Sermon by Elliott Siteman

Photo Credit: Lawrence OP on Flickr.com

Sermon by Stuart Pike

Photo Credit: Dave Gunn on Flickr.com

Sermon Text:

Today we are celebrating as Harvest Thanksgiving Sunday. What was your first clue? I cannot see a collection of such vegetables and fruits without thinking of the many vegetable gardens which I have seen. Some of them I've even worked in! Not that I'm much of a gardener myself. My experience at gardening usually has to do with trying my best to follow the gardener's instructions.

I like being in a garden. There's something about being in a garden which can be soothing to the soul. Perhaps it is the signs of life which are all around you. The smell of freshness, the colours, the feel of the earth bring you into contact with creation. They remind us that God is still engaged in creation. That means that God is still involved with us. Somewhere there is in us the essence of life which can resonate with such life in growing things. And in this connection we remember at a level deeper than our intellect, that God is the creator and this creator is in control. If you’re feeling any anxiety, a garden is the place to go to find your centre again.

One of the most important gardens that I remember being in was in another hemisphere of this world. Some of you know that when I was studying for my Master of Divinity degree, I spent four months in Uruguay in S. America. Uruguay is a very small costal country nestled between its two large neighbours, Argentina and Brazil. It has a population of 3 million, half of which live in its capital city, Montivideo. One of things which I did during that four months was to spend some time working in a vegetable garden, which we called “la huerta”, in one of the shanty towns called a Cantegril in which lived the poorest of the poor.

The people eked out an existence by collecting garbage and then sorting out what was recyclable out of it and selling it to scrap dealers. The place often looked like a war zone. Between huge mountains of garbage were sorted piles of plastic, metal and paper. That which could not be salvaged was usually burned. The small river of filthy water would sometimes be so choked with garbage that they would occasionally set it alight.

In this community full of men, women and children, full of noise and squalor and life and death, lived a missionary with the Lutheran Church of Germany, a deaconess named Traute who decided that there could be found a small area perhaps forty feet by sixty, and that with the help of many volunteers, the ground could be cleared and tilled and some vegetables could be planted.

At first the people who lived there seemed dubious ..... this was definitely outside of their experience. Could they really grow vegetables in the midst of the noise and filth of the Cantegril? There were very few people who started the work. Many doubted that anything would come of it. I spent some considerable time helping to clear the land, with the help of some orphaned boys who lived with the Roman Catholic priest who lived in the midst of the Cantegril.

Traute was definitely the one in charge of the planting, and she directed us to make the rows and the hills and all that we needed to plant potatoes, beans, carrots, squash and many other vegetables. We watered by hand with buckets, walking back and forth to a stand-pipe at the corner of the block.

The people of the Cantegril would wander by with curious looks at first. But when the first of the vegetables started to poke out of the ground, a transformation happened in the Cantegril. The number of volunteer gardeners probably quadrupled. They could see that even in the midst of this squalor, they could do valuable work that could really make a difference to them and their families.

in the midst of this seemingly hellish place, was a place of living growing things. Vegetables which would provide life, in turn, to the people

Sermon by Stuart Pike

Photo Credit: edenpictures on Flickr.com

Sermon Text:

Today is the Feast day of St. Michael and All Angels. Whenever the subject of this feast day comes up in conversation someone almost always asks the question, what are angels anyway. Do you believe in them?

Certainly the existence of angels are strongly supported in the Bible throughout the Old and New testament. Jesus himself mentions them, and of course, Angels herald his own birth and his own resurrection.

But angels have become such a craze in our popular culture and so when people are asking me what I believe about angels, I think it is in the context of this craze, with some of its imagery that many people are asking the question.

Ron Rhodes in an article about angels writes that although Angels for 100s of years seemed simply to be relegated to Christmas cards and the occasional work of art, since the 1990s especially and along with the development of New Age religions and culture, Angels have been making a comeback. Big time.

Today you can find angels-only boutiques, angel newsletters and magazines, angel seminars and college-level courses, angel T-shirts, calendars, postcards, sunglasses, jewelry, and an angel Broadway play.

There have been feature stories on Angels in Newsweek and Time magazine.

So what is the fascination with Angels?

One reason cited for angel popularity in New Age literature is that angels offer people a spirituality that does not involve commitment to God or His laws. Sophy Burnham, author of A Book of Angels, believes the current popularity of angels is "because we have created this concept of God as punitive, jealous, judgmental," while "angels never are. They are utterly compassionate." Or, as Time magazine put it, "For those who choke too easily on God and his rules...angels are the handy compromise, all fluff and meringue, kind, nonjudgmental. And they are available to everyone, like aspirin."

I think that one thing that is positive about the angel craze, though, is that it shows how hungry people are for something deeper in their lives than what they usually perceive with their five senses. People are looking for something that will allow them to go far deeper than their own logic will enable them to go. They have a spiritual hunger.

But what does the Bible have to say about angels?

The story of Jacob in today's Old Testament Lesson speaks of the land in which Jacob found himself. It speaks of a special place. It was the place where Jacob had his dream and heard his God speaking to him in the dream. Jacob was running away from the mess he had gotten himself into. He was running from a brother who hated him and who wanted to kill him. He was at a cross‑road in his life, he was basically a refugee, and he went to sleep somewhere in the middle of the wilderness and he slept with a stone for his pillow.

It was such an unlikely place to find angels, or anything holy. A place that simply looked like a wilderness.

He didn't really know that God had been following his progress through his life, and he had no idea that the land on which he slept would become the land that God would give to him and his descendants. In Jacob’s dream he saw a vision of Angels ascending and descending on a ladder which stretched up into heaven. Angels in the bible always herald the divine. Usually they are messengers of God and they precede something holy which is about to happen. They aren’t the holy thing themselves. They announce the holiness.

After Jacob sees the vision of Angels in his dream, God himself shows up and gives him the promise that the land will be given to him and his offspring who will be as numerous as the dust of the earth.

And when Jacob arose from his sleep he was full of awe. In fact he even said, "How awesome is this place! This is none other

Sermon by Elliott Siteman

Photo Credit: Hadley Paul Garland on Flickr.com

Sermon by Stuart Pike

Photo Credit: Ambersky235 on Flickr.com

The story from St. Luke’s Gospel is another example of Jesus turning everything upside down. The first shall be last and the last shall be first and those who are far off will be near and those who are near (or think they are) will be far off. As usual, the Pharisees and Scribes are up to their usual antics. The tax collectors and sinners are crowding each other to try to get near to Jesus and the supposedly religiously upright are standing off making snide comments and complaining that Jesus actually welcomes sinners and eats with them!

Tony Campolo, a sociologist and preacher with a Baptist Church on the East coast of the US, tells the story of a time when he was speaking at a conference in Honolulu, Hawaii. Because he lives on the East coast, his body was six hours ahead of Hawaiian time. At three o-clock in the morning it felt like nine o-clock to him. Awake and hungry for breakfast, he found himself in a "greasy spoon" café in the small hours of the morning.

Tony says that a menu was placed in front of him. The type that is encased in a plastic folder. He decided not to pick it up because grease had piled up on it and he knew that if he opened it, something extraterrestrial would crawl out. The owner of the café, a guy named Harry, gave him a coffee and wiped his hands on his filthy apron before picking out a doughnut and handing it to Tony.

As he bit into his doughnut, eight or nine prostitutes walked in. They had just finished for the night. Their talk was loud and crude, and it was difficult to avoid listening in. He heard one tell the others it was her birthday the following day. "What do you want from me? A birthday cake?" was the sarcastic reply from one of her friends. "Why be so mean?" she replied, "I was just telling you. I don’t expect anything. I’ve never had a birthday party. I’m not expecting to have one now." When Campolo heard this he made a decision.

When the women left, he went over to Harry. "Do they always come in here?" "Yes," said Harry. "Including the one who sat next to me?" "Yes, that’s Agnes. Why do you want to know?"

Tony said, "Because I heard her say it’s her birthday tomorrow and I thought we might throw her a party." Pause. Then a smile grew across Harry’s lips. "That’d be a great idea." A moment later his wife was in on the plot. Harry’s wife, who worked in the kitchen came out and told Tony, “You don’t know this, because of what she does for a living, but Agnes is one of the kindest people in this town. She is one of the caring people of this town.”

 

Half past two the next morning. Campolo had brought decorations and Harry had baked a cake. Word had got out and it seemed as if every prostitute in Honolulu was in the café – plus Campolo. When Agnes entered with her friends, she was flabbergasted. Her mouth fell open and her knees wobbled. As she sat on a stool, everyone sang "Happy Birthday". "Blow out the candles," people shouted, but in the end Harry had to do it for her. Then he handed her a knife. "Cut the cake, Agnes, so we can all have some." She looked at the cake. Then slowly said, "Is it alright … would you mind … if I wait a little longer … if we didn’t eat it straight away?" "Sure. It’s okay," said Harry. "Take it home if you want"’ "Can I?" she said, "Can I take it home now? I’ll be back in a few minutes." And with that she left, carrying her precious cake out the café.

 

There was a stunned silence. So Campolo said, "What do you say we pray?" And they did. Campolo lead a group of prostitutes in prayer at 3:30 in the morning. When they were done, Harry said, "Hey! You never told me you were some kind of preacher. You said you were a soc

Sermon by Stuart Pike

Photo Credit: Sandy Darling

Sermon Text:

Today's Gospel lesson is about humility. The setting of the Gospel story is a party which Simon, a leader of the Pharisees is holding. It is a Sabbath and the Pharisees are watching Jesus closely to see what he will do? Will he heal on a Sabbath. What new outrageous thing will he say? Jesus has already developed a reputation.

Jesus speaks about humility.

The greatest lessons I’ve learned about humility have been taught to me in the presence of humble people. When I think of feasts, I think of some which I have been to in the third world. I remember a feast in the Philippines where most of us sat cross-legged on the floor and ate our rice with our hands with folded banana leaves as plates. I had been staying with my hosts in a small village far off the electrical grid. A people who ate only of the produce of their fields, and what they traded that produce for. These wonderful people invited me and shared what they had with me. They welcomed me into their midst. Now that was a lesson in humility for me. I, from a very wealthy country was being fed by people who own so very little.

One of the problems with Jesus telling us to be humble, is that we don't really understand what humility really is. So many seem to think that humility is about putting yourself down. About denying your gifts, about thinking that you're not worthy to do this or that etc. That isn’t humility at all. If one has a gift and yet denies it, that is putting God down: that's not using you're God-given gift as God would have you do. God made you - if you put yourself down, that reflects badly on the manufacturer.

Humility isn't about putting yourself down, rather it's about bringing other people up. Humility isn't about denying your own gift, but it is about recognizing and encouraging others’ gifts.

Jesus gives two parables that show ways that people try to achieve recognition in opposition to the principle of humility. The first way is to jockey for position at the places of honour. One might try to sit close to the host, or in a round about way, someone might choose a lower place with the desperate hope that the host will raise him or her up and so get even greater honour. Neither one of these behaviours are humble. These behaviours are about putting oneself forward and putting others down to do it.

In the second parable, the host might seek honour by inviting the right people to the banquet. Having parties with people of honour in society looks good on you. Besides, perhaps they'll invite you back. The problem with this behaviour is not with who gets invited, but with who gets excluded. This is again trying to put oneself forward by disregarding others.

But these stories are more than just lessons on manners. They are parables about the kingdom too. When Jesus tells stories about a banquet, they always give glimpses of the kingdom. These are stories which tell us how God treats people in his kingdom. This is how God thinks about people. In fact, God shows particular partiality towards the poor, the weak, the lowly, the lame. Those on the outskirts, or even on the outside of society. God doesn't do this to put down the rich and lofty - but it appears that God thinks it is the poor that need to be lifted up, and so need special attention. The fact is that God accepts all people into the kingdom without regard to their station in life. Everyone - you are invited.

When we read these parables knowing that they are stories about the Kingdom of God, we realize that it is we who are counted among the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind. Jesus is telling us to do that which God does: invites us all in, no matter who we are. God shows no partiality. We realize that we are included because it is God’s nature to be gracious.

There’s this great cart

Sermon by Stuart Pike

Photo Credit: Jimmie on Flickr.com

Sermon Text:

Sunday 21 July 2013

St. Luke’s, Burlington

Luke 10:38-42

When I read today’s Gospel story I always do a sort of mental cringe. My brain is thinking, “I don’t know, Jesus, this doesn’t sound like a good idea.” We don’t get to hear what Martha’s response to Jesus was. My imagination rises to this challenge and provides me with various scenarios, based on my own observances of women, hostesses and those engaged in the everyday tasks of maintaining a household, cooking, cleaning etc. None of those scenarios are pretty.

Probably the tamest of them involves Martha biting back a verbal response, tuning on her heel and silently returning to the kitchen and the entire household thereafter being treated to a cacophony of kitchen noises: cupboards slammed, perhaps glasses or crockery being broken, and the meal produced later that evening being delightfully cremated and served in gloomy silence.

Martha and Mary really represent two very different personalities. Martha is a doer - a worker. Mary is a be-er - a contemplator. Martha takes time to get things done. Mary takes time to think and to just be.

And who are we? thinkers or doers? I think most people are a little of both - though each person probably tends more to one way or the other. In today's lesson, Martha - the doer is upset because Mary has taken time away from doing, and is simply just being - with Jesus, and listening to him. She's learning and not doing. Martha feels abandoned and she turns to Jesus (not to Mary - but to Jesus) with her complaint. Jesus says, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her."

Automatically, the Marthas in the crowd will feel that Jesus is being hard on Martha. Even the Marys might feel that it is a little unfair that Mary didn't do her work first, and then go to sit down and listen to Jesus. Why should Martha be saddled with all of the work? It isn't fair.

Last week's lesson was the story of the Good Samaritan. In that lesson Jesus tells about how important it is to do for others. The Priest and the Levite who passed by on the other side were too worried about holy things to be able to do. They were too interested in their contemplations. Martha was more of a good Samaritan than Mary, certainly. Now Jesus seems to be saying the opposite - that doing isn't as important as being or contemplating. Jesus finishes off his story of the Good Samaritan by saying, "Go and do likewise."

Perhaps the answer is that Jesus really values both doing/work and being/thinking/contemplating. At that particular moment, Mary had chosen better path - it was a time to drop the worries about daily living, and simply to be - with Jesus. Yet at other times, it is time to stop thinking about, and to start doing it - such as the Good Samaritan did.

Last week Jesus says: "Go and do". This week it's, "stop and listen and be."

How many times do we find ourselves being so oriented to the task at hand, that we have no time to stop and listen - or even to stop and rest. Have you ever stopped and thought about how often you pray? Not in Church, I mean just you and God. I wonder how many people live their lives in this busy, busy world, and don't take the time to learn more about their faith, and to grow in their faith. How often in our week do we consciously seek God out? How well do we stop and listen? Going and doing is unbalanced if one never stops and listens and thinks.

On the other hand, how often, in other types of things do we simply listen, and not act. How often do we stop and listen to the news, and shake our head at some situation of injustice and then not act. How often do we pass up the chan

Sermon by Stuart Pike

Photo Credit: Lawrence OP on Flickr.com

Sermon Text:

Today’s Gospel lesson is so familiar it has practically become a colloquialism. Because of this, we are in danger of truly being open to the story, and actually learning something new.

Our brains say, “Ok, Good Samaritan, we’re supposed to be kind to strangers. Well, duh, of course we are.” And then our brains shut down.

The only problem is, even though we know the moral of this story, it doesn’t really mean that we will practice it. Especially when we get busy.

In an article entitled, “Too busy to be a Good Samaritan”, Jason Johston, a pastor in Texas writes about the 1973 Princeton University Study by two students of Psychology there by the names of John Darley and Daniel Batson.

“Darley and Batson met with a group of Princeton Theological Seminary students and asked half of them to prepare a short talk on employment opportunities for divinity students after graduation, and the other half to prepare a talk on the parable of The Good Samaritan. The subjects were then told they would need to walk across campus to another building in order to present their talk to a group of divinity students. A significant variable was introduced into the experiment - some presenters were told they were running late and needed to hurry across campus, and some were told they had a few minutes to spare and did not need to rush.

Strategically placed on campus was a man who appeared to have

been mugged, and as each theological student made their way across campus they would encounter him slumped in an alley, head down, coughing and groaning, in desperate need of assistance. The purpose of the experiment was to find out who would stop to help, who would not stop, and why.

One would assume given the fact that these test subjects were seminary students, and should therefore hold to a high theological standard of compassion and mercy, that all of them would stop to help a man who seems to be in need. The results, however, are stunning, and are largely governed by one mitigating factor - whether they were in a hurry to get across campus or not.

All of the students were well versed in The Good Samaritan, and many of them were preparing to give a talk on the subject, yet of the ones who were told they were running late, only 10% stopped to help the man in need on campus. Of the group who knew they had a few minutes to spare, 63% stopped to offer aid.

What this study suggests is that at times, when hurried or rushed, the beliefs we hold to are not necessarily translated into the actions of our behavior. It exposes a group of people who theologically align with the concepts of compassion and mercy, yet when set in a context of hurry, rush and busyness, become indifferent to the sufferings of those around them. It shows that pace of life can play a large role in whether or not we authentically demonstrate what we declare to be true.

This simple study reveals a profound truth about the current rhythm of many of our lives - we're too busy, we're too hurried and we're too rushed. We're so overloaded with schedules that we lose focus of what's really important. For many of us, our current pace of life leaves little room for us to be ambassadors of reconciliation, agents of hope and redemption, and accurate representatives of the Savior who came to meet the needs of a world slumped in an alley, head down, coughing and groaning, in desperate need of assistance.”

As I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, the focus of St. Luke’s Gospel has changed. Jesus now has his face “set to go to Jerusalem” meaning that he has accepted his journey of self-sacrifice to the cross and beyond, but he and his disciples

Sermon by Stuart Pike

Photo Credit: Miasiena on Flickr.com

Sermon Text:

Last week we thought about how Jesus had set his face toward Jerusalem. And that this meant not only that he was heading into the big city, but that it also represents a great change in focus – from his popular ministry: healing, teaching and miracle-making and building fame – to his chosen path toward self-sacrifice, including the cross and beyond.

So today’s Gospel, and all the next ones are about what happens to Jesus and his disciples as they are on the way to somewhere else – somewhere important. They are on a mission, one that is important to billions of people who were there and who were yet to be born.

When we are on the way to somewhere, when we’re on a mission, we often think of things that happen to us as simply interruptions along the way. Today’s gospels, and the next show us how important are the connections which happen on the way. Human interactions, whether they seem like interruptions or not, are the most important things which happen to us, on any day, and they are the ways in which we prove ourselves to be followers of Jesus.

But today’s story is really about a kind of side mission. As Jesus is heading toward Jerusalem, he knows that his disciples are going to be the ones which carry on his ministry, and so they need some on-the-job training. In many ways, this is on-the-job training on how to be an apostle. So what’s the difference between being a disciple and being an apostle? Well it’s quite subtle, but a disciple is one who is learning from the prophet. A disciples sits at the feet of the prophet and listens, perhaps asks questions, and soaks in the wisdom of the prophet.

An apostle, on the other hand, is someone who is sent. An apostle teaches others about the prophet. An apostle even imitates the prophet and does what the prophet has done. Jesus knows, as his face is set toward Jerusalem, that his disciples are going to have to become apostles, so that his wisdom and his teaching will continue, even after he is gone.

So Jesus sends out his disciples. Notice that it isn’t just the trusty 12, but he appoints 70 others. Jesus has quite a following and he sends them out in pairs, to teach, to heal, to cast out demons and to tell people (whether they receive them or not) that the kingdom of God has come near.

They have sat at Jesus’ feet and learned from him for long enough, now it is time to imitate him. He sends them out.

In many ways, it sounds like a coming of age story. They have been followers so far – now they have to be doers and leaders sent, as Jesus says, like lambs among wolves.

It is amazing how often the Gospel stories make connections with what is happening in our own lives.

Today, between the 8:15 am and 10 a.m. services, Katherine and I are sending out our daughter, Louisa to go on her first big trip, out of province, for a 5 week intensive French Immersion program at Trois-Pistoles, Quebec. We are packing her off on a Via train, which we are calling the Hogwarts Express, leaving platform 9 and ¾ at Aldershot station.

There are some huge differences between how Jesus was sending his disciples out, and how we are sending our daughter out.

Jesus first commissions the disciples, saying, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest. Go on your way. See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves.”

While we have been warning Louisa to beware the advances of any cute francophone boys she might meet while away, we are certainly hoping that she won’t be like a lamb in the midst of wolves.

While Louisa is going to learn more French, she will be like a disciple

Sermon by Stuart Pike

Photo Credit: Sandy Darling

Sermon Text:

Today’s Gospel lesson marks a pivotal change in the Gospel of Luke. Up until now Jesus has been teaching and healing and performing miracles. His fame has grown and he has developed quite a reputation. One commentator I heard says that if this Gospel were cinematic, at this point in the film, the rooster on top of the barn would change direction.

From now on, Jesus is facing a new direction. Luke’s code language is telling: “he set his face to go to Jerusalem.” It doesn’t just mean he’s heading to the big city, it means all that will happen when he has gone there for the last time. It means he is heading for his long journey of self-sacrifice – even to the point of death, and beyond. It means he has accepted what he has to do, and he is choosing this difficult path.

Many of the stories up until now have been stories that we get in other Gospels. They might have a different take, a different emphasis, but we can recognize them. Now, however, most of the stories going forward are ones only covered in the Gospel of Luke. There are themes of hospitality, going forward, as well as themes of either reception and acceptance, or rejection of Jesus.

This theme of hospitality (or lack of it) and reception vs rejection is illustrated at the beginning of the Gospel.

Because Jesus has set his face to go to Jerusalem the people of the Samaritan village reject Jesus; they will not offer him hospitality. The immediate response of the disciples, James and John is amazing and alarming! “Shall we call down fire upon the town? they ask.”

Have these disciples learned anything about Jesus in the time that they have been with him? You really don’t want to mess with these guys. No wonder Jesus, elsewhere, calls these two the Sons of Thunder. If these two wer in the movie Apocalypse Now, they would be the ones to say, “I love the smell of napalm in the morning.”

Fortunately Jesus is more tolerant than they.

What follows next is a series of interchanges that Jesus has with several people who meet him along the road – as his face is set to go to Jerusalem. All these interchanges are about following Jesus. They are either telling Jesus that they will follow him, or he is calling them to follow.And here’s this pivotal change again. There’s such a sense of urgency. But just what is the big deal here? There are still going to be 10 more chapters until the end of Luke. Why does Jesus respond with such urgency here?

At first look, it seems like Jesus is having a bad hair day – like he’s grumpy or something. Someone is keen enough to say he will follow him wherever he goes, and Jesus just responds with an enigmatic: ““Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”

He tells another to follow him and when he says he just has to bury his father first, he responds with, ““Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” I must say that in all of my 25 years of ministering to the dying and the dead and the bereaved, I have never tried this pastoral approach! And I don’t think I’m going to try it either!

And then, finally the last one who says that he will follow him, but first he just wants to say goodbye to his family and his friends, Jesus says, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” Ouch! Isn’t that a little harsh, Jesus? What is the urgency? Isn’t this the same Jesus who said that his burden is easy and his yoke is light?

And what does his message in today’s Gospel have to do with us. What kind of meaning does this have for our lives?