Saturday, November 28, 2009

Be Alert, Not Alarmed

14The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. 15In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David; and he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. 16In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety. And this is the name by which it will be called: “The Lord is our righteousness.” (Jeremiah 33:14-16 NRSV)


The days are surely coming… I’ll bet you’ve heard that one before… The days are surely coming… when no child in Australia will live in poverty. The days are surely coming… when Iraq or Afghanistan will be a functioning, democratic state. The days are surely coming… when poverty and disease are no more. Of course, it’s not just the positive promises that begin with that tag…

The days are surely coming… when the world will be destroyed by nuclear war. The days are surely coming… when climate change will have so affected the earth that it will be inhabitable. The days are surely coming… when the world will be so overpopulated that there will not be enough resources to feed and clothe and house everybody. And whether we want those things to happen or not, whether we think those things are going to happen or not, whether we even have half a clue of working out what is actually going on or not… we are caught up in the waiting to see if the days might surely come sometime, before we get to old or tired, or stop waiting altogether, or simply give up and die. Those words can place us in a pretty powerless, liminal, nebulous situation: the days are surely coming…

The days are surely coming… is it really worth getting up in the morning? The days are surely coming… is there anything that we can do to change it? The days are surely coming… is there any possibility that the inevitable might be prevented, or the ideal might be achieved? What on earth is the point? Why bother with such statements, such predictions, such portents and omens and signs? Why not just continue on our merry way without any thought for the future or the past? I’m okay, we’re okay, what’s the big deal?

The big deal of course is that it’s not okay. We continue to witness enormous turmoil in our world, in nations, in our communities, in ourselves. There are wars and rumours of wars. There are droughts and there are famines. There are epidemics. There is significant climate change. There are clear needs for water, for food, for medical assistance, for health care and nutrition, for education… for hope.

Even when human beings have everything we need, we cannot survive without hope. Especially when human beings do not have the things they need to survive, we cannot live without hope. Although human beings have many, many competing needs, if hope is not in the equation, then life is diminished and may even fade away…

The need for hope is fundamental to the human condition. We are aware of the past, we operate in the present and we have an eye towards the future. We gather knowledge that informs predictions. We notice signs and we analyse them. We are creatures concerned with meaning and process. We witness ourselves and the world around us; and we make judgements and decisions. But we cannot and do not make judgments and decisions for life and future without a sense of possibility or hope.

That’s why Jeremiah is concerned with giving the people a vision of something beyond where they are. The book of Jeremiah comes out of the context of exile. It’s the 6th century BCE. The temple at Jerusalem has been destroyed. The people have been scattered. Nations and communities have been broken and taken under the dominion of a superpower. It seems like God might have forsaken the people, because didn’t God give the people of Israel a promise, several promises in fact? Didn’t God make a covenant with them? Didn’t God promise that they would belong to God?

Oh the people don’t get off scot-free. This great calamity is seen very much in the context of the Covenant, and for such a momentous event to have occurred, surely the people have shown that they have strayed from their responsibility to God. There’s an awful lot of lament and judgment and weeping and gnashing of teeth in Jeremiah, but there’s an awful lot of hope too.

And the hope largely arises from the commitment of the people to God despite the great calamity, despite what is happening around them, despite any evidence that might suggest that God may have abandoned them. Their hope is founded in their faith; and their faith is founded in God. The God in whom they believe is known to be trustworthy, to be faithful, and to be powerful, to be bigger than any calamity that might afflict them as the people of God, even as the chosen people of God. God is still expected to be faithful, to be powerful, and God is expected to be just. And justice demands restoration and renewal: restoration to covenant relationship and renewal of the signs that attend that: the Temple, the city, the nation, the promise.

14The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. 15In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David; and he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. 16In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety. And this is the name by which it will be called: “The Lord is our righteousness.” (Jeremiah 33:14-16 NRSV)


For the people of the exile, it is the Word of God that sustains them: the remembering of God’s promises; the reciting of the covenant; the recording of the tradition. And the tradition is one of hope. God chose us. God lived with us. God is in covenant with us. God is faithful. God is powerful. God is just. Therefore there is hope. What has been before will be again. Therefore it is worth living, and acting in faith and for justice.

Hope is pretty much Luke’s concern too. At the time that Luke is writing this account of Jesus, it’s the late 1st century. Another temple has been destroyed. A different super power is in control. And worse, the promised heir of David has been identified, crucified, and destroyed. Again it is the Word of God that sustains: the remembrance of the hope proclaimed by Jesus; the remembrance of the hope proclaimed in Jesus; the vision of the kingdom offered through him; the promise of resurrection in Christ. God chose us. God lived with us. God is in covenant with us. God is faithful. God is powerful. God is just. Therefore there is hope. What has been before is but a foretaste of what will be in the fullness of God’s realm. What has been before is but the inauguration, the beginning of what will be the culmination, the final effect of the promises of God. It is worth living. It is worth acting in faith and for justice.

In the very next chapter of Luke, Jesus gathers the disciples in an upper room, and we are reminded that for us too in the midst of our world’s turmoil and upheaval, it is the Word of God that sustains, the Word of God in Jesus. In the celebration of the Lord’s Supper we are brought once again into a foretaste of the fullness of God’s promises. We are caught up into Christ, the sign and seal of a new covenant with all people. We are re-made as the Body of Christ. And we are reminded of our hope. God chooses us. God dwells with us. God is in covenant with us. God is faithful. God is powerful. God is just. Therefore we have hope. What we share in the meal of Christ is but a foretaste of what will be in the fullness of God’s realm. What we share in the great thanksgiving is but the inauguration, the beginning of what will be the culmination, the final effect of the promises of God. It is worth living. It is worth acting in faith and for justice. In this context, and only this, we are called to be alert to the signs of the times, but not alarmed because it is God who is coming to enfold all things into God’s very being.

Faith, hope and love: this is what we long for.
Faith, hope and love: this is what we need.
Faith, hope and love: this is what we long for.
Oh, teach us how to live. (Trisha Watts

Thursday, November 26, 2009

A Greeting and a Blessing for Advent

The hope of the promised One;
the peace of the sent One;
the joy of the coming One;
and the love of the One who sent Jesus into our world
for the sake of the reconciliation of all creation
be with you all.
And also with you.

The God who breaks into our lives
interrupt your summer lethargy with the refreshment of hope.
Christ Jesus, emissary of God,
bring you the relief of cooling breezes.
The Holy Spirit immerse you in the river of life. Amen.

Monday, November 23, 2009

An Alternative to Advent Candles

Advent 1
The baptismal font is placed in a prominent position. A jug of water stands nearby.
Then [Jesus] told them a parable: "Look at the fig tree and all the trees; as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near.” (Luke 21:29-31 NRSV)

With large, strong movements, some water from the jug is poured into the font.
On this first Sunday of Advent,
we pour some water
in the name of the One who comes—
bringing God’s reign
into our lives and into our world
renewing and refreshing us,
disturbing and challenging us,
calling us outward into God’s mission
and forward into God’s future.
We wait in hope for the One who comes.

The people sing (Tune: “Light One Candle” Together in Song 286):
Pour some water for hope,
just some water for hope.
Christ is hope for everyone.
O Christ, come soon!
For congregations where appropriate: try adding actions (e.g. being a jug of water like “I’m a little teapot”).

Advent 2
The baptismal font is placed in a prominent position. A jug of water stands nearby. With large, strong movements, some water from the jug is poured into the font.
On the first Sunday of Advent,
we poured some water
in the name of the One who comes—
as we wait in hope for God’s future.

[John] went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah, "The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: 'Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’” (Luke 3:3-4 NRSV)

With large, strong movements, some water from the jug is poured into the font.
On this second Sunday of Advent,
we pour some water
in the name of the One who comes—
reconciling the whole creation with God
and with each other,
bringing peace with justice
and life in all it fullness,
calling us together as the people of God,
and onward as agents for reconciliation
We long for the peace of the One who comes.

The people sing (Tune: “Light One Candle” Together in Song 286):
Pour some water for hope,
just some water for hope.
Christ is hope for everyone.
O Christ, come soon!

Pour some water for peace,
just some water for peace.
Christ brings peace for everyone.
O Christ, come soon!
For congregations where appropriate: try adding actions (e.g. being a jug of water like “I’m a little teapot”).

Advent 3
The baptismal font is placed in a prominent position. A jug of water stands nearby. With large, strong movements, some water from the jug is poured into the font.

On the first Sunday of Advent,
we poured some water
in the name of the One who comes—
as we wait in hope for God’s future.

With large, strong movements, some water from the jug is poured into the font.
On the second Sunday of Advent,
we poured some water
in the name of the One who comes—
the One who brings peace and reconciliation.

As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, John answered all of them by saying, "I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.” (Luke 3:15-16 NRSV)


With large, strong movements, some water from the jug is poured into the font.
On this third Sunday of Advent,
we pour some water
in the name of the One who comes—
celebrating God’s purpose
and revealing God’s being,
loving and giving,
laughing and sharing,
calling us to the feast of life
and wonder of God’s freedom.
We anticipate the joy of the One who comes.

The people sing (Tune: “Light One Candle” Together in Song 286):
Pour some water for hope,
just some water for hope.
Christ is hope for everyone.
O Christ, come soon!

Pour some water for peace,
just some water for peace.
Christ brings peace for everyone.
O Christ, come soon!

Pour some water for joy,
Living Water of joy.
Christ is coming with celebration—new life, peace, hope and joy.
Christ brings joy for everyone.
O Christ, come soon!
For congregations where appropriate: try adding actions (e.g. being a jug of water like “I’m a little teapot”).

Advent 4
The baptismal font is placed in a prominent position. A jug of water stands nearby. With large, strong movements, some water from the jug is poured into the font.
On the first Sunday of Advent,
we poured some water
in the name of the One who comes—
as we wait in hope for God’s future.

With large, strong movements, some water from the jug is poured into the font.
On the second Sunday of Advent,
we poured some water
in the name of the One who comes—
the One who brings peace and reconciliation.

With large, strong movements, some water from the jug is poured into the font.
On the third Sunday of Advent,
we poured some water
in the name of the One who comes—
the One who comes with joy and celebration.

And Mary said, "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name.” (Luke 1:46-49 NRSV)

With large, strong movements, some water from the jug is poured into the font.

On this fourth Sunday of Advent,
we pour some water
in the name of the One who comes—
enfolding all creation into God’s loving embrace,
heedlessly loving for love’s sake,
calling us to tend God’s creation with care
and love God’s people with persistence.
We celebrate God’s gracious love shown to us in Jesus Christ.

The people sing (Tune: “Light One Candle” Together in Song 286):
Pour some water for hope,
just some water for hope.
Christ is hope for everyone.
O Christ, come soon!

Pour some water for peace,
just some water for peace.
Christ brings peace for everyone.
O Christ, come soon!

Pour some water for joy,
Living Water of joy.
Christ is coming with celebration—new life, peace, hope and joy.
Christ brings joy for everyone.
O Christ, come soon!

Pour some water for love,
lots of water for love.
Christ brings love for everyone.
O Christ, come soon!
For congregations where appropriate: try adding actions (e.g. being a jug of water like “I’m a little teapot”).

Christmas
The baptismal font is placed in a prominent position. A jug of water stands nearby. With large, strong movements, some water from the jug is poured into the font.
On the first Sunday of Advent,
we poured some water
in the name of the One who comes—
as we wait in hope for God’s future.

With large, strong movements, some water from the jug is poured into the font.
On the second Sunday of Advent,
we poured some water
in the name of the One who comes—
the One who brings peace and reconciliation.

With large, strong movements, some water from the jug is poured into the font.
On the third Sunday of Advent,
we poured some water
in the name of the One who comes—
the One who comes with joy and celebration.

With large, strong movements, some water from the jug is poured into the font.
On the fourth Sunday of Advent,
we poured some water
in the name of the One who comes—
the One who reveals God’s gracious love.

Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for see--I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is the Messiah, the Lord.” (Luke 2:9-11 NRSV)


With large, strong movements, water is flung from the font over the congregation.
Today we celebrate the One who has come and is coming—
the one who is our hope, our life, our joy, our salvation;
the one who brings peace, justice and reconciliation;
the one who reveals to us God’s gracious love
more fully than anything else ever known to God’s creation.
And we remember that we have been enfolded into Christ
as the people of God, the communion of the Spirit, the body of Christ,
and that we are called to proclaim and embody Christ in our world.

The people sing (Tune: “Light One Candle” Together in Song 286):
Pour some water for hope,
just some water for hope.
Christ is hope for everyone.
O Christ, come soon!

Pour some water for peace,
just some water for peace.
Christ brings peace for everyone.
O Christ, come soon!

Pour some water for joy,
Living Water of joy.
Christ is coming with celebration—new life, peace, hope and joy.
Christ brings joy for everyone.
O Christ, come soon!

Pour some water for love,
lots of water for love.
Christ brings love for everyone.
O Christ, come soon!

Christ, our Saviour, has come!
Living Water o’erflows.
Love, Joy, Peace and Hope abound.
Glory to God!
For congregations where appropriate: try adding actions (e.g. being a jug of water like “I’m a little teapot”).

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Give It All?!

There was a widow of prayer
whose pantry was utterly bare,
when all else was spent
she gave her last cent
as God’s own daughter and heir.
© B.D. Prewer 2000 http://www.bruceprewer.com/DocB/B061112.htm

It’s a nice little ditty, a bit of a limerick from Australian writer, Bruce Prewer. It takes the story of the widow who gave “everything she had” and turns it into a bit of fun, perhaps with the intention of getting under our guard in relation to a story that we have heard many times before and yet often hold at arm’s length because we know full well the challenging demand it places on our lives. And we also know that it’s not just about a guilt trip to make us put more money in the plate. No, this story is far more demanding than that. It’s not just about money, it’s about life—everything we have, all we have to live on, our whole selves.
There was a widow of prayer
whose pantry was utterly bare,
when all else was spent
she gave her last cent
as God’s own daughter and heir.
© B.D. Prewer 2000

In relation to taking on commitments like that, we’re all in different places. Some of us are commitment shy; some of us rush in to make commitments that are just impossible to keep; some of us take so long trying to decide whether to make a commitment, that the opportunities pass us by; and some of us, perhaps just a very few of us, make and keep strong and long-term commitments to which we remain loyal the whole of our lives.

Some commitments come to us by our own decision; others are made for us by our being born into particular families or particular communities. Some commitments look like a pledge to one thing and turn out to be an obligation to something different entirely in the long run. Some commitments, perhaps a few of them, are clear and open and obvious from the beginning.

Perhaps one of the most significant commitments that any of us will make is to a life partner, a husband, a wife, a significant other.
I, N, in the presence of God, take you, N, to be my wife/husband. All that I am I give to you, and all that I have I share with you. Whatever the future holds, I will love you and stand by you as long as we both shall live. This is my solemn vow.

And I’d wager that I’d get excellent odds on the chance that none of us quite knew what we were letting ourselves in for on the days that we made such commitments.
Commitments are made when we open ourselves to the possibility that our priorities are not the only ones, and maybe even not the most important ones; when we make ourselves vulnerable to an other, to the future, and to possibilities other than we had imagined.

Commitments to each other—spouses, families, friends, communities—are part of the relational nature of who we are as humans. Different kinds of commitments are demanded in different relationships. In relation to our children and grandchildren, we know where our priorities lie—they’re number one! Others come in at different places on the continuum for a whole bunch of different reasons. But there’s no doubt, that commitments are us. Of course, that doesn’t mean we get them right.

The story of the rich people and the poor widow is a story about commitment. It’s a story about the kind of commitments that we can make when we have safe, stable secure lives—commitments which appear to be great, but which, in relative terms are just like dipping our toes in the water, rather than plunging in wholeheartedly. It’s also a story about the kind of commitments that perhaps we are only able to make from a position of vulnerability—wholehearted commitments that plunge us into an unknown future for the sake of our commitments to others.
All that I am I give to you, and all that I have I share with you. Whatever the future holds, I will love you and stand by you as long as we both shall live.

The call of God on our lives, to be the people of God, to share in the mission of God and the ministry of Christ, for the sake of the world, is a call that we probably only dare take on when we are most open, most vulnerable, most exposed. There are ways of pretending that the type of commitment that we’ve made is worth more than it really is; but it is only in our weakness, in our poverty, in our openness, in our vulnerability, that we are able to offer all that we have, everything we have to live on. For perhaps, it is only in such moments that we recognise that all that we have comes from God, all that we are is because of God, and all that we hope for is that which God has promised to us.
There was a woman of Zion
with nought but her faith to rely on,
as she came to God’s house
rich fools saw a mouse
but to Jesus she was a lion.
© B.D. Prewer 2000 http://www.bruceprewer.com/DocB/B061112.htm

Making wholehearted commitments isn’t for the faint-hearted, even as it is for those who are willing to vulnerable, willing to open themselves to unknown possibilities. The covenant affirmation which comes to us from the Methodist tradition paints a picture of just some of those unknown possibilities in the face of a wholehearted commitment to the purpose of God.
I am no longer my own, but yours.
Put me to what you will,
rank me with whom you will;
put me to doing, put me to suffering;
let me be employed for you or laid aside for you;
exalted for you or brought low for you;
let me be full, let me be empty;
let me have all things, let me have nothing;
I freely and wholeheartedly yield all things
to your pleasure and disposal.
And now, glorious and blessed God,
Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
you are mine and I am yours,
to the glory and praise of your name. Amen.

Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m not asking you to put your brains on hold, or run yourselves into burn-out, or make rash decisions without any thought for consequences. The Christian tradition has done enough of that. But if we thought that a commitment to God and God’s purposes could be a half-hearted or part-time affair, we’d be kidding ourselves—precisely because wholehearted commitments demand time and attention. Marriages don’t work without communication and communication not just on the easy things, but on the difficult things, the things that need working through. Caring for the members of our families and friends doesn’t happen when we just choose the good stuff. And working for a better world doesn’t happen when we’re only in it for ourselves. Wholehearted commitments require intentional work with long-term goals in view—goals that lie beyond our immediate circumstances, beyond our lifetimes, extending on into an infinite future. And commitment to that work and those goals requires that we recognise our own vulnerability and commit ourselves to act in the face of that vulnerability for the sake of God’s call.
There was a woman of Zion
with nought but her faith to rely on,
as she came to God’s house
rich fools saw a mouse
but to Jesus she was a lion.
© B.D. Prewer 2000 http://www.bruceprewer.com/DocB/B061112.htm