanti Coffee Enterprises is crafted in nearby Thornbury, using beans grown in central Africa ... for those in the area - ENJOY !!! ... for those beyond the immediate area - kinda sucks to be you right now ... sorry !!!

Now back to my coffee !!!

Sermon for October 24th 2010 - 161 st Anniversary Service at Annesley United Church, Markdale Ont.

To be honest, I’m not sure what to offer by way of reflection today ... you as a congregation are marking your 161st Anniversary, and I am a relative johnny come lately to the Grey Highlands area ... while my familial roots run deep in the soil of the areas around Chesley and Desboro here, and Stratford and Shakespeare a little bit farther south, the bulk of my adult life has been spent in far flung corners of Western Canada ... I began my ministry in Southern Ontario then faced my trial by fire in the First Nations Community of Bella Coola followed by a stint in the Lower Mainland, then a small rural community just north of Brandon Manitoba ... along the way I’ve faced more than my share of ups and downs, a few twists and turns and in 2006, a fire that destroyed the 104 year old sanctuary of the Church I was then serving in Minneodsa ... for the last four years, I have been amongst the ever growing number of people who once called the United Church home, and who through a variety of reasons found themselves outside looking in, and yearning to come home ... In the spring of this year I was offered and accepted the call to Flesherton, and have figuratively and literally found my way home ...

So, for me Anniversaries are bitter sweet moments ... they are when we stand and look back and where we’ve come from, while looking forward and wondering about where we’re heading. They are a time full of memories and nostalgia as well as potential, excitement and a bit of apprehension ... I find it interesting that the lectionary offered up the readings we have today ... they celebrate God’s blessings and bounty, while also counselling us to be mindful of things spiritual ...

As one who has been outside looking in, Anniversary Sundays are a good opportunity for those within to pause and actively consider if they are actively promoting the work of the Kingdom by expanding the realm of the Church, or are they simply perpetuating the comfortable status quo by resting on our laurels and enjoying the benefits that have come from the labours of our ancestors ...

The words of Joel offer just such a challenge. They are foremost words of rejoicing and celebrating but then they end with a powerful prophecy that God’s Spirit will be poured out upon the people and our sons and daughters will prophecy, our old men shall dream dreams and our young men will see visions, and all will share in this experience of the Spirit. Couple this reading with the words of encouragement from 2nd Timothy, and the sharp comparision of the Pharisee and the tax collector, and we have a good set of readings for an Anniversary Sunday at ANY church.

The words of Joel set us up to celebrate 161 years of bounty and blessings that this faith community has been to the greater community around it ... how many teas, dinners, bazaars, and social events have accompanied the countless Communions, Worship Services, Special Holy Days, Christmas Pageants, and other liturgical events that have marked the passage of the 16 decades?? How many cups of coffee and tea have been poured and shared? How many sandwiches have been offered? How many prayers have been lifted to God?

The list goes on and on ... it is who we are and what we do ... the things from Sunday School to the Choir on Sunday right through to the cookies and muffins dropped off after a hospital stay or a death ... it is the ministry we offer and embody, and share is the abundant rain and full threshing floors that Joel proclaims so forcefully ... yet, as we stand and look back over ALL of those blessings, we MUST ALSO look forward to the work of the Spirit that is still to be done, and that is still unfolding ... the visions, and dreams – the hopes and aspirations – the things that are new and exciting as well as a bit discomforting and disconcerting ...

Today perhaps like no other time in our history as a Church we stand in a very uncertain and troubling time ... but like the 161 years – the 1932 months – the 8,372 weeks – the 58 805 days – the 1 411 326 HOURS that have come before – we WILL face whatever comes and as we have countless times since the first service was held here in this community, we will continue to be the BODY of Christ to the town of Markdale.

But in the midst of this celebration and rejoicing is where the sharpness of the warning from Jesus comes into play, and we are challenged to heed the call to a mindful and considerate faith stance ... On one hand, we have the Pharisee – a pious and righteous man coming to pray, then on the other hand we have the tax collector – a seemingly not so pious nor righteous man coming to pray ...

Jesus choses well in his contrast ... for the listener, the Pharisee is clearly a man of God, while the Tax Collector is reviled and hated by almost everyone, and you would be hard pressed to find ANYONE who would regard them as a model of virtue ...

Then Jesus delivers the coup de grace – “watch them pray” he likely whispers to his disciples ... The Pharisee stands out in the open where everyone can see him and openly offers his prayers to God KNOWING that they will be heard – KNOWING they will be answered and KNOWING that everyone around will be impressed ...

But look at the tax collector quietly standing in the corner and offering his prayers to God in secret – almost silently ... “lord have mercy on me a sinner,” says the tax collector ...

And with that, Jesus challenges the status quo ... the humble will be made great and the great will be humbled ... the church goers may be surprised ... things are not what they may seem ...

In our comfort and our complacency we may have lost our way ... we may well have become MORE like the Pharisee and less like the tax collector. We may assume that we are humble when in fact we’ve become complacent and self-righteous in our piousness ...

The point of Jesus’ contrast is to ask ourselves constantly which character are we most like ... are we like the Pharisee or are we like the Tax Collector ... after 161 years, it’s possible our comfort has forged us into a Pharisee who sits content in the knowledge that we are righteous and beloved of God ... we’ve lost the edge of humility ...

German Theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer hit this when he offered the contrast between costly grace and cheap grace ... Cheap grace is the mistaken belief that we’ve earned our salvation by virtue of our family – our history – our heritage ... Cheap Grace is what happens when the Church become nothing more than a social club where like minded people gather to “be the Church” and the emphasis is on maintaining the status quo ... Costly Grace is making sacrifices to appreciate the Grace that has saved us. Costly Grace is about living the words we say so easily – ALL are welcome.

ALL – not just those we’re comfortable with – those we like – those who don’t irritate and annoy us - but ALL ...

Too often we’ve over indulged in cheap grace and we’ve forgotten the true cost of faithfilled Grace ... we’ve taken our salvation for granted and we’re in danger of exchanging our humilty for egoism ...

And that egoism is the very thing we must consciously avoid as we look back on our history and heritage. We need to be – and rightly so – proud of our past – but we can not and must not become so enamored of our past that we foolishly think that we’ve attained our salvation and our status of our own accord ... We are the children of God, loved and redeemed and transformed by GRACE into God into the Kingdom. We have done little to become and to embody the Church that we are ... and we MUST live accordingly.

Ultimately, we are simply the stewards of the many resources around us and our
calling is to share them not just with one another, but with everyone around us ...

Too often in the Church we get hung up on the unimportant things. We focus on the bricks and mortar and we get our knickers in knots over the mundane and the frivilous, when what we are called to be and to do is to embody and share the Kingdom of God in our midst ... as for me there is reserved a crown of righteousness – and not just for me, but for all ... if we are to claim our crown, why would we let the mundane things get in the way.

I’ve been through Church conflict. I’ve seen and experienced first hand what Congregations can do to each other, and to themselves ... I bear the bruises and scars of the nasty things Churches are capable of doing when they forget their calling ... the calling that in its most basic form says: we ARE the Body of Christ called to share the Gospel with the world.

In the days leading up to my ordination in 1993, The Reverend Mervyn Reuber, a then retired EUB preacher took me aside and reminded me that my roots runs deep in the EUB tradition ... the German Methodist Branch of the United Church that joined in 1968.

Reverend Reuber said that the task of the church is not to be a social club. It is not to be a place of warm pink fuzzies that make everyone feel special and comfortable. He said with a smile “the Church is the body of Christ Incarnate and REAL within the world. Our job is to go into the world and share the Gospel. To comfort the afflicted, to afflict the comfortable and in ALL things, share the Truth of the Gospel without shame or fear ...” This is the heart of costly Grace.

Too often in the Church we’ve found a comfortable place and drifted to the realm of social club ... we’ve grown confident and complacent in our faith and we’ve forgotten the transformative power of the Gospel ... we’ve lost the humility that allows us to draw before God to claim the gift of Grace and to experience fully the transformative power of the Gospel ... in addition to partaking in cheap grace, we’ve become the Pharisee who wants everyone to admire them for their piety and thier faith, and we look down upon the tax collector.

At the end of the day, we ARE the tax collector ... we are far from perfect, we are simply the recipients of God’s grace, and we draw before God with a profound sense of awe and humility that God loves even us ... Anniversary Sundays are those moments in our liturgical life when we pause and look back and rather than giving thanks like a good Pharisee overconfident in their piety, and self righteous in their faith, we bow before God and from the depth of our being offer our thanks and praise for the many blessings and bounty that God has so richly poured out upon us ... rather than strutting proudly at what a great job we’ve done, we bow our head before God and accept with humility that kiss that God places upon our head that proclaims us a beloved and cherished child of God !

Happy Anniversary Annesley United Church – may you have many many more as you live and share your faith to the community of Markdale and the people of the Grey Highlands ... you have much to be proud of in your history and heritage, but perhaps what should make you most proud is the gift of Grace you have been given to share ...

Go into the world boldly sharing the love, the mercy, the care and the faith that is embodied in your history and heritage ... you, as a people have earned the crown – wear it proudly !! Share the gift of Grace as you have for the last 161 years, and know that your greatest legacy is the sharing of that boundless and abundant grace ...

May it be so, thanks be to God, let us pray ...

Just Because ...

Sometimes a cute picture is worth sharing !!!

Oboe was trying to protect the new toy from Darby and Flute ...

Sermon for October 17th 2010 - World Food Sunday

As part of marking World Food Day, both Eugenia United Church and St John's United Church were encouraged to bring a non-perishable food item for the local food bank ... prior to the start of St John's service, Ms H and another young woman stacked the gathered food items from both churches into a creative rendering of the city of Toronto (as pictured above).

For the children's story, we shared a reflection on the the tale of Stone Soup and the ability to do amazing things like feed a WHOLE VILLAGE by everyone getting involved and sharing a little bit of what they have ...

Then I shared the following sermon.

I Belong to God:

We live in an era filled with anxiety ... news stories fill our screens and our papers and magazines with disturbing images and stories that chronicle the horrible things humanity is able to do to itself over and over ... a visit to the local pharmacy or drug store will reveal shelves and shelves of items and substances intended to help us relax and find serenity ... almost every store has a display featuring music cds with carefully orchestrated collections that will give an air of serenity and peace ... the self help industry is huge with cds, dvds, books, workshops and countless other products intended to counter the stress and anxiety of our modern era ... perhaps this is the very thing we are being warned against in our Epistle reading - perhaps these quick fixes are the things people chose to pursue over the grounding in the Truth ...

As a culture we find ourselves in a rather bewildering place ... our world is full of conflict and strife and it in turn creates in us fear and anxiety, and in turn we have hundreds of thousands of possible solutions to address these feelings ... yet for some strange reason The Church – that’s you and I – has chosen to step back from this opportunity and join in the rat race instead ...

Think about many of the conversations we may have day to day ... we focus on the negative – the stress inducing events that leave us shaking our heads. We’ll talk readily about the events half a world away that shock and titilate us; our news broadcasts are in many respects an unrelenting cacophany of bad news items with the occasional happy human interest story thrown in ... perhaps this form of voyeurism has an element of relief operating within it – we’re glad and relieved it’s someone else experiencing such terrible happenings rather than us ...

Fortunately though ... despite our best efforts to the contary, Good News stories break through from time to time.

This week the world sat mesmerized by the rescue of 33 miners in a remote corner of Chile. Over and over people marvelled at the out come of the 69 days spent hundreds of metres below ground ... more than one commentator noted that the appeal of this story was the happy outcome after a year full of disaster after disaster ... we wanted and got a happy ending for a change ...

But more than just a warm pink fuzzy story with a happy ending, the story of the Chilean miners speaks to us about faith on a profound level. Yesterday one of the miners spoke out and said that even though he wasn’t a believer he knew God was with them ... he didn’t speak about having a conversion experience, but about finding something within that was meaningful ... he found a sense of connectedness, a sense of community, an understanding of his place in the world ...

More locally this week the Owen Sound paper carried a letter from the family of the man named Brian who wanders up and down the highways of this area ... it told some of the background of who he is, where he came from and perhaps what it is that lies behind his long beard and hair, and his sunburned face ... the simple letter to the editor told the story of this man and a portion of why he lives the life he lives ... it offered US a sense of understanding about his place in the world ...

Ultimately, that’s what all of this (...) is about ... the stories, the songs, the prayers, the traditions ... our life and worship is about defining our place in cosmos and our understanding of our place in the world. I would like to think – and I would even dare to suggest – that we should understand and appreciate the turkey supper held a couple of weeks ago from that understanding.

The dinner and the concert were NOT about raising money for ourselves – they were about raising money for a very real need in our community – hunger and poverty ... but more than that, the dinner was about extending the boundaries of community and affirming that EVERYONE has a place here at the table of fellowship that is the very heart of our faith.

The dinner and concert were about including and caring for everyone by affirming the simple idea that WE BELONG TO GOD without conditions or restrictions ...

We can define things like traditions, worship services, membership and the other trappings of life in community from a negative – with an ‘us and them’ mentality, that draws lines and divisions between people based on any number of criteria. Criteria that excludes some and includes others.

Or we can define these things – our place in the world, our sense of community and connectedness – from a positive ... The reading from Jeremiah offers such an understanding ... the new covenant – the new understanding – the heart of our faith shall be written upon our hearts ... rather than consulting a lengthy list of rules of regulations, consulting a library of theology and religious reflections we shall define ourselves by the simple understanding that we are a child of God, beloved by God and belonging to God. All of our thoughts and actions should strive to reflect that understanding, and should seek to enhance and expand the compassion, the care and the experience offered by being in such a community ...

It’s very simple really ... but too often in the Church we make it political and we make it complex ... It hearkens back to the rabbinic story of Hillel who said the heart of the Torah – the very Law of the People handed down from God on Sinai is simply this – “that which is hurtful to another you do not do.”

In a time of anxiety and stress the tendancy is to seek simple answers and to draw firm dark boundaries around ourselves, around our community, and around our understandings so that we have a clear delineation – a black and white definition of the world and our place in it ... but the world is far more than simple black and white boundaries that include some and exclude others ... our world is a montage of grey hues that give depth and breadth to perspectives and understandings – and it is all prefaced on the simple notion of belonging to God ...

I belong to God is what our faith is all about ... I belong to God and so do you, and if we both belong to God we should act and think accordingly ... rather than excluding and marginalizing others, we should form bonds of community that seek first and foremost to care for each other ... to ensure that our community includes everyone, not just those we like and are comfortable with ...

In times of anxiety and stress we tend to build walls and boundaries and we engage a process of exclusion, when what we are called to is a process of inclusion.

I am a child of God.
You are a child of God.

ALL of us are children of God ... the Good News proclaimed by the prophets from Jeremiah through to Micah is about remembering the Covenant with God that celebrates and affirms that understanding ... the Good News carried by Jesus and his disciples, and that undergirds The Church is about sharing that understanding of our place in the cosmos with everyone ... we don’t need a degree in theology, or a library full of books and texts – all we need is to listen to the whisper in our hearts that tells us over and over and over – I belong to God ...

If I belong to God ... and if you belong to God ... what COULD happen if we begin to live our lives affirming that ... rather than saying “I belong to God ... but you can only belong to God if ...” What if we left the exclusion and judgement in the hands of God instead, and we simply opened our hearts, our minds, our spirits, and most importantly OUR community to include everyone? What would happen? What could happen?

If we begin from a positive that confronts anxiety and fear with the understanding that all of us belong to God without exception – what kind of a difference could we make in the world?

If we truly take seriously the idea that we belong to God and live our lives by seeking to celebrate and affirm that in ALL things, how different could our world become?

If I belong to God and you belong to God, and the homeless man on the corner belongs to God could we simply walk by and not see him?

If I belong to God and you belong to God, and the beligerent jerk that cut us off yesterday on the highway belongs to God can we swear at him and flip him a rude gesture?

If I belong to God and you belong to God, and ALL of the men, women and children around us belong to God can we still draw boundaries and divisions within the human family and define some as in and others as out?

If I belong to God, and you belong to God and ALL of humanity belongs to God, can we – or better yet – SHOULD we, continue to divide people one from another, or should be be about seeking the radical inclusion that lies at the very heart of the Good News – the inclusion that calls EVERYONE to a place of belonging within the Kingdom of God that we are called to be and to create ??

If ALL of us belong to God how can we shrug our shoulders when confronted with poverty, hunger, war, violence and anything else that destroys the human spirit and disrupts human life?

If all of us belong to God we need to be about living out that understanding rather than investing inordinate amounts of time and energy protecting our dogmas and defining our communities ...

Today in the face of anxiety and fear, we are called by our Covenant with God to affirm our place in the world as the beloved Children of God, and to reach out to others and celebrate and affirm their status as beloved Children of God too ...

I belong to God ... and so do you !!

May it be so, thanks be to God, let us pray ...

It's a SMALL World ...

A month or so ago, I pulled into the parking lot of the Canadian Tire in Owen Sound. I parked behind a silver ridgeline and was surprised to look up and see the above dealer decal ... the silver ridgeline and my ridgeline BOTH came from the same dealership !!!!

As the driver of the other Ridgeline hopped out I asked him when he bought his truck at Forman ... he stopped and looked confused until he saw my Manitoba plates.

Turns out he was serving with the PPCLI (Princess Patricia Canadian Light Infantry) at CFB Shilo before being transfered out to the Meaford Range ... just before leaving in 07, he bought his Ridgeline from the same place as I bought mine !!!

As we walked into the store we chatted and like any good 'six degrees of seperation' conversation it turns out we know quite a few of the same people ... we parted company by both observing how small our world sometimes is.

Sermon for Thanksgiving Sunday 2010

As way of introduction to our Scripture Readings, I shared the following quotation from Martin Luther King's Christmas Sermon on Peace (1967), that reflects on the incredible interconnection our lives have with others who are sometimes half a globe away ...


It really boils down to this: that all life is interrelated. We are all caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied into a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. We are made to live together because of the interrelated structure of reality. Did you ever stop to think that you can't leave for your job in the morning without being dependent on most of the world? You get up in the morning and go to the bathroom and reach over for the sponge, and that's handed to you by a Pacific islander. You reach for a bar of soap, and that's given to you at the hands of a Frenchman. And then you go into the kitchen to drink your coffee for the morning, and that's poured into your cup by a South American. And maybe you want tea: that's poured into your cup by a Chinese. Or maybe you're desirous of having cocoa for breakfast, and that's poured into your cup by a West African. And then you reach over for your toast, and that's given to you at the hands of an English-speaking farmer, not to mention the baker. And before you finish eating breakfast in the morning, you've depended on more than half of the world. This is the way our universe is structured, this is its interrelated quality. We aren't going to have peace on earth until we recognize this basic fact of the interrelated structure of all reality.

Then I offered the following sermons:

This past week I read a book about the growing divide between rural and urban Canadians, and the immense pressure being applied to the rural residents, particularly food producers. The author noted that farm families face incredible challenges that were simply unheard of 20 years ago. The economy of scale and market pressures on small farms push them into a “go big or go home” mentality that makes it more than challenging for new farmers to enter the market. Quota systems, regulations, taxes, spiralling input costs, flat lined sale prices and a myriad of other factors come into play and place ever increasing pressure on farm families ... but perhaps one of the greatest pressures being placed on rural farm families is the rural idyll that has been created over the last twenty years.

Folks move to the rural areas to buy thier piece of ‘heaven’ – a rural get away where they can escape the pressures of the city. They can be free of the traffic, the sound, the smells, and the busy-ness of the city by buying an old farm, or an acreage and just getting away ... then their neighbour starts spreading manure, or the wind blows from the wrong direction and carries with it the aroma of the manure pile, or the barn, or the late night combining disturbs their serenity ... The list of tensions found in across Canada where the urban and rural expectations meet and classh is long and at times baffling ...

As a culture we’ve become removed from our roots – figuratively and literally, and the effect is at times profound ... Most Canadians who are descended from early settlers are descendents of the farm families who came and opened up the country by clearing forests and breaking land. Whether we’re from here in Southern Ontario, or elsewhere, somewhere in our background lurks a family history grounded LITERALLY on a farm. The first people who came to this country came to farm. They were given their plot of land and sent out into the vast tracks of wilderness to hack down trees, break the grasslands, and start farming ...

In Canada we don’t have the myth of the Pilgrims who faced the adversity of the new country and would have perished had it not been for the gracious care of the First people who taught these strange new comers about the generations of knowledge they had on farming and finding enough food ... I remember sitting with a West Coast native elder who commented that the mistake the First Nations leaders made way back when was actually helping the pilgrims ... “we never shoulda helped them” he commented, “we shoulda let them figure it out for themselves, or starve.”

It is an interesting aside to study the history of settlement in places like the BC coast. Over and over you hear stories about people facing starvation while living right on the coast because they wouldn’t lower themselves to eating like the “natives.” I once heard the story about a family who came fresh from Britan and set up a homestead on the shore and almost died the first year because the various crops they planted didn’t do well in the sparse coastal soil. Yet a stone’s throw from their feeble attempts at gardening was a tidal zone full of nutritious, delicious food – food that was different from anything they had eaten before, but food that would have carried them through the winter.

Over and over, settlers refused to entertain learning anything from the first people who had for centuries lived and prospered by harvesting and utilizing what was around them. A similar tale comes from the North, where European expeditions faced incredible challenges and many perished because they were unprepared for the brutality of an Arctic Winter. Few of the explorers equipped themselves adequatedly to face a winter there, and fewer still tried to emulate the ways of the people who for millenia had survived there ... one could argue there was an arrogant pride that came into play when the pioneering spirit faced adversity. The notions of “I’ll do it myself” lead to some foolish and foolhearty choices being made by the new comers to the land.

Fortunately, over time sense prevailed and lessons taught and knowledge was exchanged and our pioneers survived and prospered. And their stories became our stories.

But today in Canada we’ve lost connection with that past. Most Canadians have no direct family connection with a farm. My last connection with farming ended several years ago when my father’s last brother had to retire from the family farm that had been ours since the 1860’s, and it was sold to someone else ... Today the massive 170 year old wooden bank barn sits empty and under used because the new owners work in town, and rent out the fields rather than try to eck out a living. The out buildings have all been bull dozed and the apple orchard has been cleared, and food production is no longer the priority. It’s a rural get away ...

And so over and over, all across Canada the ideal of rural life faces the reality of rural life ... and often that strain leads to conflict and it the rural farmer and the rural way of life that loses ... what is needed in this moment, not just here in our community, but across Canada is a reclaiming of our history and our heritage – a reclaiming of the story of how we, as a people and a nation came to be, and what it is that made us who we are ... The urban centres for all their exictement and activity are not where the roots of our country lie. Our roots lie in countless small towns and villages from coast to coast where people clutered around the farm to create a new life and earn a living from the produce, crops and animals they raised there ... but over and over we can find example after example of how disconnected we’ve become from our rural roots.

In Saskatchewan a few years ago there was a study of children in schools and they found that the majority of kids in urban schools had no connection to a farm at all through their extended family, and most troubling, the vast majority of children didn’t understand that the food they ate every day originiated on a farm at all ... to them the Sobey’s and Loblaw’s stores were the provider AND the producer of food ... the meat on the stryofoam tray was diconnected from a living animal ...

Ironically, the ancient Hebrews understood this disconnect thousands of years ago when they addressed it liturgically. The story from our Old Testament reading is about offering up thanksgiving to God for the bounty of the harvest by saying the words – “a wandering aramean was my ancestor ...” and giving to God the tithe of crops, animals and produce. The intent was to underscore the importance of honouring God by returning a portion of the blessings we enjoy, but more importantly, the action right down to the proclamation, was intended to remind the people of their heritage and thier history, and it was to underscore the interconnectedness of ALL people in Israel by honouring Abraham and his rural ways.

A wandering Aramean was my ancestor is a proclamation of rural life ... Abraham was a farmer ... his children whether they are rural or urban were to honour and remember him every year – they were to re-enforce the ties to the land by reaffirming the heritage of the people that was not about the majestic stone temple that towered over the city of Jerusalem – the heritage of the people laid in the hills and valleys outside the city walls – in the country side.

Without the rural farm families who tended flocks, and vineyards, harvested crops and raised animals and so on the people in the city would quickly starve ... so, every year an affirmation of rural as more than ‘not urban’ was enacted in the temple as people gave thanks to God for all that they had ... it acknowledged where food came from, it acknowledged where they came from, it affirmed the interconnectedness of life, and more than that, it affirmed the importance of not taking for granted the food on our table, and the intricate web that got it there in the first place ...

This interconnectedness is the heart of our Thanksgiving season – we can give thanks for the stuff of life, but ultimately the challenge – the calling, is to give thanks for life in its abundance. Our family, our friends, our food, our shelter – all those things that are part of the milieu of life – things that we can’t put an adequate monetary value on, and yet are things that life would be lacking without ...

Thanksgiving is not about gluttony and over-eating. It is ultimately about standing quietly and considering what it is that fills our life with meaning and giving thanks for those connections that root us in our heritage, our history, and in the land we call home ... Thanksgiving is about giving thanks for life and all that it offers ...

May it be so, thanks be to God, let us pray ...

Sermon for October 3rd 2010 - Flesherton Pastoral Charge

As part of the regular meeting of North Waters Presbytery, nine members of the Flesherton Pastoral Charge attended the Rural Revitalization workshop lead by Dr. Marvin Anderson. The nine returned home ready to roll up their sleeves and do what needs to be done to be part of an ongoing revitalization in our community ...

I introduced our Scripture Readings with the following:

This week ten of us went to the Alive and Kicking workshop held by Presbytery in Owen Sound ... over and over we heard Marvin Anderson talk about the need to share and listen to our stories ... I need to hear the stories of others, and I need to share my story with them ...

The funny thing about sharing stories is the realization that my experience is not all that dissimilar to that of someone else ... we’ve all been through ups and downs and twists and turns – we’ve learned some great lessons from our bruises, and we’ve all had similar experiences and feelings.

When we approach prayers of Lament such as those found this morning in our Old Testament reading, and in our Psalm reading, we realize that we too have had these feelings – we’ve ALL had those deep dark moments when we want to cry out at God and rage at God and unload on God ... we’ve ALL be there ...

The power of the Lament, and the power of the story intersect in that moment ... when I can admit to being in a place where I’ve wondered if God exists at all, and you can admit to having similar experiences, we lift the veil from the church and begin to celebrate our commonality ... we begin to be ourselves – warts and all, as the saying goes – and we begin to shed the view too many have of the Church ...
When we share our stories, the Church becomes YOU and I together ... and others see the Church as US, not as some institution removed from the world and from life ...

All because of a simple and honest prayer ...


Then by way of reflection, I offered the following sermon on the power of lament:


By the waters of Babylon, we sat down and wept ...

In the early morning hours of February 13th 2006, I stood in the midst of the smouldering debris field that was until 24 hours earlier, the 104 year old sanctuary building of Minnedosa United Church ... as I surveyed the blacked and shattered wood and bricks and the mix of soggy, charred paper, twisted metal, and other assorted items that had until the arsonists’ fire consumed it, been part of the life and ministry of the Congregation and community, I offered the mantra of this morning’s Psalm reading – “by the waters of Babylon, we sat and wept as we remembered ... ” The Psalmist remembered Zion – Jerusalem, while I remembered a majestic building that had been destroyed by a act of innane stupidity ...

The frozen ice that shrouded much of the debris added to the sense of standing by a pool of water and lamenting our circumstance ... Lament – the ability to cry out and even curse God and KNOW in the core of our being that we are truly NOT alone, and that God is still with us ...

That morning, as I stood in what was only hours before the basement of the Church, I looked up and my Anglican Colleague who stood by the temporary fence erected along the main street sidewalk ,.. I offered the words of the Psalmist: “By the waters of Babylon ...” and she answered, “WE sat and we wept ...” as tears rolled down our cheeks ...

WE sat and we wept ... WE!! Not I ... NOT ME ... NOT just myself, the lonely little creature standing before God and feeling utterly alone – WE - the collective ... WE – all of us together ... WE – you and I together ...

That’s the power of the Lament. You never lament alone. Lament is not about offering up a “woe is me” pity party, but rather it is about having the strength and courage to gather in faith and name that which is pulling us and our lives apart and making us feel that God is anywhere by here ...

The most powerful story of Lament that I have encountered is one that I share frequently, and originated with the reflections of Jewish writer Eli Wiesel and his experience in the Holocaust of the Second World War. Wiesel tells the story of the trial held in one of the death camps where Jewish prisoners were starved, beaten, and worked almost to death before being killed by the Nazis ... in this particular camp a group of men decided to hold a trial to determine if God had abandoned them, and if God even existed ... the court was convened and one of the learned men in the barracks acted as judge.

Evidence for and against the case was present. Witnesses were called, and eventually the judge was asked to offer a ruling on the outcome of the trial ... The judge handed down his verdict saying that not only had God abandoned the people, but that there was ample evidence to suggest that God no longer existed at all ... He hammered his gavel to the table top at the exact moment a young boy opened the door and announced: “it is sunset ... it is Shabbot – the Sabbath ... it is time to pray !”

The court was dismissed and all of those who a breath earlier had listened as God was ruled to no longer exist, fell to their knees in prayer ...

In a heartbeat, the court moved from ruling that God no longer existed to worshipping God through prayer!

Such is the power of the lament.

The lament in Jewish tradition is the prayer that sees one standing before God and inventorying all that is wrong in the our lives, our world, our realtionship with God ... the lament is about the guttarl emotions of anger, frustration, even out and out rage ... The lament is the prayer where you can RAGE at God and offer up ALL that you feel inside knowing that God will not only listen, but God will not adandon us ...

The ultimate Lament is the prayer that sees us raging at God to such a degree that we question whether God even exists at all ... cursing God to such a degress that We reach a place where God is absent from our understanding of the world ...

In that moment we reach the place where the power of the Lament comes into play ... for the Lament doesn’t leave us in THAT place where there is no God. The Lament says – “there’s can not possibly be a God in this moment ...” then in the next breath gives THANKS to God for giving us the ability to pray so frankly and honestly and openly ...

In a Lament, we move from cursing God to praising God in a single breath ... and that’s the power of the lament. The transformation that comes from moving through ALL of our feelings of anger, abandonment, aloneness and frustration and suddenly standing in a place where we can actually THANK God for those self same feelings ...

The Lament is one of our most powerful prayers because of that transformative moment that allows us to give up to God the fullness of our feelings ... The Lament is the power of remembering unleashed in faith ...

And so the Psalmist sitting by the rivers of Babylon – modern day Iraq, far from everything that is familiar, far from everything that is comfortable, far from home, has the courage to cry out to God and own the hurt, the pain, the sorrow, the anger – the fullness of the emotions that are roiling in his heart – and he KNOWS that even in the feelings of anger and abandonment God hears him and God listens ... but not only does God hear and listen, God doesn’t leave us in that place ... God pulls us spiritually, emotionally, physically and in everyway to the place of hope and promise that is part of our faith journey ...

It may not happen at once ... it may take years ... it may take longer than we realize, but there is a point when we suddenly realize how far we’ve come from that deep dark moment ...

A rabbinic prayer puts it well when it says:

Life is like a journey, birth is the beginning of this journey and death is not the end, but rather the destination ...

It is a journey that takes us
from youth to age,
From innocence to awareness,
From ignorance to knowledge,
From foolishness to wisdom,
From weakness to strength and often back again,
From offense to forgiveness,
From loneliness to friendship,
From pain to compassion,
From fear to faith,
From defeat to victory, and from victory to defeat,

Until looking backwards or forwards, we see that victory does not lie at some highpoint along the way, but in having made this journey of life stage by stage ...

We are all in it together ... we need community and connection to survive ... and most importantly, we need to know that we are loved and cared for to grow and prosper ... Breaking bread and pouring out the cup is not just about celebrating the abundance of God’s love and grace and care – it is about joining together to remember and to affirm the simple, and the often over looked reality that WE ARE NEVER ALONE ... we are children of God, and even in those deep dark moments when we feel abandoned and alone and we can ONLY rage at God and express how unfair it all seems ... in those moments, God’s spirit and live not only stirs within us – it breaks through with redemptive and transformative healing for ALL ...

The Lament is about unleashing the power of remembering in faith!!
In that deep dark moment when we fall to our knees exhausted and only able to utter the words – “there is No God !!” God breaks through with love and grace and we rise renewed, refreshed and resurrected !!

It is the parable of the Mustard seed in action ... it starts small, with the stirring of memory ... the whisper of the Spirit ... the remembrance of God’s love and presence ... and then with time come growth ... powerful transformative growth ... growth that can change what is, into what God wants it to be for us and for all of creation ...

Moving from a place where we feel utterly and totally abandoned, to a place where God’s love pours over us in abundance ... that’s the power of a Lament.

Accepting the full breath of emotions and feelings and KNOWING that even in the deepest darkest moments when we feel completely and utterly alone – God is still with us.

May it be so, thanks be to God, let us pray ...

And the colour of the day is:

My friend and fellow blogger, a Pastor I have deep respect for has posted today on the call to wear purple in memory and in honour of our Gay, Lesbian and Trans-Sexual sisters and brothers who have faced hatred, violence and bullying because of something that is part of who they are ... I would have worn purple as the requests on Facebook suggested, but alas, I have no purple in my wardrobe ... so, instead I will offer this link to the wise and inspiring words of my friend and brother in faith, who says it far better than I could:

The Laughing Pastor - a day for purple (click here)

70 !!!

Imagine what might have been had he lived to see his 70th Birthday ... Imagine ...

The joy of quilts ...

Today I was invited to participate in the dedication service for a quilt at the local care home. The quilt will hang in the chapel space of the care home while it is not in use. The intended use of the quilt is to cover the body of residents when they are removed from the building following their death.

The quilt, the creation of a local woman and her sister, celebrates the four seasons and is intended to offer comfort and meaning to residents, visitors and members of the care team who view it, and when needed use it.

The following is the reflection I crafted for the service led by the facility chaplain, myself and my Anglican Colleague:

All of us, somewhere in our homes have a quilt that has been passed down from generation to generation. I might be pristine, carefully wrapped and stored away so that it doesn’t get dirty or damaged, or it might be patched and frayed, worn and tattered from its use over the years.

Whatever it looks like, and whatever the condition, it is something that reminds us of the past, while also celebrating the amazing diversity of life as it is lived and celebrated in its fullness. Quilts are integral to our lives. In this area early settlers quickly crafted quilts to keep them and their families warm in the long dark cold winter nights. Quilts took cast off bits and pieces of fabric and with time, patience and artistic flare created something that is truly greater than the sum of its parts.

Quilts marked the safe arrival of children, the covenant of marriage between young lovers, the warm comfort of home in times of illness, and offer a safe, warm refuge that envelopes us in comfort and care when we need it most.

Quilts are very much reflective of our lives. They are created by gathering bits and pieces of fabrics and weaving them together. Patterns and designs are created with the use of diverse colours and shapes. Seams bind together fabrics that differ in colour, density, and texture. Beauty is in the details and in the broad brushstrokes. Loving care is expressed through the individual stiches and through the care taken to bring all the bits and pieces together in a beautiful work of art.

In the passing of the seasons, quilts gain meaning and value as memories are gathered and connected with the fabric and the thread. Like our lives quilts become worn and in places frayed, split seams are repaired and replaced, frayed corners are fixed and patches might be applied. With each washing and each usage the beauty of the quilt deepens as more memories are associated with the simple fabric that has been crafted into an object of beauty and love.

This quilt before us has been envisioned, crafted and created with deep care for those whom it will serve. It will not be tucked in a closet and preserved for future generations, but will be part of the Spiritual Life of this place, and this community. It is a gift of talent, ability and memory to all those who come and visit, those who call this place home, and those who join in the life and work of this community.

This quilt will through its presence and beauty celebrate the passing of the seasons, and the power of the Human Spirit to live fully through the journey of life. Taking bits and pieces of fabric and with time, care and skilled stitches, the artists and caregivers have created something more than the sum of its parts ... something that affirms life and celebrates the seasons we live ...

Scenes from along the way ...

Tonight after a trip to Toronto Airport followed by an excursion along some of Ontario's 400 series highways, I've had the chance to sit and simply be ... with Thanksgiving looming on the horizon it is a good time to sit and consider the blessings and bounty that have come my way of late ...

Tonight, I also had the chance to finally view the interview between myself and Rev. David Shearman on his cable show 'Faith Works' out of Owen Sound ... I had heard about the interview from a dozen or so people who had watched it, but hadn't seen it myself ...

Last week one day there was a knock at the door and I was greeted by an older couple who introduced themselves ... he had been the Commanding Officer at the detachment where my dad served just prior to his death ... they had watched the interview and drove to Eugenia and Flesherton to find me and chat ...

Looking back over the last couple of years I realize the interesting journey I have been on ... and last week at Presbytery I also came to realize how incredibly toxic the Church context I was trying to survive within really was ... with the notable (and much appreciated) exception of my time with the Presbyterian Church little of what I endured prior to arriving in Ontario has been healthy and wholesome ... the machinations and the manipulations and the JUSTIFICATION of the toxicity is breath-taking to step away from and see in its broader context.

Admittedly most of the toxicity arises from fear and from the inability to find enough trust to address that fear, but what has offended me deeply and hurt me the most is the complete lack of compassion and understanding by those in positions of leadership who continually sought to marginalize and crush me by placing the blame solely on my my shoulders and who kept justifying the toxic actions of others with nothing more than a shrug of the shoulders ...

Fortunately, I was able to survive, and like the old adage says - "what doesn't kill ya makes you stronger".

This afternoon driving by the windmill farm south of Dundalk I reflected on my life being like those towering windmills turning in the wind ... over the last four or five years I've experienced many storms and howling winds ... and like the majestic windmills I drove past today, I've been able to face the storms and convert the energy of their fury into something positive, affirming and life giving ...

Today with the chance to sit and catch my breath for a moment, I've come to realize how blessed my journey has really been despite the set backs and the struggles and IN SPITE of the twists and turns I have much to be thankful for - not least of which is finding myself ministering in a place and context that is less toxic and more healthy than I have known in my previous 18 years of ministry ... I hold no illusions. I know there are toxic people in every corner and court of the Church, but thankfully, the Spirit has guided me to a place where the toxic are outnumbered numerically and politically by the healthy and whole !!

This Thanksgiving I am for the first time in quite awhile truly thankful ...

The heartbeat of a community ...

It started as an idea ... one of the members of the congregation wanted to do something to provide food and fellowship to some of the families in our midst who are marginalized and in need ... he wanted to provide a meal, a concert of 'good ole gospel music', raise some money, and provide a time and place of fellowship for folks in town to come together and just enjoy being together ...

It started as an idea ... then came a date ... and a plan ... and a few phone calls and some announcements were made in church ... and the idea grew ...

Musicians were lined up ... donations of food were arranged ... volunteers were lined up ... and plans began to turn the idea into an actual evening of food, fun, fellowship and music ...

Tonight over 270 meals of turkey with ALL the fixings, were served and enjoyed ... and close to 100 people gathered on a beautiful autumn evening to sing and to listen to community musicians sharing their passions and their talents ... and along the way some much needed money was raised for the local food bank AND for the Community Christmas Hamper initiative.

And it ALL started with an idea ... and tonight it ended with hugs, laughter, and the heartfelt desire to 'do this again sometime soon!"

Moments like this are the very heartbeat of a community ... the gathering of friends and neighbours around the proverbial kitchen table to visit and share the bounty of the fields that surround us ... the gathering of friends and neighbours singing and sharing stories and memories ... the gathering of friends and neighbours together sharing their times, talent and treasures to help each other, and to help our community ...

Tonight I remembered what small town ministry is supposed to be ... and I heard the heartbeat of a community that has been through much, but that continues to share its story, its care and its compassion as it lives its faith ...

Tonight started with an idea ... and it ended with a song !!!

Tonight, ALL I can offer is: Thanks be to God !!!

Sermon for September 26th - Building Hope !!

I will admit to frequently quoting from the American Theologian and social activist Jim Wallis. Jim has repeatedly used the statement – “hope is belieiving in spite of the evidence, and watching the evidence change” in his writings and in his appearances. He even says – “it’s my best line.” In a video of his key note address at a Conference in Toronto in the year 2000, he said it was the first thing he said to his new born son because “it is my best line.”

It’s also speaking an eternal truth ... hope is believing in spite of the evidence, and watching the evidence change. It’s true – that’s what we are called to be when it comes to living our faith ...

BUT more than just being passive observers, we are also called to be part of the process. We are called to embody, proclaim, live and share that hope and be part of the transformative action that comes as hope changes the evidence ...

Our reading from the book of Jeremiah is one of those scriptural passages that reinforced and informs the notion of being a people of hope. The prophet Jeremiah is in a time and place where there is an abundance of almost every emotion BUT hope. They are an occupied and oppressed people. The heavy heel of a foreign army is grinding the people and the country into the dirt ... there is absolutely nothing to be hopeful about, and there is every reason to be fearful and hopeless.

Yet the prophet stands up and buys a field in territory firmly controlled by the enemy ... this would be like someone from the US heading over to Iran or North Korea and buying a business, or a tract of land ... it is unthinkable and it is unheard of ... yet, Jeremiah not only does it, he dares to point at his action as an example of being faithful.

How can buying a field in enemy territory in the middle of a war be regarded as faithful ?

As I considered this text a few examples came to mind ... the first was that of American activist Greg Mortenson who has penned the books Three Cups of Tea and Stones into Schools about his life long journey to build schools in some of the most remote and isolated corners of the world.

Over the last two decades Mortenson has been quietly building schools in the cast mountainous regions that border and include the Himalayan mountains in Afghanistan, Pakistan, India and Iraq. Over and over Mortenson has gone into areas where aid agencies and government ministries fear to tread and has built schools where young boys and girls recieve an education thanks to the courageous actions of their village elders, and those who support and back Mortenson in his work.

One story Mortenson relates about his work embodies the very hope that Jeremiah offered so many centuries ago ... Mortenson tells of being approached by a group of men from an area in Afghanistan that was historically a strong hold of the Taliban. These rough, bearded horseman – essentially medieval warriors with modern semi-automatic weapons called on Mortenson and asked him to meet with them to discuss building a school ... Mortenson’s one condition in building a school is that the girls of the village MUST be educated there too ... and against the backdrop of the Taliban and all of the oppressive and repressive things it did to women and girls came this meeting ...

The elders from the region in question and Mortenson agreed to meet at a school that was already constructed and running. In an interview last year on CBC Mortenson described the moment of meeting these tough desert men at the school. They were armed with an assortment of AK-47’s and other semi-automatics. They were dressed in dark black robes, and stood with scowls on their faces ... then they noticed the playground equipment ...

For the next 45 minutes the men laid down their weapons and clamoured on the swings and play structures like little boys ... when it was finally time to meet Mortenson laid out his expectations for the school and was met with an enthusiastic “yes, yes ... will it have that?” one of the elders motioned to the playground structure ...

In that moment, these men who had likely spent almost ALL of their adult life fighting ... first the Russians, then then various Mujahadeen forces that lead to the rise of the Taliban, and more recently the NATO lead forces, had perhaps for the first time been able to PLAY ... really play ... play like little kids ... and it not only offered hope ... it began to change them ... Like a biblical Jeremiah, Greg Mortenson’s decision to honour his sister, and thank a Himalayan village for saving his life, has one school at a time transformed village after village ... all because he has dared literally – to buy a field and build a school in what many would regard as enemy territory.
Such is the embodiment of hope ... Hope is about seeing past the values of this moment, and committing to what is right ...

Our New Testament and Gospel readings pick up another thread of this notion by challenging us to look for what is TRULY important as we live our lives ...

In our reading from 1 Timothy, it begins with a warning to be content in our lives ... the trap of riches is that we want more and more and more, and in the process we are less and less content.

Then Paul shifts to the powerful call of fighting the good fight of faith ...

The same call runs through the parable Jesus tells of the poor beggar Lazarus and the rich man who ignored him sitting by his front door ... when the beggar and the rich man die they find themselves in the afterlife ... the beggar is in heaven, and the rich man is in a less paradise-like place ... The Rich Man begs for someone to go and warn his brothers, lest they share his fate ... the reply to his appeal is telling ... They need only listen to the teachings of Moses and the prophets and they will be saved. Even the appearance of ‘one risen from the dead’ will not change their hearts.

It’s a telling story ... it’s an uncomfortable story ...

What has the rich man gained from all his wealth and power? But more importantly is the question – what have WE learned about our lives from this story ?

What is important to us as we live and move through this life of ours?

We can amass all the wealth in the world, but if in our quest to protect it, we become reclusive and paranoid like Howard Hughes reportedly did, what have we really gained?

We are called to be a people of hope ... to use the time, the talents, and the treasures we’ve been entrusted with, to transform the world. We are called to not only passively watch the evidence around us change, but to be part of the process ... we can point to folks like Greg Mortenson, and countless others who are doing their small bits to bring about change and feel ourselves inadequate to the task, or we can start doing what we can one action at a time ...

I’ve always been fond of the story about a young girl and her grandfather walking along a beach after a big storm passed by. Scattered across the sand are hundreds and hundreds of star fish that are slowly drying out in the sun ... the little girls runs from star fish to star fish picking them up and tossing them back into the deeper water ... “Oh honey,” the grandfather finally says after watching her actions, “why are you bothering? There are so many starfish washed up on the beach,” his hand motions over the countless starfish scattered across the sans, “what difference can you possibly make?” The little girl smiles, picks up a star fish and tosses it back into the water ... “Made a difference to THAT ONE,” she says triumphantly as she picks up another and repeats the action ...

It might not seem like much, but each action makes a difference, and together, enough small actions CAN bring about enormous change ... even when the actions might seem borderline crazy:

In the movie Evan Almighty, there is a scene where Evan’s wife is struggling with the absurdity of Evan building an ark like Noah’s not far from Washington DC. After being elected to the Congress, Evan Baxter a former broadcaster from Buffalo has been told by God to prepare for a pending flood by building an ark.

Evan’s wife has finally decided for the good of their children she needs to leave – she needs to get away from her husband who been mockingly called the New York Noah because f the massive wooden ark he has been building beside their home. The Biblical appearance of Evan with his long flowing beard, and expansive robes and cloaks isn’t helping much either ...
So, in the scene Evan’s wife is sitting in a diner and has a conversation with the waiter who also happens to be “God”.

After confessing to who her husband is, God replies that he likes New York Noah and thinks what he is doing is a love story about believing in each other ... he explains by asking: “If someone prayers for patience, do you think God gives them patience, or does he give them the opportunity to be patience? If he prays for courage, does God give them courage or does he give them opportunity to be courageous? If someone prayed for family to be closer, do you think God zaps them with warm fuzzy feelings, or does he give them opportunities to love each other?”

As a people of faith – a people of hope, we are called to be about more than just maintaining the status quo ... we are called to have the boldness and courage to buy fields in enemy territory, to build schools in remote corners of the world, to build arks and prepare for the pending floods ... we are called to heed the whisper of faith that asks us – that challenges us to live our lives following God’s will and God’s plan.

It may not be easy, and God knows sometimes it might cause people to look at us funny ... but taking a risk in faith, and living our lives as people of hope. It is as Joan Chittister says:

“Life is not one road. It is many roads, the walking of which provides the raw material out of which we find hope in the midst of despair. Every dimension of the process of stuggle is a call to draw from a well of new understandings. It is in these understandings that hope dwells. It is that wisdom that carries us beyond the dark night of struggle to the dawn of new wisdom and new strength.” (p. 107)

May it be so, thanks be to God, let us pray ...