(prayer)
//
Some things
that are true:
//
The eleven and twelve years
olds of the Leduc Wildcats are the best peewee football team in Alberta.
//
Leonard Cohen has sung his
final earthly song.
//
Even though she has full,
enthusiastic support of the Scarborough ON congregation she has served for
nearly twenty years (which by all accounts is a happy and healthy
community), the Reverend Greta Vosper is facing a formal [disciplinary] hearing
to determine whether she will be allowed to remain a United Church minister.
//
A Calgary-Edmonton Grey Cup
final remains a possibility (for the next few hours at least).
//
A seven year old
Saskatchewan girl was killed by her father In an apparent murder-suicide.
//
Donald Trump will be
inaugurated as the next American president.
//
//
There are things that
happen which we expect.
There are things that
happen which shock us.
A lot of things happen all
the time which escape our notice.
What is true is that stuff happens.
//
//
Stuff we hope for - that
result in excited cheers.
Stuff that frightens us -
that depresses us, worries us.
//
Pollsters, prognosticators,
prophets, pundants and poets point us to possible futures: attempting to
prescribe meaning and purpose.
//
//
Another truth is... that
(as we sit in this moment of history's path), the next pages of our story have
yet to be written.
//
Theologically, I am a free-will guy; I don't believe in
predestination.
The future is an uncertain
mystery we have yet to create or discover.
In fact, we are still
struggling to try and write a fair and accurate record of what we have already
been through.
//
//
//
The rural peasants from the
Galilean north looked (wide-mouthed) up at the impressive centre of their faith
and tradition. They tried to imagine how
complex the planning and construction of the Temple must have been: skills and
knowledge and patience that seemed beyond anything they had ever experienced.
The Temple seemed so
solid. It could withstand almost
anything - built to last, as they say.
And yet, locals and
pilgrims alike knew the stories of old
that told them that the building (that had embraced their imaginations in that
moment) was, in fact, the second such structure in their history: built to last was an obvious
exaggeration.
Six centuries earlier, a
different building stood there. And it
had a story too - part of the people's story.
The story of the people in
this land was one of how the first few generations of one particular immigrant
family had fled Canaan (their adopted homeland) during a famine and resettled
in the land of Egypt. This one family
gave birth to an identifiable culture with a unique faith in a God they called
Yahweh.
In time, the descendants of
Jacob (whose nickname was the one who wrestles with God: Israel)
were forced into national servitude until a leader (named Moses) arose and led
the people back to their ancestral lands in Canaan.
During the journey back,
they developed the practice of having a set-aside, special place to worship and
honour their God and the law that would guide them in the land they were
seeking to possess. The tent-tabernacle
was a place to shout Praise Yahweh: Hallelujah!
At each stop along the way,
the tent of tabernacle was given a prominent place in these nomads' camp.
After a decades-long
journey, they reached Canaan and made it their home.
Eventually, the tabernacle-tent-of-the-journey
found a home in a new city called Jerusalem.
The people of Israel were
now an established kingdom nation in an established land.
There came a time when the
irony of having a nomadic, temporary worship structure for this established
nation and burgeoning world power became too much to bear: a stone temple was
built.
The Temple was more than a
worship space. It was a symbol of
endurance and power: the culmination of more than two millennia of history. Hallelujahs abound!
//
And yet, the Temple of
Solomon (as strong as it was, physically and symbolically) was not immune to
change.
Three hundred years after
it was built, an Empire from Babylon pillaged anything of value and then
knocked it down in only a matter of months.
//
From the squalor of refugee
camps hundreds of kilometres away, the Israelites watched the strength of their
nation dwindle to almost nothing.
//
When the grandchildren of
those exiles returned to Canaan, they found only a pile of stones where the
legendary temple had stood.
//
As we heard this morning,
in that time of muted hope, a prophet spoke for Yahweh, their God: I am about to create new heavens and a new earth. Be glad and
rejoice forever in what I am creating: Jerusalem as a joy, and its people as a
delight. No more shall you hear the sound of weeping or the cry of distress.
You will not build and plant for others but will build houses and inhabit them
yourselves and you will plant vineyards and eat the fruit. You will long enjoy
the work of your hands. No one shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy
mountain, says Yahweh.
Out of that hope, in the
late 6th century BCE, the foundations of a second temple were laid: a temple
that (600 years later) the disciples of Jesus marvelled at in the passage we
heard from Luke 21.
Jesus' followers knew the
history of the cycles of stability and ruin and still they could not imagine
the building-before-their-eyes not being there.
Jesus read that conclusion
in their eyes and so he decided to upset their utopic vision with these
words: The days will come when not one stone will be
left upon each other - all will be thrown down.
//
Really? Teacher, when
will this be? Will we get some warning?
//
Look around you. There is
conflict in the world: wars,
insurrections. Even the earth is unpredictable: earthquakes, drought, famine, plagues. Look around, nothing lasts forever - this
temple is no exception.
//
As shocking as those words may have
been for Jesus' disciples, by the time people first read the gospel of Luke, it
was already a matter of fact. Less than forty years after Jesus' warning, before Luke's gospel was written, an
insurrection against Roman rule in Jerusalem resulted in Temple number two
meeting the same fate as its predecessor.
A cold and a broken hallelujah.
//
//
//
So, how are doing on this edge of the
future that will be unfolding before us? - a future that we have a certain
measure of control over, but also a future that (in many ways) we will simply
need to accept and adapt to.
How are we doing?
//
For several weeks, reflecting on the
fact that the readings from Isaiah 65 and Luke 21 were coming up for this
Sunday, I was already planning on preaching from the perspective of an open,
yet-to-be written, uncertain future.
I did not expect to be dealing with the
prospective future coming as a result of the election results we witnessed
south of the 49th last Tuesday.
Political leanings aside, I think it is
fair to say that practically everyone was shocked that Hillary Clinton is not
the president-elect.
Even the most ardent Trumpeters have to admit the
decisiveness of his electoral college victory was a surprise.
Although the possibility of a Donald
Trump presidency was always possible, a significant majority of Americans and
world onlookers (included, I suspect, even most of those voting for the
Republican Ticket) did not anticipate the actual outcome.
It is a lesson for all of us - that (in
any given moment), our best guesses and plans for the future are just that:
plans and guesses.
Beyond the specifics of that election,
in every way that matters, we are ... right now ... standing on the edge
of an uncertain future - engaging in a combination of making and discovering
what will be.
//
The future is not set or 100%
predictable. It is shrouded in
mystery. And yet, as Jesus said, there
are signs around us that give us hints about possible directions we might end
up taking.
//
Of course signs are often easy to see
in retrospect. I'm sure you have have
had times - in relation to some event in your life - when you had cause to say
"I should have seen that coming".
//
In the past five days,
media prognosticators have looked back to discover why they should have seen President Trump coming.
Part of the discussion is a
realization that the recent years are filled examples of governance fatigue and discontent that is more than the normal
posturing of opposition parties, who are not happy that they other side is in power.
Throughout the last decade,
all around the world, people have been expressing that they don't feel
represented by those in power. There have been actions that (when we take note)
serve as signs that there has been a growing, systemic mistrust of established
leadership - a mistrust built on what is seen as the self-interest of the
powerful to simply maintain power for themselves... rather than to govern with
an entrusted-power for the betterment of all.
Examples:
·
Various
uprisings of the Arab spring
·
Occupy
Wall Street
·
Greek
referendum on austerity
·
Election
of Rachael Notley and NDP (after 41
years of PC governments)
·
Election
of Justin Trudeau and the Liberals (after a decade of Stephen Harper's
Conservative government)
·
Black
Lives Matter
·
The
Alt-right movement
·
Brexit
·
Bernie
Sanders
·
Donald
Trump
Looking back now, we can
see the signs that made President-elect Trump happen..
What most of us missed is
that Trump's own history of using his economic power to his own benefit was not
as important as his status as a outsider to the current political power
structure.
//
//
//
Our scriptures today invite
a few things from us;
·
an
attentiveness to what is going on around us... particularly, the needs and
dreams that people are expressing. What
is being hoped for? What is driving the
hearts and minds of our fellow travelers on this road of life. And...
·
an
acceptance that more (than the predictable and normative) is possible. Isaiah of the Judean restoration spoke of a
promise that God was not just a creator of the past, but an active artisan in
the present. After seven decades of
exile and oppression, the prophet believed that unimaginable peace was possible
- as if a lamb could feed alongside a wolf and not fear being it's dinner.
//
//
Even though our world is
complex (and there is much that we have minimal control over), I think that
there is some truth to the axiom that we are masters of our own destiny.
I believe that we can work
and move (in our time) in ways that can be signs
to others for what is possible.
//
Gospel writers passed on
teachings of Jesus that... peacemakers and those who hunger for righteousness
and justice and the hopeful and humble have the potential to be blessings in
the world and... can become lights - illuminating a path of God's best dreams
for creation.
//
Every time we live out
Micah's words that we are to seek justice, love kindness and walk humbly and... every time we follow (what Jesus called) the
great commandments to love God with our
whole being and love others as we
long to know love for ourselves, we are giving the world a sign of what is
possible.
//
Yes, there is unrest. There is worry, terror, war, hunger, violence
in homes, streets and nations.
But, we have the ability to
ensure that these are not the only signs people see around them.
//
Even amid wars and rumours
of wars, earthquakes, famines and plagues, do not be afraid to be signs of hope
and goodness.
Do not lose heart.
We believe in God who has
created and is creating.
We can be signs of hope and
promise for a good and just future.
//
We can be a people who mend
broken hallelujahs.
//
//
Let us pray:
Creator of All Life and Matter, you
help us to rejoice even in times of worry.
Transform our old ways into new possibilities. Amen.
#278VU “In the Quiet Curve of Evening”
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