(prayer)
Well, time is standard
again.
Do you feel balanced again
now that the hour we gave away last March has been returned?
//
Of course, in reality, no
time has been truly added or lost. All
we've done is play with the clocks.
Clocks are merely measurement tools.
Time progresses whether we
are measuring it or not.
//
In spite of our best sci-fy
imaginings, for every momemt of history that has ever been known, the only
truth we can claim is that we experience
time in a one-way, linear fashion: past > present > future. Always in that order. That > This > Then.
//
The tools we have created
to measure time and to predict its patterns simply are based on our
experiences.
Ancient humans were able to
see that the skylights followed a
pattern: the moon's appearance changed in predictable ways; the sun's angle off
the horizon did the same thing. Certain
celestial patterns resulted in predictably colder or warmer temperatures and
(through trial and error) they discovered that some patterns accompanied better
or worse growing seasons.
Even though people and
animals obviously aged in a linear way, the seasons of the world had a general
cyclical pattern.
//
//
When we imagine how our
solar system works, we usually picture elliptical planetary orbits where we
follow the same path year after year.
This can make us think that time repeats itself. But that is not accurate. As this video demonstrates, our planet's journey
through space is not elliptical, but spiral.
When we complete an annual orbit, we do not return to the same place we were a year ago, we are in an entirely new place in the universe.
Time moves forward.
//
//
History is not destined to
repeat itself, simply because patterns seem familiar.
And so, in the same way,
what we have done, what experience is in our past, is not necessarily a
blueprint for where we will be in the future.
//
//
If you saw the Facebook
event for today's church service, you might have noticed that I choose the
image of a car driving in a snowstorm to promote our time together.
A week and a half ago, when
I planned this service, I figured that a winter scene for the first Sunday in
November was a reasonable guess.
More proof that time is
linear, not circular.
//
Even so, we did experience
a taste of winter back on thanksgiving weekend.
And so, we have already been reminded that we do benefit from our past
experiences.
Winter driving is something
people in our part of the world get familiar with - even if it takes a storm or
two to remember how to put in practice what we have learned in winters past.
As winter approaches, our
habits and behaviors are repeated: warmer clothes, thicker jackets, gloves and
toques are brought out of their storage places because we carry forward the
lessons of our past.
//
//
This coming Friday, Canada
(and other nations) will remember the end of the First
great european [World] War of the 20th century. Ninety-eight years ago, when
the Armistice of Compiègne was signed at the eleventh hour, on the eleventh day
of the eleventh month, WW1 was hoped to be remembered as the war to end all
wars.
It wasn't. Obviously that it posthumously was given the
number one.
But the hope remains.
I think that it is significant
that we wear poppies: symbols of life emerging in spite of war's death.
In
Flanders Field, the poppies grow,
Between
the crosses, row on row.
The poppy brings to mind
the grave, not the gun.
For me, whose maternal
grandfather survived military service in both World Wars, poppies and
Remembrance Day are not celebrations of battlefield victories or the specific
turns of history that resulted from war, but they recognize that war violently
ends lives and changes the futures for communities, for circles of friends, for
families.
Remembrance Day (for me)
has to inspire us to avoid war as our future unfolds.
//
//
As we spiral through the
void, we have wisdom gained through past experiences. And we strive to use that wisdom as we make
the choices we control today to set us on our desired future path.
//
//
The scriptures we heard
today share that message as well.
//
Haggai was a Judean prophet
from the time after the Babylonian exile (~540 BCE). He preaches to a people engaged in nation
rebuilding.
For 70 years or so, many
people of Judah were living as forced refugees in a foreign land. During those decades, they built houses and
planted crops by the Rivers of Babylon.
People married and had children and they shared this history of their
faith to new generations that had never set foot on Judean soil.
When Persia replaced
Babylon as the dominant world empire, the remaining exiles and their
descendants were allowed to return to their homeland.
//
The Jerusalem Temple had
been looted and laid ruin as part of the initial Babylonian invasion. During Haggai's time, a new Temple was being
built out of the rubble of the first temple.
Today, we heard the
prophet's reflective question to the elders in the crowd: You, who saw this house in its former glory, how does it look to you
now?
The elders knew the history
first hand in a way that the stories told to the younger judeans could not
convey. The elders knew that (even as
the second temple began to rise up from the rubble of its predecessor) that it
would not measure up to the former house. It was going to be smaller, less ornate - a
lesser reflection of that which had once been.
The truth is that more than
rocks and mortar had be destroyed by the Babylonians - part of the national
psyche was lost as well.
Building new walls in a
familiar place would not turn the clock back.
History was not being
reclaimed.
A fresh history was being
written.
Haggai's message was that
neither the temple nor Judah was not going to be returning to its former glory,
and yet they were still standing on the edge of a hopeful future - one that
would be different (and hopefully better) that the decades of exile.
//
//
//
The pattern followed by the
compilers of the Revised Common Lectionary (which I typically follow to chose
the scripture readings for each Sunday) is to offer a Psalm that compliments
the Old Testament reading. Haggai
chapter two speaks of God, who is everpresent and faithful to the people in
spite of changing circumstances. Psalm
145 is a hymn of praise - hounoring God's steadfastness. It is the kind of worshipful psalm that would
have been sung in the first temple.
Pairing Haggai 2 with Psalm
145 gives us the message that God's covenant with the people endures the
passage of time and changing circumstances.
There is also an almost
hidden, subtle hint in Psalm 145 that we miss because we read it in English.
Psalm 145 is an acrostic psalm containing a visual
pattern that has nothing to do with the meaning of the words.
An acrostic style of poetry
is one where each line begins with a different sequential letter of the
alphabet. In English, the first word of
the first line would begin with an A,
line two, a B, then C, D, etc.
In the Hebrew text of Psalm
145, the first line begins with the Hebrew letter alef, then bet, gimel, dalet, etc. - all the way down to tav.
The physical structure of
the psalm professes a linear travel through time - a transition from the
beginning moving toward an end.
The poetic structure of the
psalm mirrors the literal message of the words - that God is worthy of praise
and worship because God is steadfastly faithful. God will see the people through the passage
of time.
//
//
//
The past has taught us lessons -
whether we planned this this way or not.
The past always has lessons (wisdom - if we are astute) that we can choose
to keep in mind as we live in the present and as we seek to set a preferred
path for the future.
We honour fallen soldiers by not
setting ourselves up to put a new generation in their boots.
We honour the faith shared with us from
years gone by (not by repeating traditions and rituals from an earlier time)
but by discovering that there is still truth in the spirit of Haggai 2 and
Psalm 145:
God Is Present Still
not as a repeat of the presence of God
in the lives of our forebears, but in a fresh and new way for each of us...
right now!
To use the solar system video as a
metaphor, God is journeying with us as time progresses.
//
When we come (again) to this table, we
will proclaim that we are remembering that last
supper Jesus and his closest disciples shared. But the bread will be fresh and newly
broken. The cup will be filled with
juice not that long off the vine, newly poured and made ready for today.
In a way, the sacredness of communion
is that is not only looks back, but invites us to appreciate the moment we are
in and the fellow disciples with us at today's table.
And more so, as we will pray at the end
of the meal, we hope to carry the value of this nourishment on to the next steps of our paths of life and
faith.
//
//
Take
courage,
all
you people of the land,
for
I am with you.
My
spirit abides with you.
Do
not fear:
says
the LORD.
//
Let us pray:
God, we long for a sense of deep
connection with you. Help us notice the
many ways you fill our world with beauty and grace. Amen.
**offering**
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